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| author | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:17:05 -0700 |
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| committer | Roger Frank <rfrank@pglaf.org> | 2025-10-15 05:17:05 -0700 |
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diff --git a/1396-h/1396-h.htm b/1396-h/1396-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..8bc06c2 --- /dev/null +++ b/1396-h/1396-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,23185 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <title> + Rienzi, by Edward Bulwer Lytton + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd7; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<div>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1396 ***</div> + + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + RIENZI, + </h1> + <h3> + The Last of the Roman Tribunes + </h3> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h4> + by + </h4> + <h2> + Edward Bulwer Lytton + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Then turn we to her latest Tribune’s name, + From her ten thousand tyrants turn to thee, + Redeemer of dark centuries of shame— + The friend of Petrarch—hope of Italy— + Rienzi, last of Romans! While the tree + Of Freedom’s wither’d trunk puts forth a leaf, + Even for thy tomb a garland let it be— + The Forum’s champion, and the People’s chief— + Her new-born Numa thou! + + Childe Harold, cant. iv. stanza 114. +</pre> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Amidst the indulgence of enthusiasm and eloquence, Petrarch, + Italy, and Europe, were astonished by a revolution, which + realized for a moment his most splendid visions.—Gibbon, + chap. 1xx. +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + <big><b>Dedication of Rienzi.</b></big> + </p> + <p> + To Alessandro Manzoni, as to the Genius of the Place, + </p> + <p> + Are Dedicated These Fruits, gathered on The Soil of Italian Fiction. + </p> + <p> + London, Dec. 1, 1835. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <p> + <big><b>Dedication,</b></big> + </p> + <p> + Prefixed to the First Collected Edition of the Author’s Works in 1840. + </p> + <p> + My Dear Mother, + </p> + <p> + In inscribing with your beloved and honoured name this Collection of my + Works, I could wish that the fruits of my manhood were worthier of the + tender and anxious pains bestowed upon my education in youth. + </p> + <p> + Left yet young, and with no ordinary accomplishments and gifts, the sole + guardian of your sons, to them you devoted the best years of your useful + and spotless life; and any success it be their fate to attain in the paths + they have severally chosen, would have its principal sweetness in the + thought that such success was the reward of one whose hand aided every + struggle, and whose heart sympathized in every care. + </p> + <p> + From your graceful and accomplished taste, I early learned that affection + for literature which has exercised so large an influence over the pursuits + of my life; and you who were my first guide, were my earliest critic. Do + you remember the summer days, which seemed to me so short, when you + repeated to me those old ballads with which Percy revived the decaying + spirit of our national muse, or the smooth couplets of Pope, or those + gentle and polished verses with the composition of which you had beguiled + your own earlier leisure? It was those easy lessons, far more than the + harsher rudiments learned subsequently in schools, that taught me to + admire and to imitate; and in them I recognise the germ of the flowers, + however perishable they be, that I now bind up and lay upon a shrine + hallowed by a thousand memories of unspeakable affection. Happy, while I + borrowed from your taste, could I have found it not more difficult to + imitate your virtues—your spirit of active and extended benevolence, + your cheerful piety, your considerate justice, your kindly charity—and + all the qualities that brighten a nature more free from the thought of + self, than any it has been my lot to meet with. Never more than at this + moment did I wish that my writings were possessed of a merit which might + outlive my time, so that at least these lines might remain a record of the + excellence of the Mother, and the gratitude of the Son. + </p> + <p> + E.L.B. London: January 6, 1840. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_PREF"> <b>Preface</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <p class="toc"> + <a href="#link2H_4_0003"> <b>RIENZI, The Last of the Tribunes.</b> </a> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0004"> <b>BOOK I.</b> </a> <b>THE + TIME, THE PLACE, AND THE MEN.</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0001"> + Chapter 1.I </a> The Brothers. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0002"> Chapter 1.II </a> An Historical Survey—not + to Be Passed Over, Except by <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> Chapter + 1.III </a> The Brawl. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0004"> + Chapter 1.IV </a> An Adventure. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0005"> Chapter 1.V </a> The Description of a + Conspirator, and the Dawn of the <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> + Chapter 1.VI </a> Irene in the Palace of Adrian di Castello. + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> Chapter 1.VII </a> Upon + Love and Lovers. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0008"> Chapter 1.VIII </a> + The Enthusiastic Man Judged by the Discreet Man. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0009"> Chapter 1.IX </a> “When the People Saw + this Picture, Every One Marvelled.” <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> + Chapter 1.X </a> A Rough Spirit Raised, Which May Hereafter + Rend the Wizard. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> Chapter 1.XI </a> + Nina di Raselli. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0012"> Chapter 1.XII </a> + The Strange Adventures that Befel Walter de Montreal. <br /><br /><br /> <a + href="#link2H_4_0017"> <b>BOOK II</b> </a> <br /> <b>THE + REVOLUTION</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0013"> Chapter 2.I </a> + The Knight of Provence, and his Proposal. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0014"> Chapter 2.II </a> The Interview, and + the Doubt. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> Chapter 2.III </a> + The Situation of a Popular Patrician in Times of Popular <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0016"> Chapter 2.IV </a> The Ambitious + Citizen, and the Ambitious Soldier. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0017"> + Chapter 2.V </a> The Procession of the Barons.—The + Beginning of the End. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> Chapter 2.VI + </a> The Conspirator Becomes the Magistrate. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0019"> Chapter 2.VII </a> Looking after the + Halter when the Mare is Stolen. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0020"> + Chapter 2.VIII </a> The Attack—the Retreat—the + Election—and the Adhesion. <br /><br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0026"> + <b>BOOK III</b> </a> <br /> <b>THE FREEDOM WITHOUT LAW.</b> + <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0021"> Chapter 3.I </a> The + Return of Walter de Montreal to his Fortress. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0022"> Chapter 3.II </a> The Life of Love and + War—the Messenger of Peace—the <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0023"> Chapter 3.III </a> The Conversation + between the Roman and the <br /><br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0030"> <b>BOOK + IV</b> </a> <br /> THE TRIUMPH AND THE POMP. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0024"> Chapter 4.I </a> The Boy Angelo—the + Dream of Nina Fulfilled. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0025"> Chapter + 4.II </a> The Blessing of A Councillor Whose Interests and + Heart Are <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0026"> Chapter 4.III </a> + The Actor Unmasked. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0027"> Chapter 4.IV + </a> The Enemy’s Camp. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0028"> + Chapter 4.V </a> The Night and its Incidents. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0029"> Chapter 4.VI </a> The Celebrated + Citation. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0030"> Chapter 4.VII </a> + The Festival. <br /><br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0038"> <b>BOOK V</b> + </a> <br /> <b>THE CRISIS.</b> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0031"> Chapter 5.I </a> The Judgment of the + Tribune. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0032"> Chapter 5.II </a> + The Flight. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0033"> Chapter 5.III </a> + The Battle. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0034"> Chapter 5.IV </a> + The Hollowness of the Base. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0035"> Chapter + 5.V </a> The Rottenness of the Edifice. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0036"> Chapter 5.VI </a> The Fall of the + Temple. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0037"> Chapter 5.VII </a> + The Successors of an Unsuccessful Revolution—Who is to <br /><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0046"> <b>BOOK VI</b> </a> <br /> <b>THE + PLAGUE.</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0038"> Chapter 6.1 </a> + The Retreat of the Lover. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0039"> Chapter + 6.II </a> The Seeker. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0040"> + Chapter 6.III </a> The Flowers Amidst the Tombs. <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0041"> Chapter 6.IV </a> We Obtain What We + Seek, and Know it Not. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0042"> Chapter 6.V + </a> The Error. <br /><br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0052"> <b>BOOK + VII</b> </a> <br /> <b>THE PRISON.</b> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0043"> Chapter 7.I </a> Avignon.—The + Two Pages.—The Stranger Beauty. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0044"> + Chapter 7.II </a> The Character of a Warrior Priest—an + Interview—the <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0045"> Chapter 7.III + </a> Holy Men.—Sagacious Deliberations.—Just + Resolves.—And <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0046"> Chapter 7.IV + </a> The Lady and the Page. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0047"> Chapter 7.V </a> The Inmate of the + Tower. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0048"> Chapter 7.VI </a> + The Scent Does Not Lie.—The Priest and the Soldier. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0049"> Chapter 7.VII </a> Vaucluse and its + Genius Loci.—Old Acquaintance Renewed. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0050"> Chapter 7.VIII </a> The Crowd.—The + Trial.—The Verdict.—The Soldier and <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0051"> Chapter 7.IX </a> Albornoz and Nina. + <br /><br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0062"> <b>BOOK VIII</b> </a> + <br /> <b>THE GRAND COMPANY.</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0052"> + Chapter 8.I </a> The Encampment. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0053"> Chapter 8.II </a> Adrian Once More the + Guest of Montreal. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0054"> Chapter 8.III + </a> Faithful and Ill-fated Love.—The Aspirations + Survive the <br /><br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0066"> <b>BOOK IX</b> + </a> <br /> <b>THE RETURN.</b> <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0055"> Chapter 9.I </a> The Triumphal + Entrance. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0056"> Chapter 9.II </a> + The Masquerade. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0057"> Chapter 9.III </a> + Adrian’s Adventures at Palestrina. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0058"> + Chapter 9.IV </a> The Position of the Senator.—The + Work of Years.—The <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0059"> Chapter 9.V + </a> The Biter Bit. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0060"> + Chapter 9.VI </a> The Events Gather to the End. <br /><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2H_4_0073"> <b>BOOK X</b> </a> <br /> <b>THE + LION Of BASALT.</b> <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0061"> Chapter 10.I + </a> The Conjunction of Hostile Planets in the House of + Death. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0062"> Chapter 10.II </a> + Montreal at Rome.—His Reception of Angelo Villani. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0063"> Chapter 10.III </a> Montreal’s + Banquet. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0064"> Chapter 10.IV </a> + The Sentence of Walter de Montreal. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0065"> + Chapter 10.V </a> The Discovery. <br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0066"> Chapter 10.VI </a> The Suspense. <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0067"> Chapter 10.VII </a> The Tax. <br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0068"> Chapter 10.VIII </a> The Threshold + of the Event. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0069"> Chapter The Last </a> + The Close of the Chase. <br /><br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_APPE"> Appendix + I </a> <br /> Some Remarks on the Life and Character of + Rienzi. <br /><br /> <a href="#link2H_APPE2"> Appendix II </a> + A Word Upon the Work by Pere du Cerceau and Pere Brumoy, + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_PREF" id="link2H_PREF"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + Preface + </h2> + <h3> + to + </h3> + <h3> + The First Edition of Rienzi. + </h3> + <p> + I began this tale two years ago at Rome. On removing to Naples, I threw it + aside for “The Last Days of Pompeii,” which required more than “Rienzi” + the advantage of residence within reach of the scenes described. The fate + of the Roman Tribune continued, however, to haunt and impress me, and, + some time after “Pompeii” was published, I renewed my earlier undertaking. + I regarded the completion of these volumes, indeed, as a kind of duty;—for + having had occasion to read the original authorities from which modern + historians have drawn their accounts of the life of Rienzi, I was led to + believe that a very remarkable man had been superficially judged, and a + very important period crudely examined. (See Appendix, Nos. I and II.) And + this belief was sufficiently strong to induce me at first to meditate a + more serious work upon the life and times of Rienzi. (I have adopted the + termination of Rienzi instead of Rienzo, as being more familiar to the + general reader.—But the latter is perhaps the more accurate reading, + since the name was a popular corruption from Lorenzo.) Various reasons + concurred against this project—and I renounced the biography to + commence the fiction. I have still, however, adhered, with a greater + fidelity than is customary in Romance, to all the leading events of the + public life of the Roman Tribune; and the Reader will perhaps find in + these pages a more full and detailed account of the rise and fall of + Rienzi, than in any English work of which I am aware. I have, it is true, + taken a view of his character different in some respects from that of + Gibbon or Sismondi. But it is a view, in all its main features, which I + believe (and think I could prove) myself to be warranted in taking, not + less by the facts of History than the laws of Fiction. In the meanwhile, + as I have given the facts from which I have drawn my interpretation of the + principal agent, the reader has sufficient data for his own judgment. In + the picture of the Roman Populace, as in that of the Roman Nobles of the + fourteenth century, I follow literally the descriptions left to us;—they + are not flattering, but they are faithful, likenesses. + </p> + <p> + Preserving generally the real chronology of Rienzi’s life, the plot of + this work extends over a space of some years, and embraces the variety of + characters necessary to a true delineation of events. The story, + therefore, cannot have precisely that order of interest found in fictions + strictly and genuinely dramatic, in which (to my judgment at least) the + time ought to be as limited as possible, and the characters as few;—no + new character of importance to the catastrophe being admissible towards + the end of the work. If I may use the word Epic in its most modest and + unassuming acceptation, this Fiction, in short, though indulging in + dramatic situations, belongs, as a whole, rather to the Epic than the + Dramatic school. + </p> + <p> + I cannot conclude without rendering the tribute of my praise and homage to + the versatile and gifted Author of the beautiful Tragedy of Rienzi. + Considering that our hero be the same—considering that we had the + same materials from which to choose our several stories—I trust I + shall be found to have little, if at all, trespassed upon ground + previously occupied. With the single exception of a love-intrigue between + a relative of Rienzi and one of the antagonist party, which makes the plot + of Miss Mitford’s Tragedy, and is little more than an episode in my + Romance, having slight effect on the conduct and none on the fate of the + hero, I am not aware of any resemblance between the two works; and even + this coincidence I could easily have removed, had I deemed it the least + advisable:—but it would be almost discreditable if I had nothing + that resembled a performance possessing so much it were an honour to + imitate. + </p> + <p> + In fact, the prodigal materials of the story—the rich and exuberant + complexities of Rienzi’s character—joined to the advantage possessed + by the Novelist of embracing all that the Dramatist must reject (Thus the + slender space permitted to the Dramatist does not allow Miss Mitford to be + very faithful to facts; to distinguish between Rienzi’s earlier and his + later period of power; or to detail the true, but somewhat intricate + causes of his rise, his splendour, and his fall.)—are sufficient to + prevent Dramatist and Novelist from interfering with each other. + </p> + <p> + London, December 1, 1835. + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Preface to the Present Edition, 1848. + </h2> + <p> + From the time of its first appearance, “Rienzi” has had the good fortune + to rank high amongst my most popular works—though its interest is + rather drawn from a faithful narration of historical facts, than from the + inventions of fancy. And the success of this experiment confirms me in my + belief, that the true mode of employing history in the service of romance, + is to study diligently the materials as history; conform to such views of + the facts as the Author would adopt, if he related them in the dry + character of historian; and obtain that warmer interest which fiction + bestows, by tracing the causes of the facts in the characters and emotions + of the personages of the time. The events of his work are thus already + shaped to his hand—the characters already created—what remains + for him, is the inner, not outer, history of man—the chronicle of + the human heart; and it is by this that he introduces a new harmony + between character and event, and adds the completer solution of what is + actual and true, by those speculations of what is natural and probable, + which are out of the province of history, but belong especially to the + philosophy of romance. And—if it be permitted the tale-teller to + come reverently for instruction in his art to the mightiest teacher of + all, who, whether in the page or on the scene, would give to airy fancies + the breath and the form of life,—such, we may observe, is the lesson + the humblest craftsman in historical romance may glean from the Historical + Plays of Shakespeare. Necessarily, Shakespeare consulted history according + to the imperfect lights, and from the popular authorities, of his age; and + I do not say, therefore, that as an historian we can rely upon Shakespeare + as correct. But to that in which he believed he rigidly adhered; nor did + he seek, as lesser artists (such as Victor Hugo and his disciples) seek + now, to turn perforce the Historical into the Poetical, but leaving + history as he found it, to call forth from its arid prose the flower of + the latent poem. Nay, even in the more imaginative plays which he has + founded upon novels and legends popular in his time, it is curious and + instructive to see how little he has altered the original ground-work—taking + for granted the main materials of the story, and reserving all his + matchless resources of wisdom and invention, to illustrate from mental + analysis, the creations whose outline he was content to borrow. He + receives, as a literal fact not to be altered, the somewhat incredible + assertion of the novelist, that the pure and delicate and highborn + Venetian loves the swarthy Moor—and that Romeo fresh from his “woes + for Rosaline,” becomes suddenly enamoured of Juliet: He found the + Improbable, and employed his art to make it truthful. + </p> + <p> + That “Rienzi” should have attracted peculiar attention in Italy, is of + course to be attributed to the choice of the subject rather than to the + skill of the Author. It has been translated into the Italian language by + eminent writers; and the authorities for the new view of Rienzi’s times + and character which the Author deemed himself warranted to take, have been + compared with his text by careful critics and illustrious scholars, in + those states in which the work has been permitted to circulate. (In the + Papal States, I believe, it was neither, prudently nor effectually, + proscribed.) I may say, I trust without unworthy pride, that the result + has confirmed the accuracy of delineations which English readers relying + only on the brilliant but disparaging account in Gibbon deemed too + favourable; and has tended to restore the great Tribune to his long + forgotten claims to the love and reverence of the Italian land. Nor, if I + may trust to the assurances that have reached me from many now engaged in + the aim of political regeneration, has the effect of that revival of the + honours due to a national hero, leading to the ennobling study of great + examples, been wholly without its influence upon the rising generation of + Italian youth, and thereby upon those stirring events which have recently + drawn the eyes of Europe to the men and the lands beyond the Alps. + </p> + <p> + In preparing for the Press this edition of a work illustrative of the + exertions of a Roman, in advance of his time, for the political freedom of + his country, and of those struggles between contending principles, of + which Italy was the most stirring field in the Middle Ages, it is not out + of place or season to add a few sober words, whether as a student of the + Italian Past, or as an observer, with some experience of the social + elements of Italy as it now exists, upon the state of affairs in that + country. + </p> + <p> + It is nothing new to see the Papal Church in the capacity of a popular + reformer, and in contra-position to the despotic potentates of the several + states, as well as to the German Emperor, who nominally inherits the + sceptre of the Caesars. Such was its common character under its more + illustrious Pontiffs; and the old Republics of Italy grew up under the + shadow of the Papal throne, harbouring ever two factions—the one for + the Emperor, the one for the Pope—the latter the more naturally + allied to Italian independence. On the modern stage, we almost see the + repetition of many an ancient drama. But the past should teach us to doubt + the continuous and stedfast progress of any single line of policy under a + principality so constituted as that of the Papal Church—a + principality in which no race can be perpetuated, in which no objects can + be permanent; in which the successor is chosen by a select ecclesiastical + synod, under a variety of foreign as well as of national influences; in + which the chief usually ascends the throne at an age that ill adapts his + mind to the idea of human progress, and the active direction of mundane + affairs;—a principality in which the peculiar sanctity that wraps + the person of the Sovereign exonerates him from the healthful liabilities + of a power purely temporal, and directly accountable to Man. A reforming + Pope is a lucky accident, and dull indeed must be the brain which believes + in the possibility of a long succession of reforming Popes, or which can + regard as other than precarious and unstable the discordant combination of + a constitutional government with an infallible head. + </p> + <p> + It is as true as it is trite that political freedom is not the growth of a + day—it is not a flower without a stalk, and it must gradually + develop itself from amidst the unfolding leaves of kindred institutions. + </p> + <p> + In one respect, the Austrian domination, fairly considered, has been + beneficial to the States over which it has been directly exercised, and + may be even said to have unconsciously schooled them to the capacity for + freedom. In those States the personal rights which depend on impartial and + incorrupt administration of the law, are infinitely more secure than in + most of the Courts of Italy. Bribery, which shamefully predominates in the + judicature of certain Principalities, is as unknown in the juridical + courts of Austrian Italy as in England. The Emperor himself is often + involved in legal disputes with a subject, and justice is as free and as + firm for the humblest suitor, as if his antagonist were his equal. + Austria, indeed, but holds together the motley and inharmonious members of + its vast domain on either side the Alps, by a general character of + paternal mildness and forbearance in all that great circle of good + government which lies without the one principle of constitutional liberty. + It asks but of its subjects to submit to be well governed—without + agitating the question “how and by what means that government is carried + on.” For every man, except the politician, the innovator, Austria is no + harsh stepmother. But it is obviously clear that the better in other + respects the administration of a state it does but foster the more the + desire for that political security, which is only found in constitutional + freedom: the reverence paid to personal rights, but begets the passion for + political; and under a mild despotism are already half matured the germs + of a popular constitution. But it is still a grave question whether Italy + is ripe for self-government—and whether, were it possible that the + Austrian domination could be shaken off—the very passions so + excited, the very bloodshed so poured forth, would not ultimately place + the larger portion of Italy under auspices less favourable to the sure + growth of freedom, than those which silently brighten under the sway of + the German Caesar. + </p> + <p> + The two kingdoms, at the opposite extremes of Italy, to which circumstance + and nature seem to assign the main ascendancy, are Naples and Sardinia. + Looking to the former, it is impossible to discover on the face of the + earth a country more adapted for commercial prosperity. Nature formed it + as the garden of Europe, and the mart of the Mediterranean. Its soil and + climate could unite the products of the East with those of the Western + hemisphere. The rich island of Sicily should be the great corn granary of + the modern nations as it was of the ancient; the figs, the olives, the + oranges, of both the Sicilies, under skilful cultivation, should equal the + produce of Spain and the Orient, and the harbours of the kingdom (the keys + to three-quarters of the globe) should be crowded with the sails and busy + with the life of commerce. But, in the character of its population, Naples + has been invariably in the rear of Italian progress; it caught but partial + inspiration from the free Republics, or even the wise Tyrannies, of the + Middle Ages; the theatre of frequent revolutions without fruit; and all + rational enthusiasm created by that insurrection, which has lately + bestowed on Naples the boon of a representative system, cannot but be + tempered by the conviction that of all the States in Italy, this is the + one which least warrants the belief of permanence to political freedom, or + of capacity to retain with vigour what may be seized by passion. (If the + Electoral Chamber in the new Neapolitan Constitution, give a fair share of + members to the Island of Sicily, it will be rich in the inevitable + elements of discord, and nothing save a wisdom and moderation, which + cannot soberly be anticipated, can prevent the ultimate separation of the + island from the dominion of Naples. Nature has set the ocean between the + two countries—but differences in character, and degree and quality + of civilisation—national jealousies, historical memories, have + trebled the space of the seas that roll between them.—More easy to + unite under one free Parliament, Spain with Flanders; or re-annex to + England its old domains of Aquitaine and Normandy—than to unite in + one Council Chamber truly popular, the passions, interests, and prejudices + of Sicily and Naples.—Time will show.) + </p> + <p> + Far otherwise is it, with Sardinia. Many years since, the writer of these + pages ventured to predict that the time must come when Sardinia would lead + the van of Italian civilisation, and take proud place amongst the greater + nations of Europe. In the great portion of this population there is + visible the new blood of a young race; it is not, as with other Italian + States, a worn-out stock; you do not see there a people fallen, proud of + the past, and lazy amidst ruins, but a people rising, practical, + industrious, active; there, in a word, is an eager youth to be formed to + mature development, not a decrepit age to be restored to bloom and muscle. + Progress is the great characteristic of the Sardinian state. Leave it for + five years; visit it again, and you behold improvement. When you enter the + kingdom and find, by the very skirts of its admirable roads, a raised + footpath for the passengers and travellers from town to town, you become + suddenly aware that you are in a land where close attention to the humbler + classes is within the duties of a government. As you pass on from the more + purely Italian part of the population,—from the Genoese country into + that of Piedmont,—the difference between a new people and an old, on + which I have dwelt, becomes visible in the improved cultivation of the + soil, the better habitations of the labourer, the neater aspect of the + towns, the greater activity in the thoroughfares. To the extraordinary + virtues of the King, as King, justice is scarcely done, whether in England + or abroad. Certainly, despite his recent concessions, Charles Albert is + not and cannot be at heart, much of a constitutional reformer; and his + strong religious tendencies, which, perhaps unjustly, have procured him in + philosophical quarters the character of a bigot, may link him more than + his political, with the cause of the Father of his Church. But he is nobly + and preeminently national, careful of the prosperity and jealous of the + honour of his own state, while conscientiously desirous of the + independence of Italy. His attention to business, is indefatigable. + Nothing escapes his vigilance. Over all departments of the kingdom is the + eye of a man ever anxious to improve. Already the silk manufactures of + Sardinia almost rival those of Lyons: in their own departments the + tradesmen of Turin exhibit an artistic elegance and elaborate finish, + scarcely exceeded in the wares of London and Paris. The King’s internal + regulations are admirable; his laws, administered with the most impartial + justice—his forts and defences are in that order, without which, at + least on the Continent, no land is safe—his army is the most perfect + in Italy. His wise genius extends itself to the elegant as to the useful + arts—an encouragement that shames England, and even France, is + bestowed upon the School for Painters, which has become one of the + ornaments of his illustrious reign. The character of the main part of the + population, and the geographical position of his country, assist the + monarch and must force on himself, or his successors, in the career of + improvement so signally begun. In the character of the people, the vigour + of the Northman ennobles the ardour and fancy of the West. In the position + of the country, the public mind is brought into constant communication + with the new ideas in the free lands of Europe. Civilisation sets in + direct currents towards the streets and marts of Turin. Whatever the + result of the present crisis in Italy, no power and no chance which + statesmen can predict, can preclude Sardinia from ultimately heading all + that is best in Italy. The King may improve his present position, or + peculiar prejudices, inseparable perhaps from the heritage of absolute + monarchy, and which the raw and rude councils of an Electoral Chamber, + newly called into life, must often irritate and alarm, may check his own + progress towards the master throne of the Ausonian land. But the people + themselves, sooner or later, will do the work of the King. And in now + looking round Italy for a race worthy of Rienzi, and able to accomplish + his proud dreams, I see but one for which the time is ripe or ripening, + and I place the hopes of Italy in the men of Piedmont and Sardinia. + </p> + <p> + London, February 14, 1848. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0003" id="link2H_4_0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + RIENZI, The Last of the Tribunes. + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0004" id="link2H_4_0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK I. — THE TIME, THE PLACE, AND THE MEN. + </h2> + <p> + “<i>Fu da sua gioventudine nutricato di latte di eloquenza; buono + grammatico, megliore rettorico, autorista buono...Oh, come spesso diceva, + ‘Dove sono questi buoni Romani? Dov’e loro somma giustizia? Poterommi + trovare in tempo che questi fioriscano?’ Era bell ‘omo...Accadde che uno + suo frate fu ucciso, e non ne fu fatta vendetta di sua morte: non lo poteo + aiutare; pensa lungo mano vendicare ‘l sangue di suo frate; pensa lunga + mano dirizzare la cittate di Roma male guidata</i>.”—“Vita di Cola + di Rienzi” Ed. 1828. Forli. + </p> + <p> + “From his youth he was nourished with the milk of eloquence; a good + grammarian, a better rhetorician, well versed in the writings of + authors...Oh, how often would he say, ‘Where are those good Romans? Where + is their supreme justice? Shall I ever behold such times as those in which + they flourished?’ He was a handsome man...It happened that a brother of + his was slain, and no retribution was made for his death: he could not + help him; long did he ponder how to avenge his brother’s blood; long did + he ponder how to direct the ill guided state of Rome.”—“Life of Cola + di Rienzi.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.I. The Brothers. + </h2> + <p> + The celebrated name which forms the title to this work will sufficiently + apprise the reader that it is in the earlier half of the fourteenth + century that my story opens. + </p> + <p> + It was on a summer evening that two youths might be seen walking beside + the banks of the Tiber, not far from that part of its winding course which + sweeps by the base of Mount Aventine. The path they had selected was + remote and tranquil. It was only at a distance that were seen the + scattered and squalid houses that bordered the river, from amidst which + rose, dark and frequent, the high roof and enormous towers which marked + the fortified mansion of some Roman baron. On one side of the river, + behind the cottages of the fishermen, soared Mount Janiculum, dark with + massive foliage, from which gleamed at frequent intervals, the grey walls + of many a castellated palace, and the spires and columns of a hundred + churches; on the other side, the deserted Aventine rose abrupt and steep, + covered with thick brushwood; while, on the height, from concealed but + numerous convents, rolled, not unmusically, along the quiet landscape and + the rippling waves, the sound of the holy bell. + </p> + <p> + Of the young men introduced in this scene, the elder, who might have + somewhat passed his twentieth year, was of a tall and even commanding + stature; and there was that in his presence remarkable and almost noble, + despite the homeliness of his garb, which consisted of the long, loose + gown and the plain tunic, both of dark-grey serge, which distinguished, at + that time, the dress of the humbler scholars who frequented the + monasteries for such rude knowledge as then yielded a scanty return for + intense toil. His countenance was handsome, and would have been rather gay + than thoughtful in its expression, but for that vague and abstracted + dreaminess of eye which so usually denotes a propensity to revery and + contemplation, and betrays that the past or the future is more congenial + to the mind than the enjoyment and action of the present hour. + </p> + <p> + The younger, who was yet a boy, had nothing striking in his appearance or + countenance, unless an expression of great sweetness and gentleness could + be so called; and there was something almost feminine in the tender + deference with which he appeared to listen to his companion. His dress was + that usually worn by the humbler classes, though somewhat neater, perhaps, + and newer; and the fond vanity of a mother might be detected in the care + with which the long and silky ringlets had been smoothed and parted as + they escaped from his cap and flowed midway down his shoulders. + </p> + <p> + As they thus sauntered on, beside the whispering reeds of the river, each + with his arm round the form of his comrade, there was a grace in the + bearing, in the youth, and in the evident affection of the brothers—for + such their connexion—which elevated the lowliness of their apparent + condition. + </p> + <p> + “Dear brother,” said the elder, “I cannot express to thee how I enjoy + these evening hours. To you alone I feel as if I were not a mere visionary + and idler when I talk of the uncertain future, and build up my palaces of + the air. Our parents listen to me as if I were uttering fine things out of + a book; and my dear mother, Heaven bless her! wipes her eyes, and says, + ‘Hark, what a scholar he is!’ As for the monks, if I ever dare look from + my Livy, and cry ‘Thus should Rome be again!’ they stare, and gape, and + frown, as though I had broached an heresy. But you, sweet brother, though + you share not my studies, sympathize so kindly with all their results—you + seem so to approve my wild schemes, and to encourage my ambitious hopes—that + sometimes I forget our birth, our fortunes, and think and dare as if no + blood save that of the Teuton Emperor flowed through our veins.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks, dear Cola,” said the younger brother, “that Nature played us an + unfair trick—to you she transmitted the royal soul, derived from our + father’s parentage; and to me only the quiet and lowly spirit of my + mother’s humble lineage.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” answered Cola, quickly, “you would then have the brighter share,—for + I should have but the Barbarian origin, and you the Roman. Time was, when + to be a simple Roman was to be nobler than a northern king.—Well, + well, we may live to see great changes!” + </p> + <p> + “I shall live to see thee a great man, and that will content me,” said the + younger, smiling affectionately; “a great scholar all confess you to be + already: our mother predicts your fortunes every time she hears of your + welcome visits to the Colonna.” + </p> + <p> + “The Colonna!” said Cola, with a bitter smile; “the Colonna—the + pedants!—They affect, dull souls, the knowledge of the past, play + the patron, and misquote Latin over their cups! They are pleased to + welcome me at their board, because the Roman doctors call me learned, and + because Nature gave me a wild wit, which to them is pleasanter than the + stale jests of a hired buffoon. Yes, they would advance my fortunes—but + how? by some place in the public offices, which would fill a dishonoured + coffer, by wringing, yet more sternly, the hard-earned coins from our + famishing citizens! If there be a vile thing in the world, it is a + plebeian, advanced by patricians, not for the purpose of righting his own + order, but for playing the pander to the worst interests of theirs. He who + is of the people but makes himself a traitor to his birth, if he furnishes + the excuse for these tyrant hypocrites to lift up their hands and cry—‘See + what liberty exists in Rome, when we, the patricians, thus elevate a + plebeian!’ Did they ever elevate a plebeian if he sympathized with + plebeians? No, brother; should I be lifted above our condition, I will be + raised by the arms of my countrymen, and not upon their necks.” + </p> + <p> + “All I hope, is, Cola, that you will not, in your zeal for your + fellow-citizens, forget how dear you are to us. No greatness could ever + reconcile me to the thought that it brought you danger.” + </p> + <p> + “And I could laugh at all danger, if it led to greatness. But greatness—greatness! + Vain dream! Let us keep it for our night sleep. Enough of my plans; now, + dearest brother, of yours.” + </p> + <p> + And, with the sanguine and cheerful elasticity which belonged to him, the + young Cola, dismissing all wilder thoughts, bent his mind to listen, and + to enter into, the humbler projects of his brother. The new boat and the + holiday dress, and the cot removed to a quarter more secure from the + oppression of the barons, and such distant pictures of love as a dark eye + and a merry lip conjure up to the vague sentiments of a boy;—to + schemes and aspirations of which such objects made the limit, did the + scholar listen, with a relaxed brow and a tender smile; and often, in + later life, did that conversation occur to him, when he shrank from asking + his own heart which ambition was the wiser. + </p> + <p> + “And then,” continued the younger brother, “by degrees I might save enough + to purchase such a vessel as that which we now see, laden, doubtless, with + corn and merchandise, bringing—oh, such a good return—that I + could fill your room with books, and never hear you complain that you were + not rich enough to purchase some crumbling old monkish manuscript. Ah, + that would make me so happy!” Cola smiled as he pressed his brother closer + to his breast. + </p> + <p> + “Dear boy,” said he, “may it rather be mine to provide for your wishes! + Yet methinks the masters of yon vessel have no enviable possession, see + how anxiously the men look round, and behind, and before: peaceful traders + though they be, they fear, it seems, even in this city (once the emporium + of the civilised world), some pirate in pursuit; and ere the voyage be + over, they may find that pirate in a Roman noble. Alas, to what are we + reduced!” + </p> + <p> + The vessel thus referred to was speeding rapidly down the river, and some + three or four armed men on deck were indeed intently surveying the quiet + banks on either side, as if anticipating a foe. The bark soon, however, + glided out of sight, and the brothers fell back upon those themes which + require only the future for a text to become attractive to the young. + </p> + <p> + At length, as the evening darkened, they remembered that it was past the + usual hour in which they returned home, and they began to retrace their + steps. + </p> + <p> + “Stay,” said Cola, abruptly, “how our talk has beguiled me! Father Uberto + promised me a rare manuscript, which the good friar confesses hath puzzled + the whole convent. I was to seek his cell for it this evening. Tarry here + a few minutes, it is but half-way up the Aventine. I shall soon return.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I not accompany you?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” returned Cola, with considerate kindness, “you have borne toil all + the day, and must be wearied; my labours of the body, at least, have been + light enough. You are delicate, too, and seem fatigued already; the rest + will refresh you. I shall not be long.” + </p> + <p> + The boy acquiesced, though he rather wished to accompany his brother; but + he was of a meek and yielding temper, and seldom resisted the lightest + command of those he loved. He sat him down on a little bank by the + river-side, and the firm step and towering form of his brother were soon + hid from his gaze by the thick and melancholy foliage. + </p> + <p> + At first he sat very quietly, enjoying the cool air, and thinking over all + the stories of ancient Rome that his brother had told him in their walk. + At length he recollected that his little sister, Irene, had begged him to + bring her home some flowers; and, gathering such as he could find at hand + (and many a flower grew, wild and clustering, over that desolate spot), he + again seated himself, and began weaving them into one of those garlands + for which the southern peasantry still retain their ancient affection, and + something of their classic skill. + </p> + <p> + While the boy was thus engaged, the tramp of horses and the loud shouting + of men were heard at a distance. They came near, and nearer. + </p> + <p> + “Some baron’s procession, perhaps, returning from a feast,” thought the + boy. “It will be a pretty sight—their white plumes and scarlet + mantles! I love to see such sights, but I will just move out of their + way.” + </p> + <p> + So, still mechanically platting his garland, but with eyes turned towards + the quarter of the expected procession, the young Roman moved yet nearer + towards the river. + </p> + <p> + Presently the train came in view,—a gallant company, in truth; + horsemen in front, riding two abreast, where the path permitted, their + steeds caparisoned superbly, their plumes waving gaily, and the gleam of + their corselets glittering through the shades of the dusky twilight. A + large and miscellaneous crowd, all armed, some with pikes and mail, others + with less warlike or worse fashioned weapons, followed the cavaliers; and + high above plume and pike floated the blood-red banner of the Orsini, with + the motto and device (in which was ostentatiously displayed the Guelfic + badge of the keys of St. Peter) wrought in burnished gold. A momentary + fear crossed the boy’s mind, for at that time, and in that city, a + nobleman begirt with his swordsmen was more dreaded than a wild beast by + the plebeians; but it was already too late to fly—the train were + upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Ho, boy!” cried the leader of the horsemen, Martino di Porto, one of the + great House of the Orsini; “hast thou seen a boat pass up the river?—But + thou must have seen it—how long since?” + </p> + <p> + “I saw a large boat about half an hour ago,” answered the boy, terrified + by the rough voice and imperious bearing of the cavalier. + </p> + <p> + “Sailing right a-head, with a green flag at the stern?” + </p> + <p> + “The same, noble sir.” + </p> + <p> + “On, then! we will stop her course ere the moon rise,” said the baron. + “On!—let the boy go with us, lest he prove traitor, and alarm the + Colonna.” + </p> + <p> + “An Orsini, an Orsini,” shouted the multitude; “on, on!” and, despite the + prayers and remonstrances of the boy, he was placed in the thickest of the + crowd, and borne, or rather dragged along with the rest—frightened, + breathless, almost weeping, with his poor little garland still hanging on + his arm, while a sling was thrust into his unwilling hand. Still he felt, + through all his alarm, a kind of childish curiosity to see the result of + the pursuit. + </p> + <p> + By the loud and eager conversation of those about him, he learned that the + vessel he had seen contained a supply of corn destined to a fortress up + the river held by the Colonna, then at deadly feud with the Orsini; and it + was the object of the expedition in which the boy had been thus lucklessly + entrained to intercept the provision, and divert it to the garrison of + Martino di Porto. This news somewhat increased his consternation, for the + boy belonged to a family that claimed the patronage of the Colonna. + </p> + <p> + Anxiously and tearfully he looked with every moment up the steep ascent of + the Aventine; but his guardian, his protector, still delayed his + appearance. + </p> + <p> + They had now proceeded some way, when a winding in the road brought + suddenly before them the object of their pursuit, as, seen by the light of + the earliest stars, it scudded rapidly down the stream. + </p> + <p> + “Now, the Saints be blest!” quoth the chief; “she is ours!” + </p> + <p> + “Hold!” said a captain (a German) riding next to Martino, in a half + whisper; “I hear sounds which I like not, by yonder trees—hark! The + neigh of a horse!—by my faith, too, there is the gleam of a + corselet.” + </p> + <p> + “Push on, my masters,” cried Martino; “the heron shall not balk the eagle—push + on!” + </p> + <p> + With renewed shouts, those on foot pushed forward, till, as they had + nearly gained the copse referred to by the German, a small compact body of + horsemen, armed cap-a-pie, dashed from amidst the trees, and, with spears + in their rests, charged into the ranks of the pursuers. + </p> + <p> + “A Colonna! a Colonna!” “An Orsini! an Orsini!” were shouts loudly and + fiercely interchanged. Martino di Porto, a man of great bulk and ferocity, + and his cavaliers, who were chiefly German Mercenaries, met the encounter + unshaken. “Beware the bear’s hug,” cried the Orsini, as down went his + antagonist, rider and steed, before his lance. + </p> + <p> + The contest was short and fierce; the complete armour of the horsemen + protected them on either side from wounds,—not so unscathed fared + the half-armed foot-followers of the Orsini, as they pressed, each pushed + on by the other, against the Colonna. After a shower of stones and darts, + which fell but as hailstones against the thick mail of the horsemen, they + closed in, and, by their number, obstructed the movements of the steeds, + while the spear, sword, and battle-axe of their opponents made ruthless + havoc amongst their undisciplined ranks. And Martino, who cared little how + many of his mere mob were butchered, seeing that his foes were for the + moment embarrassed by the wild rush and gathering circle of his foot train + (for the place of conflict, though wider than the previous road, was + confined and narrow), made a sign to some of his horsemen, and was about + to ride forward towards the boat, now nearly out of sight, when a bugle at + some distance was answered by one of his enemy at hand; and the shout of + “Colonna to the rescue!” was echoed afar off. A few moments brought in + view a numerous train of horse at full speed, with the banners of the + Colonna waving gallantly in the front. + </p> + <p> + “A plague on the wizards! who would have imagined they had divined us so + craftily!” muttered Martino; “we must not abide these odds;” and the hand + he had first raised for advance, now gave the signal of retreat. + </p> + <p> + Serried breast to breast and in complete order, the horsemen of Martino + turned to fly; the foot rabble who had come for spoil remained but for + slaughter. They endeavoured to imitate their leaders; but how could they + all elude the rushing chargers and sharp lances of their antagonists, + whose blood was heated by the affray, and who regarded the lives at their + mercy as a boy regards the wasp’s nest he destroys. The crowd dispersing + in all directions,—some, indeed, escaped up the hills, where the + footing was impracticable to the horses; some plunged into the river and + swam across to the opposite bank—those less cool or experienced, who + fled right onwards, served, by clogging the way of their enemy, to + facilitate the flight of their leaders, but fell themselves, corpse upon + corpse, butchered in the unrelenting and unresisted pursuit. + </p> + <p> + “No quarter to the ruffians—every Orsini slain is a robber the less—strike + for God, the Emperor, and the Colonna!” such were the shouts which rung + the knell of the dismayed and falling fugitives. Among those who fled + onward, in the very path most accessible to the cavalry, was the young + brother of Cola, so innocently mixed with the affray. Fast he fled, dizzy + with terror—poor boy, scarce before ever parted from his parents’ or + his brother’s side!—the trees glided past him—the banks + receded:—on he sped, and fast behind came the tramp of the hoofs—the + shouts—the curses—the fierce laughter of the foe, as they + bounded over the dead and the dying in their path. He was now at the spot + in which his brother had left him; hastily he glanced behind, and saw the + couched lance and horrent crest of the horseman close at his rear; + despairingly he looked up, and behold! his brother bursting through the + tangled brakes that clothed the mountain, and bounding to his succour. + </p> + <p> + “Save me! save me, brother!” he shrieked aloud, and the shriek reached + Cola’s ear;—the snort of the fiery charger breathed hot upon him;—a + moment more, and with one wild shrill cry of “Mercy, mercy” he fell to the + ground—a corpse: the lance of the pursuer passing through and + through him, from back to breast, and nailing him on the very sod where he + had sate, full of young life and careless hope, not an hour ago. + </p> + <p> + The horseman plucked forth his spear, and passed on in pursuit of new + victims; his comrades following. Cola had descended,—was on the + spot,—kneeling by his murdered brother. Presently, to the sound of + horn and trumpet, came by a nobler company than most of those hitherto + engaged; who had been, indeed, but the advanced-guard of the Colonna. At + their head rode a man in years, whose long white hair escaped from his + plumed cap and mingled with his venerable beard. “How is this?” said the + chief, reining in his steed, “young Rienzi!” + </p> + <p> + The youth looked up, as he heard that voice, and then flung himself before + the steed of the old noble, and, clasping his hands, cried out in a scarce + articulate tone: “It is my brother, noble Stephen,—a boy, a mere + child!—the best—the mildest! See how his blood dabbles the + grass;—back, back—your horse’s hoofs are in the stream! + Justice, my Lord, justice!—you are a great man.” + </p> + <p> + “Who slew him? an Orsini, doubtless; you shall have justice.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, thanks,” murmured Rienzi, as he tottered once more to his + brother’s side, turned the boy’s face from the grass, and strove wildly to + feel the pulse of his heart; he drew back his hand hastily, for it was + crimsoned with blood, and lifting that hand on high, shrieked out again, + “Justice! justice!” + </p> + <p> + The group round the old Stephen Colonna, hardened as they were in such + scenes, were affected by the sight. A handsome boy, whose tears ran fast + down his cheeks, and who rode his palfrey close by the side of the + Colonna, drew forth his sword. “My Lord,” said he, half sobbing, “an + Orsini only could have butchered a harmless lad like this; let us lose not + a moment,—let us on after the ruffians.” + </p> + <p> + “No, Adrian, no!” cried Stephen, laying his hand on the boy’s shoulder; + “your zeal is to be lauded, but we must beware an ambush. Our men have + ventured too far—what, ho, there!—sound a return.” + </p> + <p> + The bugles, in a few minutes, brought back the pursuers,—among them, + the horseman whose spear had been so fatally misused. He was the leader of + those engaged in the conflict with Martino di Porto; and the gold wrought + into his armour, with the gorgeous trappings of his charger, betokened his + rank. + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, my son, thanks,” said the old Colonna to this cavalier, “you have + done well and bravely. But tell me, knowest thou, for thou hast an eagle + eye, which of the Orsini slew this poor boy?—a foul deed; his + family, too, our clients!” + </p> + <p> + “Who? yon lad?” replied the horseman, lifting the helmet from his head, + and wiping his heated brow; “say you so! how came he, then, with Martino’s + rascals? I fear me the mistake hath cost him dear. I could but suppose him + of the Orsini rabble, and so—and so—” + </p> + <p> + “You slew him!” cried Rienzi, in a voice of thunder, starting from the + ground. “Justice! then, my Lord Stephen, justice! you promised me justice, + and I will have it!” + </p> + <p> + “My poor youth,” said the old man, compassionately, “you should have had + justice against the Orsini; but see you not this has been an error? I do + not wonder you are too grieved to listen to reason now. We must make this + up to you.” + </p> + <p> + “And let this pay for masses for the boy’s soul; I grieve me much for the + accident,” said the younger Colonna, flinging down a purse of gold. “Ay, + see us at the palace next week, young Cola—next week. My father, we + had best return towards the boat; its safeguard may require us yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Right, Gianni; stay, some two of you, and see to the poor lad’s corpse;—a + grievous accident! how could it chance?” + </p> + <p> + The company passed back the way they came, two of the common soldiers + alone remaining, except the boy Adrian, who lingered behind a few moments, + striving to console Rienzi, who, as one bereft of sense, remained + motionless, gazing on the proud array as it swept along, and muttering to + himself, “Justice, justice! I will have it yet.” + </p> + <p> + The loud voice of the elder Colonna summoned Adrian, reluctantly and + weeping, away. “Let me be your brother,” said the gallant boy, + affectionately pressing the scholar’s hand to his heart; “I want a brother + like you.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi made no reply; he did not heed or hear him—dark and stern + thoughts, thoughts in which were the germ of a mighty revolution, were at + his heart. He woke from them with a start, as the soldiers were now + arranging their bucklers so as to make a kind of bier for the corpse, and + then burst into tears as he fiercely motioned them away, and clasped the + clay to his breast till he was literally soaked with the oozing blood. + </p> + <p> + The poor child’s garland had not dropped from his arm even when he fell, + and, entangled by his dress, it still clung around him. It was a sight + that recalled to Cola all the gentleness, the kind heart, and winning + graces of his only brother—his only friend! It was a sight that + seemed to make yet more inhuman the untimely and unmerited fate of that + innocent boy. “My brother! my brother!” groaned the survivor; “how shall I + meet our mother?—how shall I meet even night and solitude again?—so + young, so harmless! See ye, sirs, he was but too gentle. And they will not + give us justice, because his murderer was a noble and a Colonna. And this + gold, too—gold for a brother’s blood! Will they not”—and the + young man’s eyes glared like fire—“will they not give us justice? + Time shall show!” so saying, he bent his head over the corpse; his lips + muttered, as with some prayer or invocation; and then rising, his face was + as pale as the dead beside him,—but it was no longer pale with + grief! + </p> + <p> + From that bloody clay, and that inward prayer, Cola di Rienzi rose a new + being. With his young brother died his own youth. But for that event, the + future liberator of Rome might have been but a dreamer, a scholar, a poet; + the peaceful rival of Petrarch; a man of thoughts, not deeds. But from + that time, all his faculties, energies, fancies, genius, became + concentrated into a single point; and patriotism, before a vision, leapt + into the life and vigour of a passion, lastingly kindled, stubbornly + hardened, and awfully consecrated,—by revenge! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.II. An Historical Survey—not to Be Passed Over, Except by + </h2> + <p> + Those Who Dislike to Understand What They Read. + </p> + <p> + Years had passed away, and the death of the Roman boy, amidst more noble + and less excusable slaughter, was soon forgotten,—forgotten almost + by the parents of the slain, in the growing fame and fortunes of their + eldest son,—forgotten and forgiven never by that son himself. But, + between that prologue of blood, and the political drama which ensues,—between + the fading interest, as it were, of a dream, and the more busy, actual, + and continuous excitements of sterner life,—this may be the most + fitting time to place before the reader a short and rapid outline of the + state and circumstances of that city in which the principal scenes of this + story are laid;—an outline necessary, perhaps, to many, for a full + comprehension of the motives of the actors, and the vicissitudes of the + plot. + </p> + <p> + Despite the miscellaneous and mongrel tribes that had forced their + settlements in the City of the Caesars, the Roman population retained an + inordinate notion of their own supremacy over the rest of the world; and, + degenerated from the iron virtues of the Republic, possessed all the + insolent and unruly turbulence which characterised the Plebs of the + ancient Forum. Amongst a ferocious, yet not a brave populace, the nobles + supported themselves less as sagacious tyrants than as relentless + banditti. The popes had struggled in vain against these stubborn and stern + patricians. Their state derided, their command defied, their persons + publicly outraged, the pontiff-sovereigns of the rest of Europe resided, + at the Vatican, as prisoners under terror of execution. When, thirty-eight + years before the date of the events we are about to witness, a Frenchman, + under the name of Clement V., had ascended the chair of St. Peter, the new + pope, with more prudence than valour, had deserted Rome for the tranquil + retreat of Avignon; and the luxurious town of a foreign province became + the court of the Roman pontiff, and the throne of the Christian Church. + </p> + <p> + Thus deprived of even the nominal check of the papal presence, the power + of the nobles might be said to have no limits, save their own caprice, or + their mutual jealousies and feuds. Though arrogating through fabulous + genealogies their descent from the ancient Romans, they were, in reality, + for the most part, the sons of the bolder barbarians of the North; and, + contaminated by the craft of Italy, rather than imbued with its national + affections, they retained the disdain of their foreign ancestors for a + conquered soil and a degenerate people. While the rest of Italy, + especially in Florence, in Venice, and in Milan, was fast and far + advancing beyond the other states of Europe in civilisation and in art, + the Romans appeared rather to recede than to improve;—unblest by + laws, unvisited by art, strangers at once to the chivalry of a warlike, + and the graces of a peaceful, people. But they still possessed the sense + and desire of liberty, and, by ferocious paroxysms and desperate + struggles, sought to vindicate for their city the title it still assumed + of “the Metropolis of the World.” For the last two centuries they had + known various revolutions—brief, often bloody, and always + unsuccessful. Still, there was the empty pageant of a popular form of + government. The thirteen quarters of the city named each a chief; and the + assembly of these magistrates, called Caporioni, by theory possessed an + authority they had neither the power nor the courage to exert. Still there + was the proud name of Senator; but, at the present time, the office was + confined to one or to two persons, sometimes elected by the pope, + sometimes by the nobles. The authority attached to the name seems to have + had no definite limit; it was that of a stern dictator, or an indolent + puppet, according as he who held it had the power to enforce the dignity + he assumed. It was never conceded but to nobles, and it was by the nobles + that all the outrages were committed. Private enmity alone was gratified + whenever public justice was invoked: and the vindication of order was but + the execution of revenge. + </p> + <p> + Holding their palaces as the castles and fortresses of princes, each + asserting his own independency of all authority and law, and planting + fortifications, and claiming principalities in the patrimonial territories + of the Church, the barons of Rome made their state still more secure, and + still more odious, by the maintenance of troops of foreign (chiefly of + German) mercenaries, at once braver in disposition, more disciplined in + service, and more skilful in arms, than even the freest Italians of that + time. Thus they united the judicial and the military force, not for the + protection, but for the ruin of Rome. Of these barons, the most powerful + were the Orsini and Colonna; their feuds were hereditary and incessant, + and every day witnessed the fruits of their lawless warfare, in bloodshed, + in rape, and in conflagration. The flattery or the friendship of Petrarch, + too credulously believed by modern historians, has invested the Colonna, + especially of the date now entered upon, with an elegance and a dignity + not their own. Outrage, fraud, and assassination, a sordid avarice in + securing lucrative offices to themselves, an insolent oppression of their + citizens, and the most dastardly cringing to power superior to their own + (with but few exceptions), mark the character of the first family of Rome. + But, wealthier than the rest of the barons, they were, therefore, more + luxurious, and, perhaps, more intellectual; and their pride was flattered + in being patrons of those arts of which they could never have become the + professors. From these multiplied oppressors the Roman citizens turned + with fond and impatient regret to their ignorant and dark notions of + departed liberty and greatness. They confounded the times of the Empire + with those of the Republic; and often looked to the Teutonic king, who + obtained his election from beyond the Alps, but his title of emperor from + the Romans, as the deserter of his legitimate trust and proper home; + vainly imagining that, if both the Emperor and the Pontiff fixed their + residence in Rome, Liberty and Law would again seek their natural shelter + beneath the resuscitated majesty of the Roman people. + </p> + <p> + The absence of the pope and the papal court served greatly to impoverish + the citizens; and they had suffered yet more visibly by the depredations + of hordes of robbers, numerous and unsparing, who infested Romagna, + obstructing all the public ways, and were, sometimes secretly, sometimes, + openly, protected by the barons, who often recruited their banditti + garrisons by banditti soldiers. + </p> + <p> + But besides the lesser and ignobler robbers, there had risen in Italy a + far more formidable description of freebooters. A German, who assumed the + lofty title of the Duke Werner, had, a few years prior to the period we + approach, enlisted and organised a considerable force, styled “The Great + Company,” with which he besieged cities and invaded states, without any + object less shameless than that of pillage. His example was soon imitated: + numerous “Companies,” similarly constituted, devastated the distracted and + divided land. They appeared, suddenly raised, as if by magic, before the + walls of a city, and demanded immense sums as the purchase of peace. + Neither tyrant nor common wealth maintained a force sufficient to resist + them; and if other northern mercenaries were engaged to oppose them, it + was only to recruit the standards of the freebooters with deserters. + Mercenary fought not mercenary—nor German, German: and greater pay, + and more unbridled rapine, made the tents of the “Companies” far more + attractive than the regulated stipends of a city, or the dull fortress and + impoverished coffers of a chief. Werner, the most implacable and ferocious + of all these adventurers, and who had so openly gloried in his enormities + as to wear upon his breast a silver plate, engraved with the words, “Enemy + to God, to Pity, and to Mercy,” had not long since ravaged Romagna with + fire and sword. But, whether induced by money, or unable to control the + fierce spirits he had raised, he afterwards led the bulk of his company + back to Germany. Small detachments, however, remained, scattered + throughout the land, waiting only an able leader once more to re-unite + them: amongst those who appeared most fitted for that destiny was Walter + de Montreal, a Knight of St. John, and gentleman of Provence, whose valour + and military genius had already, though yet young, raised his name into + dreaded celebrity; and whose ambition, experience, and sagacity, relieved + by certain chivalric and noble qualities, were suited to enterprises far + greater and more important than the violent depredations of the atrocious + Werner. From these scourges, no state had suffered more grievously than + Rome. The patrimonial territories of the pope,—in part wrested from + him by petty tyrants, in part laid waste by these foreign robbers,—yielded + but a scanty supply to the necessities of Clement VI., the most + accomplished gentleman and the most graceful voluptuary of his time; and + the good father had devised a plan, whereby to enrich at once the Romans + and their pontiff. + </p> + <p> + Nearly fifty years before the time we enter upon, in order both to + replenish the papal coffers and pacify the starving Romans, Boniface VIII. + had instituted the Festival of the Jubilee, or Holy Year; in fact, a + revival of a Pagan ceremonial. A plenary indulgence was promised to every + Catholic who, in that year, and in the first year of every succeeding + century, should visit the churches of St. Peter and St. Paul. An immense + concourse of pilgrims, from every part of Christendom, had attested the + wisdom of the invention; “and two priests stood night and day, with rakes + in their hands, to collect without counting the heaps of gold and silver + that were poured on the altar of St. Paul.” (Gibbon, vol. xii. c. 59.) + </p> + <p> + It is not to be wondered at that this most lucrative festival should, ere + the next century was half expired, appear to a discreet pontiff to be too + long postponed. And both pope and city agreed in thinking it might well + bear a less distant renewal. Accordingly, Clement VI. had proclaimed, + under the name of the Mosaic Jubilee, a second Holy Year for 1350—viz., + three years distant from that date at which, in the next chapter, my + narrative will commence. This circumstance had a great effect in whetting + the popular indignation against the barons, and preparing the events I + shall relate; for the roads were, as I before said, infested by the + banditti, the creatures and allies of the barons. And if the roads were + not cleared, the pilgrims might not attend. It was the object of the + pope’s vicar, Raimond, bishop of Orvietto (bad politician and good + canonist), to seek, by every means, to remove all impediment between the + offerings of devotion and the treasury of St. Peter. + </p> + <p> + Such, in brief, was the state of Rome at the period we are about to + examine. Her ancient mantle of renown still, in the eyes of Italy and of + Europe, cloaked her ruins. In name, at least, she was still the queen of + the earth; and from her hands came the crown of the emperor of the north, + and the keys of the father of the church. Her situation was precisely that + which presented a vase and glittering triumph to bold ambition,—an + inspiring, if mournful, spectacle to determined patriotism,—and a + fitting stage for that more august tragedy which seeks its incidents, + selects its actors, and shapes its moral, amidst the vicissitudes and + crimes of nations. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.III. The Brawl. + </h2> + <p> + On an evening in April, 1347, and in one of those wide spaces in which + Modern and Ancient Rome seemed blent together—equally desolate and + equally in ruins—a miscellaneous and indignant populace were + assembled. That morning the house of a Roman jeweller had been forcibly + entered and pillaged by the soldiers of Martino di Porto, with a daring + effrontery which surpassed even the ordinary licence of the barons. The + sympathy and sensation throughout the city were deep and ominous. + </p> + <p> + “Never will I submit to this tyranny!” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I!” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I!” + </p> + <p> + “Nor by the bones of St. Peter, will I!” + </p> + <p> + “And what, my friends, is this tyranny to which you will not submit?” said + a young nobleman, addressing himself to the crowd of citizens who, heated, + angry, half-armed, and with the vehement gestures of Italian passion, were + now sweeping down the long and narrow street that led to the gloomy + quarter occupied by the Orsini. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my lord!” cried two or three of the citizens in a breath, “you will + right us—you will see justice done to us—you are a Colonna.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha, ha!” laughed scornfully one man of gigantic frame, and wielding + on high a huge hammer, indicative of his trade. “Justice and Colonna! body + of God! those names are not often found together.” + </p> + <p> + “Down with him! down with him! he is an Orsinist—down with him!” + cried at least ten of the throng: but no hand was raised against the + giant. + </p> + <p> + “He speaks the truth,” said a second voice, firmly. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, that doth he,” said a third, knitting his brows, and unsheathing his + knife, “and we will abide by it. The Orsini are tyrants—and the + Colonnas are, at the best, as bad.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou liest in thy teeth, ruffian!” cried the young noble, advancing into + the press and confronting the last asperser of the Colonna. + </p> + <p> + Before the flashing eye and menacing gesture of the cavalier, the worthy + brawler retreated some steps, so as to leave an open space between the + towering form of the smith, and the small, slender, but vigorous frame of + the young noble. + </p> + <p> + Taught from their birth to despise the courage of the plebeians, even + while careless of much reputation as to their own, the patricians of Rome + were not unaccustomed to the rude fellowship of these brawls; nor was it + unoften that the mere presence of a noble sufficed to scatter whole + crowds, that had the moment before been breathing vengeance against his + order and his house. + </p> + <p> + Waving his hand, therefore, to the smith, and utterly unheeding either his + brandished weapon or his vast stature, the young Adrian di Castello, a + distant kinsman of the Colonna, haughtily bade him give way. + </p> + <p> + “To your homes, friends! and know,” he added, with some dignity, “that ye + wrong us much, if ye imagine we share the evil-doings of the Orsini, or + are pandering solely to our own passions in the feud between their house + and ours. May the Holy Mother so judge me,” continued he, devoutly lifting + up his eyes, “as I now with truth declare, that it is for your wrongs, and + for the wrongs of Rome, that I have drawn this sword against the Orsini.” + </p> + <p> + “So say all the tyrants,” rejoined the smith, hardily, as he leant his + hammer against a fragment of stone—some remnant of ancient Rome—“they + never fight against each other, but it is for our good. One Colonna cuts + me the throat of Orsini’s baker—it is for our good! Another Colonna + seizes on the daughter of Orsini’s tailor—it is for our good! our + good—yes, for the good of the people! the good of the bakers and + tailors, eh?” + </p> + <p> + “Fellow,” said the young nobleman, gravely, “if a Colonna did thus, he did + wrong; but the holiest cause may have bad supporters.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, the holy Church itself is propped on very in different columns,” + answered the smith, in a rude witticism on the affection of the pope for + the Colonna. + </p> + <p> + “He blasphemes! the smith blasphemes!” cried the partisans of that + powerful house. “A Colonna, a Colonna!” + </p> + <p> + “An Orsini, an Orsini!” was no less promptly the counter cry. + </p> + <p> + “The People!” shouted the smith, waving his formidable weapon far above + the heads of the group. + </p> + <p> + In an instant the whole throng, who had at first united against the + aggression of one man, were divided by the hereditary wrath of faction. At + the cry of Orsini, several new partisans hurried to the spot; the friends + of the Colonna drew themselves on one side—the defenders of the + Orsini on the other—and the few who agreed with the smith that both + factions were equally odious, and the people was the sole legitimate cry + in a popular commotion, would have withdrawn themselves from the + approaching melee, if the smith himself, who was looked upon by them as an + authority of great influence, had not—whether from resentment at the + haughty bearing of the young Colonna, or from that appetite of contest not + uncommon in men of a bulk and force which assure them in all personal + affrays the lofty pleasure of superiority—if, I say, the smith + himself had not, after a pause of indecision, retired among the Orsini, + and entrained, by his example, the alliance of his friends with the + favourers of that faction. + </p> + <p> + In popular commotions, each man is whirled along with the herd, often half + against his own approbation or assent. The few words of peace by which + Adrian di Castello commenced an address to his friends were drowned amidst + their shouts. Proud to find in their ranks one of the most beloved, and + one of the noblest of that name, the partisans of the Colonna placed him + in their front, and charged impetuously on their foes. Adrian, however, + who had acquired from circumstances something of that chivalrous code + which he certainly could not have owed to his Roman birth, disdained at + first to assault men among whom he recognised no equal, either in rank or + the practice of arms. He contented himself with putting aside the few + strokes that were aimed at him in the gathering confusion of the conflict—few; + for those who recognised him, even amidst the bitterest partisans of the + Orsini, were not willing to expose themselves to the danger and odium of + spilling the blood of a man, who, in addition to his great birth and the + terrible power of his connexions, was possessed of a personal popularity, + which he owed rather to a comparison with the vices of his relatives than + to any remarkable virtues hitherto displayed by himself. The smith alone, + who had as yet taken no active part in the fray, seemed to gather himself + up in determined opposition as the cavalier now advanced within a few + steps of him. + </p> + <p> + “Did we not tell thee,” quoth the giant, frowning, “that the Colonna were, + not less than the Orsini, the foes of the people? Look at thy followers + and clients: are they not cutting the throats of humble men by way of + vengeance for the crime of a great one? But that is the way one patrician + always scourges the insolence of another. He lays the rod on the backs of + the people, and then cries, ‘See how just I am!’” + </p> + <p> + “I do not answer thee now,” answered Adrian; “but if thou regrettest with + me this waste of blood, join with me in attempting to prevent it.” + </p> + <p> + “I—not I! let the blood of the slaves flow today: the time is fast + coming when it shall be washed away by the blood of the lords.” + </p> + <p> + “Away, ruffian!” said Adrian, seeking no further parley, and touching the + smith with the flat side of his sword. In an instant the hammer of the + smith swung in the air, and, but for the active spring of the young noble, + would infallibly have crushed him to the earth. Ere the smith could gain + time for a second blow, Adrian’s sword passed twice through his right arm, + and the weapon fell heavily to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “Slay him, slay him!” cried several of the clients of the Colonna, now + pressing, dastard-like, round the disarmed and disabled smith. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, slay him!” said, in tolerable Italian, but with a barbarous accent, + one man, half-clad in armour, who had but just joined the group, and who + was one of those wild German bandits whom the Colonna held in their pay; + “he belongs to a horrible gang of miscreants sworn against all order and + peace. He is one of Rienzi’s followers, and, bless the Three Kings! raves + about the People.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou sayest right, barbarian,” said the sturdy smith, in a loud voice, + and tearing aside the vest from his breast with his left hand; “come all—Colonna + and Orsini—dig to this heart with your sharp blades, and when you + have reached the centre, you will find there the object of your common + hatred—‘Rienzi and the People!’” + </p> + <p> + As he uttered these words, in language that would have seemed above his + station (if a certain glow and exaggeration of phrase and sentiment were + not common, when excited, to all the Romans), the loudness of his voice + rose above the noise immediately round him, and stilled, for an instant, + the general din; and when, at last, the words, “Rienzi and the People” + rang forth, they penetrated midway through the increasing crowd, and were + answered as by an echo, with a hundred voices—“Rienzi and the + People!” + </p> + <p> + But whatever impression the words of the mechanic made on others, it was + equally visible in the young Colonna. At the name of Rienzi the glow of + excitement vanished from his cheek; he started back, muttered to himself, + and for a moment seemed, even in the midst of that stirring commotion, to + be lost in a moody and distant revery. He recovered, as the shout died + away; and saying to the smith, in a low tone, “Friend, I am sorry for thy + wound; but seek me on the morrow, and thou shalt find thou hast wronged + me;” he beckoned to the German to follow him, and threaded his way through + the crowd, which generally gave back as he advanced. For the bitterest + hatred to the order of the nobles was at that time in Rome mingled with a + servile respect for their persons, and a mysterious awe of their + uncontrollable power. + </p> + <p> + As Adrian passed through that part of the crowd in which the fray had not + yet commenced, the murmurs that followed him were not those which many of + his race could have heard. + </p> + <p> + “A Colonna,” said one. + </p> + <p> + “Yet no ravisher,” said another, laughing wildly. + </p> + <p> + “Nor murtherer,” muttered a third, pressing his hand to his breast. “‘Tis + not against him that my father’s blood cries aloud.” + </p> + <p> + “Bless him,” said a fourth, “for as yet no man curses him!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, God help us!” said an old man, with a long grey beard, leaning on his + staff: “The serpent’s young yet; the fangs will show by and by.” + </p> + <p> + “For shame, father! he is a comely youth, and not proud in the least. What + a smile he hath!” quoth a fair matron, who kept on the outskirt of the + melee. + </p> + <p> + “Farewell to a man’s honour when a noble smiles on his wife!” was the + answer. + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Luigi, a jolly butcher, with a roguish eye, “what a man can + win fairly from maid or wife, that let him do, whether plebeian or noble—that’s + my morality; but when an ugly old patrician finds fair words will not win + fair looks, and carries me off a dame on the back of a German boar, with a + stab in the side for comfort to the spouse,—then, I say, he is a + wicked man, and an adulterer.” + </p> + <p> + While such were the comments and the murmurs that followed the noble, very + different were the looks and words that attended the German soldier. + </p> + <p> + Equally, nay, with even greater promptitude, did the crowd make way at his + armed and heavy tread; but not with looks of reverence:—the eye + glared as he approached; but the cheek grew pale—the head bowed—the + lip quivered; each man felt a shudder of hate and fear, as recognizing a + dread and mortal foe. And well and wrathfully did the fierce mercenary + note the signs of the general aversion. He pushed on rudely—half-smiling + in contempt, half-frowning in revenge, as he looked from side to side; and + his long, matted, light hair, tawny-coloured moustache, and brawny front, + contrasted strongly with the dark eyes, raven locks, and slender frames of + the Italians. + </p> + <p> + “May Lucifer double damn those German cut-throats!” muttered, between his + grinded teeth, one of the citizens. + </p> + <p> + “Amen!” answered, heartily, another. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said a third, timorously looking round; “if one of them hear thee, + thou art a lost man.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rome! Rome! to what art thou fallen!” said bitterly one citizen, + clothed in black, and of a higher seeming than the rest; “when thou + shudderest in thy streets at the tread of a hired barbarian!” + </p> + <p> + “Hark to one of our learned men, and rich citizens!” said the butcher, + reverently. + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis a friend of Rienzi’s,” quoth another of the group, lifting his cap. + </p> + <p> + With downcast eyes, and a face in which grief, shame, and wrath, were + visibly expressed, Pandulfo di Guido, a citizen of birth and repute, swept + slowly through the crowd, and disappeared. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Adrian, having gained a street which, though in the + neighbourhood of the crowd, was empty and desolate, turned to his fierce + comrade. “Rodolf!” said he, “mark!—no violence to the citizens. + Return to the crowd, collect the friends of our house, withdraw them from + the scene; let not the Colonna be blamed for this day’s violence; and + assure our followers, in my name, that I swear, by the knighthood I + received at the Emperor’s hands, that by my sword shall Martino di Porto + be punished for his outrage. Fain would I, in person, allay the tumult, + but my presence only seems to sanction it. Go—thou hast weight with + them all.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, Signor, the weight of blows!” answered the grim soldier. “But the + command is hard; I would fain let their puddle-blood flow an hour or two + longer. Yet, pardon me; in obeying thy orders, do I obey those of my + master, thy kinsman? It is old Stephen Colonna—who seldom spares + blood or treasure, God bless him—(save his own!)—whose money I + hold, and to whose hests I am sworn.” + </p> + <p> + “Diavolo!” muttered the cavalier, and the angry spot was on his cheek; + but, with the habitual self-control of the Italian nobles, he smothered + his rising choler, and said aloud, with calmness, but dignity— + </p> + <p> + “Do as I bid thee; check this tumult—make us the forbearing party. + Let all be still within one hour hence, and call on me tomorrow for thy + reward; be this purse an earnest of my future thanks. As for my kinsman, + whom I command thee to name more reverently, ‘tis in his name I speak. + Hark! the din increases—the contest swells—go—lose not + another moment.” + </p> + <p> + Somewhat awed by the quiet firmness of the patrician, Rodolf nodded, + without answer, slid the money into his bosom, and stalked away into the + thickest of the throng. But, even ere he arrived, a sudden reaction had + taken place. + </p> + <p> + The young cavalier, left alone in that spot, followed with his eyes the + receding form of the mercenary, as the sun, now setting, shone slant upon + his glittering casque, and said bitterly to himself—“Unfortunate + city, fountain of all mighty memories—fallen queen of a thousand + nations—how art thou decrowned and spoiled by thy recreant and + apostate children! Thy nobles divided against themselves—thy people + cursing thy nobles—thy priests, who should sow peace, planting + discord—the father of thy church deserting thy stately walls, his + home a refuge, his mitre a fief, his court a Gallic village—and we! + we, of the haughtiest blood of Rome—we, the sons of Caesars, and of + the lineage of demigods, guarding an insolent and abhorred state by the + swords of hirelings, who mock our cowardice while they receive our pay—who + keep our citizens slaves, and lord it over their very masters in return! + Oh, that we, the hereditary chiefs of Rome, could but feel—oh, that + we could but find, our only legitimate safeguard in the grateful hearts of + our countrymen!” + </p> + <p> + So deeply did the young Adrian feel the galling truth of all he uttered, + that the indignant tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke. He felt no + shame as he dashed them away; for that weakness which weeps for a fallen + race, is the tenderness not of women but of angels. + </p> + <p> + As he turned slowly to quit the spot, his steps were suddenly arrested by + a loud shout: “Rienzi! Rienzi!” smote the air. From the walls of the + Capitol to the bed of the glittering Tiber, that name echoed far and wide; + and, as the shout died away, it was swallowed up in a silence so profound, + so universal, so breathless, that you might have imagined that death + itself had fallen over the city. And now, at the extreme end of the crowd, + and elevated above their level, on vast fragments of stone which had been + dragged from the ruins of Rome in one of the late frequent tumults between + contending factions, to serve as a barricade for citizens against + citizens,—on these silent memorials of the past grandeur, the + present misery, of Rome, stood that extraordinary man, who, above all his + race, was the most penetrated with the glories of the one time, with the + degradation of the other. + </p> + <p> + From the distance at which he stood from the scene, Adrian could only + distinguish the dark outline of Rienzi’s form; he could only hear the + faint sound of his mighty voice; he could only perceive, in the subdued + yet waving sea of human beings that spread around, their heads bared in + the last rays of the sun, the unutterable effect which an eloquence, + described by contemporaries almost as miraculous,—but in reality + less so from the genius of the man than the sympathy of the audience,—created + in all, who drank into their hearts and souls the stream of its burning + thoughts. + </p> + <p> + It was but for a short time that that form was visible to the earnest eye, + that that voice at intervals reached the straining ear, of Adrian di + Castello; but that time sufficed to produce all the effect which Adrian + himself had desired. + </p> + <p> + Another shout, more earnest, more prolonged than the first—a shout, + in which spoke the release of swelling thoughts, of intense excitement—betokened + the close of the harangue; and then you might see, after a minute’s pause, + the crowd breaking in all directions, and pouring down the avenues in + various knots and groups, each testifying the strong and lasting + impression made upon the multitude by that address. Every cheek was + flushed—every tongue spoke: the animation of the orator had passed, + like a living spirit, into the breasts of the audience. He had thundered + against the disorders of the patricians, yet, by a word, he had disarmed + the anger of the plebeians—he had preached freedom, yet he had + opposed licence. He had calmed the present, by a promise of the future. He + had chid their quarrels, yet had supported their cause. He had mastered + the revenge of today, by a solemn assurance that there should come justice + for the morrow. So great may be the power, so mighty the eloquence, so + formidable the genius, of one man,—without arms, without rank, + without sword or ermine, who addresses himself to a people that is + oppressed! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.IV. An Adventure. + </h2> + <p> + Avoiding the broken streams of the dispersed crowd, Adrian Colonna strode + rapidly down one of the narrow streets leading to his palace, which was + situated at no inconsiderable distance from the place in which the late + contest had occurred. The education of his life made him feel a profound + interest, not only in the divisions and disputes of his country, but also + in the scene he had just witnessed, and the authority exercised by Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + An orphan of a younger, but opulent branch of the Colonna, Adrian had been + brought up under the care and guardianship of his kinsman, that astute, + yet valiant Stephen Colonna, who, of all the nobles of Rome, was the most + powerful, alike from the favour of the pope, and the number of armed + hirelings whom his wealth enabled him to maintain. Adrian had early + manifested what in that age was considered an extraordinary disposition + towards intellectual pursuits, and had acquired much of the little that + was then known of the ancient language and the ancient history of his + country. + </p> + <p> + Though Adrian was but a boy at the time in which, first presented to the + reader, he witnessed the emotions of Rienzi at the death of his brother, + his kind heart had been penetrated with sympathy for Cola’s affliction, + and shame for the apathy of his kinsmen at the result of their own feuds. + He had earnestly sought the friendship of Rienzi, and, despite his years, + had become aware of the power and energy of his character. But though + Rienzi, after a short time, had appeared to think no more of his brother’s + death—though he again entered the halls of the Colonna, and shared + their disdainful hospitalities, he maintained a certain distance and + reserve of manner, which even Adrian could only partially overcome. He + rejected every offer of service, favour, or promotion; and any unwonted + proof of kindness from Adrian seemed, instead of making him more familiar, + to offend him into colder distance. The easy humour and conversational + vivacity which had first rendered him a welcome guest with those who + passed their lives between fighting and feasting, had changed into a vein + ironical, cynical, and severe. But the dull barons were equally amused at + his wit, and Adrian was almost the only one who detected the serpent + couched beneath the smile. + </p> + <p> + Often Rienzi sat at the feast, silent, but observant, as if watching every + look, weighing every word, taking gauge and measurement of the intellect, + policy, temperament, of every guest; and when he had seemed to satisfy + himself, his spirits would rise, his words flow, and while his dazzling + but bitter wit lit up the revel, none saw that the unmirthful flash was + the token of the coming storm. But all the while, he neglected no occasion + to mix with the humbler citizens, to stir up their minds, to inflame their + imaginations, to kindle their emulation, with pictures of the present and + with legends of the past. He grew in popularity and repute, and was yet + more in power with the herd, because in favour with the nobles. Perhaps it + was for that reason that he had continued the guest of the Colonna. + </p> + <p> + When, six years before the present date, the Capitol of the Caesars + witnessed the triumph of Petrarch, the scholastic fame of the young Rienzi + had attracted the friendship of the poet,—a friendship that + continued, with slight interruption, to the last, through careers so + widely different; and afterwards, one among the Roman Deputies to Avignon, + he had been conjoined with Petrarch (According to the modern historians; + but it seems more probable that Rienzi’s mission to Avignon was posterior + to that of Petrarch. However this be, it was at Avignon that Petrarch and + Rienzi became most intimate, as Petrarch himself observes in one of his + letters.) to supplicate Clement VI. to remove the Holy See from Avignon to + Rome. It was in this mission that, for the first time, he evinced his + extraordinary powers of eloquence and persuasion. The pontiff, indeed, + more desirous of ease than glory, was not convinced by the arguments, but + he was enchanted with the pleader; and Rienzi returned to Rome, loaded + with honours, and clothed with the dignity of high and responsible office. + No longer the inactive scholar, the gay companion, he rose at once to + pre-eminence above all his fellow-citizens. Never before had authority + been borne with so austere an integrity, so uncorrupt a zeal. He had + sought to impregnate his colleagues with the same loftiness of principle—he + had failed. Now secure in his footing, he had begun openly to appeal to + the people; and already a new spirit seemed to animate the populace of + Rome. + </p> + <p> + While these were the fortunes of Rienzi, Adrian had been long separated + from him, and absent from Rome. + </p> + <p> + The Colonna were staunch supporters of the imperial party, and Adrian di + Castello had received and obeyed an invitation to the Emperor’s court. + Under that monarch he had initiated himself in arms, and, among the + knights of Germany, he had learned to temper the natural Italian + shrewdness with the chivalry of northern valour. + </p> + <p> + In leaving Bavaria, he had sojourned a short time in the solitude of one + of his estates by the fairest lake of northern Italy; and thence, with a + mind improved alike by action and study, had visited many of the free + Italian states, imbibed sentiments less prejudiced than those of his + order, and acquired an early reputation for himself while inly marking the + characters and deeds of others. In him, the best qualities of the Italian + noble were united. Passionately addicted to the cultivation of letters, + subtle and profound in policy, gentle and bland of manner, dignifying a + love of pleasure with a certain elevation of taste, he yet possessed a + gallantry of conduct, and purity of honour, and an aversion from cruelty, + which were then very rarely found in the Italian temperament, and which + even the Chivalry of the North, while maintaining among themselves, + usually abandoned the moment they came into contact with the systematic + craft and disdain of honesty, which made the character of the ferocious, + yet wily, South. With these qualities he combined, indeed, the softer + passions of his countrymen,—he adored Beauty, and he made a deity of + Love. + </p> + <p> + He had but a few weeks returned to his native city, whither his reputation + had already preceded him, and where his early affection for letters and + gentleness of bearing were still remembered. He returned to find the + position of Rienzi far more altered than his own. Adrian had not yet + sought the scholar. He wished first to judge with his own eyes, and at a + distance, of the motives and object of his conduct; for partly he caught + the suspicions which his own order entertained of Rienzi, and partly he + shared in the trustful enthusiasm of the people. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly,” said he now to himself, as he walked musingly onward, + “certainly, no man has it more in his power to reform our diseased state, + to heal our divisions, to awaken our citizens to the recollections of + ancestral virtue. But that very power, how dangerous is it! Have I not + seen, in the free states of Italy, men, called into authority for the sake + of preserving the people, honest themselves at first, and then, drunk with + the sudden rank, betraying the very cause which had exalted them? True, + those men were chiefs and nobles; but are plebeians less human? Howbeit I + have heard and seen enough from afar,—I will now approach, and + examine the man himself.” + </p> + <p> + While thus soliloquizing, Adrian but little noted the various passengers, + who, more and more rarely as the evening waned, hastened homeward. Among + these were two females, who now alone shared with Adrian the long and + gloomy street into which he had entered. The moon was already bright in + the heavens, and, as the women passed the cavalier with a light and quick + step, the younger one turned back and regarded him by the clear light with + an eager, yet timid glance. + </p> + <p> + “Why dost thou tremble, my pretty one!” said her companion, who might have + told some five-and-forty years, and whose garb and voice bespoke her of + inferior rank to the younger female. “The streets seem quiet enough now, + and, the Virgin be praised! we are not so far from home either.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Benedetta, it is he! it is the young signor—it is Adrian!” + </p> + <p> + “That is fortunate,” said the nurse, for such was her condition, “since + they say he is as bold as a Northman: and as the Palazzo Colonna is not + very far from hence, we shall be within reach of his aid should we want + it: that is to say, sweet one, if you will walk a little slower than you + have yet done.” + </p> + <p> + The young lady slackened her pace, and sighed. + </p> + <p> + “He is certainly very handsome,” quoth the nurse: “but thou must not think + more of him; he is too far above thee for marriage, and for aught else, + thou art too honest, and thy brother too proud—” + </p> + <p> + “And thou, Benedetta, art too quick with thy tongue. How canst thou talk + thus, when thou knowest he hath never, since, at least, I was a mere + child, even addressed me: nay, he scarce knows of my very existence. He, + the Lord Adrian di Castello, dream of the poor Irene! The mere thought is + madness!” + </p> + <p> + “Then why,” said the nurse, briskly, “dost thou dream of him?” + </p> + <p> + Her companion sighed again more deeply than at first. + </p> + <p> + “Holy St. Catherine!” continued Benedetta, “if there were but one man in + the world, I would die single ere I would think of him, until, at least, + he had kissed my hand twice, and left it my own fault if it were not my + lips instead.” + </p> + <p> + The young lady still replied not. + </p> + <p> + “But how didst thou contrive to love him?” asked the nurse. “Thou canst + not have seen him very often: it is but some four or five weeks since his + return to Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, how dull art thou?” answered the fair Irene. “Have I not told thee + again and again, that I loved him six years ago?” + </p> + <p> + “When thou hadst told but thy tenth year, and a doll would have been thy + most suitable lover! As I am a Christian, Signora, thou hast made good use + of thy time. + </p> + <p> + “And during his absence,” continued the girl, fondly, yet sadly, “did I + not hear him spoken of, and was not the mere sound of his name like a + love-gift that bade me remember? And when they praised him, have I not + rejoiced? and when they blamed him, have I not resented? and when they + said that his lance was victorious in the tourney, did I not weep with + pride? and when they whispered that his vows were welcome in the bower, + wept I not as fervently with grief? Have not the six years of his absence + been a dream, and was not his return a waking into light—a morning + of glory and the sun? and I see him now in the church when he wots not of + me; and on his happy steed as he passes by my lattice: and is not that + enough of happiness for love?” + </p> + <p> + “But if he loves not thee?” + </p> + <p> + “Fool! I ask not that;—nay, I know not if I wish it. Perhaps I would + rather dream of him, such as I would have him, than know him for what he + is. He might be unkind, or ungenerous, or love me but little; rather would + I not be loved at all, than loved coldly, and eat away my heart by + comparing it with his. I can love him now as something abstract, unreal, + and divine: but what would be my shame, my grief, if I were to find him + less than I have imagined! Then, indeed, my life would have been wasted; + then, indeed, the beauty of the earth would be gone!” + </p> + <p> + The good nurse was not very capable of sympathizing with sentiments like + these. Even had their characters been more alike, their disparity of age + would have rendered such sympathy impossible. What but youth can echo back + the soul of youth—all the music of its wild vanities and romantic + follies? The good nurse did not sympathize with the sentiments of her + young lady, but she sympathised with the deep earnestness with which they + were expressed. She thought it wondrous silly, but wondrous moving; she + wiped her eyes with the corner of her veil, and hoped in her secret heart + that her young charge would soon get a real husband to put such + unsubstantial fantasies out of her head. There was a short pause in their + conversation, when, just where two streets crossed one another, there was + heard a loud noise of laughing voices and trampling feet. Torches were + seen on high affronting the pale light of the moon; and, at a very short + distance from the two females, in the cross street, advanced a company of + seven or eight men, bearing, as seen by the red light of the torches, the + formidable badge of the Orsini. + </p> + <p> + Amidst the other disorders of the time, it was no unfrequent custom for + the younger or more dissolute of the nobles, in small and armed companies, + to parade the streets at night, seeking occasion for a licentious + gallantry among the cowering citizens, or a skirmish at arms with some + rival stragglers of their own order. Such a band had Irene and her + companion now chanced to encounter. + </p> + <p> + “Holy mother!” cried Benedetta, turning pale, and half running, “what + curse has befallen us? How could we have been so foolish as to tarry so + late at the lady Nina’s! Run, Signora,—run, or we shall fall into + their hands!” + </p> + <p> + But the advice of Benedetta came too late,—the fluttering garments + of the women had been already descried: in a moment more they were + surrounded by the marauders. A rude hand tore aside Benedetta’s veil, and + at sight of features, which, if time had not spared, it could never very + materially injure, the rough aggressor cast the poor nurse against the + wall with a curse, which was echoed by a loud laugh from his comrades. + </p> + <p> + “Thou hast a fine fortune in faces Giuseppe!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; it was but the other day that he seized on a girl of sixty.” + </p> + <p> + “And then, by way of improving her beauty, cut her across the face with + his dagger, because she was not sixteen!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, fellows! whom have we here?” said the chief of the party, a man + richly dressed, and who, though bordering upon middle age, had only the + more accustomed himself to the excesses of youth; as he spoke, he snatched + the trembling Irene from the grasp of his followers. “Ho, there! the + torches! Oh che bella faccia! what blushes—what eyes!—nay, + look not down, pretty one; thou needst not be ashamed to win the love of + an Orsini—yes; know the triumph thou hast achieved—it is + Martino di Porto who bids thee smile upon him!” + </p> + <p> + “For the blest Mother’s sake release me! Nay, sir, this must not be—I + am not unfriended—this insult shall not pass!” + </p> + <p> + “Hark to her silver chiding; it is better than my best hound’s bay! This + adventure is worth a month’s watching. What! will you not come?—restive—shrieks + too!—Francesco, Pietro, ye are the gentlest of the band. Wrap her + veil around her,—muffle this music;—so! bear her before me to + the palace, and tomorrow, sweet one, thou shalt go home with a basket of + florins which thou mayest say thou hast bought at market.” + </p> + <p> + But Irene’s shrieks, Irene’s struggles, had already brought succour to her + side, and, as Adrian approached the spot, the nurse flung herself on her + knees before him. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, sweet signor, for Christ’s grace save us! Deliver my young mistress—her + friends love you well! We are all for the Colonna, my lord; yes, indeed, + all for the Colonna! Save the kin of your own clients, gracious signor!” + </p> + <p> + “It is enough that she is a woman,” answered Adrian, adding, between his + teeth, “and that an Orsini is her assailant.” He strode haughtily into the + thickest of the group; the servitors laid hands on their swords, but gave + way before him as they recognised his person; he reached the two men who + had already seized Irene; in one moment he struck the foremost to the + ground, in another, he had passed his left arm round the light and slender + form of the maiden, and stood confronting the Orsini with his drawn blade, + which, however, he pointed to the ground. + </p> + <p> + “For shame, my lord—for shame!” said he, indignantly. “Will you + force Rome to rise, to a man, against our order? Vex not too far the lion, + chained though he be; war against us if ye will! draw your blades upon + men, though they be of your own race, and speak your own tongue: but if ye + would sleep at nights, and not dread the avenger’s gripe,—if ye + would walk the market-place secure,—wrong not a Roman woman! Yes, + the very walls around us preach to you the punishment of such a deed: for + that offence fell the Tarquins,—for that offence were swept away the + Decemvirs,—for that offence, if ye rush upon it, the blood of your + whole house may flow like water. Cease, then, my lord, from this mad + attempt, so unworthy your great name; cease, and thank even a Colonna that + he has come between you and a moment’s frenzy!” + </p> + <p> + So noble, so lofty were the air and gesture of Adrian, as he thus spoke, + that even the rude servitors felt a thrill of approbation and remorse—not + so Martino di Porto. He had been struck with the beauty of the prey thus + suddenly snatched from him; he had been accustomed to long outrage and to + long impunity; the very sight, the very voice of a Colonna, was a blight + to his eye and a discord to his ear: what, then, when a Colonna interfered + with his lusts, and rebuked his vices? + </p> + <p> + “Pedant!” he cried, with quivering lips, “prate not to me of thy vain + legends and gossip’s tales! think not to snatch from me my possession in + another, when thine own life is in my hands. Unhand the maiden! throw down + thy sword! return home without further parley, or, by my faith, and the + blades of my followers—(look at them well!)—thou diest!” + </p> + <p> + “Signor,” said Adrian, calmly, yet while he spoke he retreated gradually + with his fair burthen towards the neighbouring wall, so as at least to + leave only his front exposed to those fearful odds: “Thou will not so + misuse the present chances, and wrong thyself in men’s mouths, as to + attack with eight swords even thy hereditary foe, thus cumbered, too, as + he is. But—nay hold!—if thou art so proposed, bethink thee + well, one cry of my voice would soon turn the odds against thee. Thou art + now in the quarter of my tribe; thou art surrounded by the habitations of + the Colonna: yon palace swarms with men who sleep not, save with harness + on their backs; men whom my voice can reach even now, but from whom, if + they once taste of blood, it could not save thee!” + </p> + <p> + “He speaks true, noble Lord,” said one of the band: “we have wandered too + far out of our beat; we are in their very den; the palace of old Stephen + Colonna is within call; and, to my knowledge,” added he, in a whisper, + “eighteen fresh men-of-arms—ay, and Northmen too—marched + through its gates this day.” + </p> + <p> + “Were there eight hundred men at arm’s length,” answered Martino + furiously, “I would not be thus bearded amidst mine own train! Away with + yon woman! To the attack! to the attack!” + </p> + <p> + Thus saying, he made a desperate lunge at Adrian, who, having kept his eye + cautiously on the movements of his enemy, was not unprepared for the + assault. As he put aside the blade with his own, he shouted with a loud + voice—“Colonna! to the rescue, Colonna!” + </p> + <p> + Nor had it been without an ulterior object that the acute and + self-controlling mind of Adrian had hitherto sought to prolong the parley. + Even as he first addressed Orsini, he had perceived, by the moonlight, the + glitter of armour upon two men advancing from the far end of the street, + and judged at once, by the neighbourhood, that they must be among the + mercenaries of the Colonna. + </p> + <p> + Gently he suffered the form of Irene, which now, for she had swooned with + the terror, pressed too heavily upon him, to slide from his left arm, and + standing over her form, while sheltered from behind by the wall which he + had so warily gained, he contented himself with parrying the blows hastily + aimed at him, without attempting to retaliate. Few of the Romans, however + accustomed to such desultory warfare, were then well and dexterously + practised in the use of arms; and the science Adrian had acquired in the + schools of the martial north, befriended him now, even against such odds. + It is true, indeed, that the followers of Orsini did not share the fury of + their lord; partly afraid of the consequence to themselves should the + blood of so highborn a signor be spilt by their hands, partly embarrassed + with the apprehension that they should see themselves suddenly beset with + the ruthless hirelings so close within hearing, they struck but aimless + and random blows, looking every moment behind and aside, and rather + prepared for flight than slaughter. Echoing the cry of “Colonna,” poor + Benedetta fled at the first clash of swords. She ran down the dreary + street still shrieking that cry, and passed the very portals of Stephen’s + palace (where some grim forms yet loitered) without arresting her steps + there, so great were her confusion and terror. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, the two armed men, whom Adrian had descried, proceeded + leisurely up the street. The one was of a rude and common mould, his arms + and his complexion testified his calling and race; and by the great + respect he paid to his companion, it was evident that that companion was + no native of Italy. For the brigands of the north, while they served the + vices of the southern, scarce affected to disguise their contempt for his + cowardice. + </p> + <p> + The companion of the brigand was a man of a martial, yet easy air. He wore + no helmet, but a cap of crimson velvet, set off with a white plume; on his + mantle, or surcoat, which was of scarlet, was wrought a broad white cross, + both at back and breast; and so brilliant was the polish of his corselet, + that, as from time to time the mantle waved aside and exposed it to the + moonbeams, it glittered like light itself. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Rodolf,” said he, “if thou hast so good a lot of it here with that + hoary schemer, Heaven forbid that I should wish to draw thee back again to + our merry band. But tell me—this Rienzi—thinkest thou he has + any solid and formidable power?” + </p> + <p> + “Pshaw! noble chieftain, not a whit of it. He pleases the mob; but as for + the nobles, they laugh at him; and, as for the soldiers, he has no money!” + </p> + <p> + “He pleases the mob, then!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, that doth he; and when he speaks aloud to them, all the roar of Rome + is hushed.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!—when nobles are hated, and soldiers are bought, a mob may, + in any hour, become the master. An honest people and a weak mob,—a + corrupt people and a strong mob,” said the other, rather to himself than + to his comrade, and scarce, perhaps, conscious of the eternal truth of his + aphorism. “He is no mere brawler, this Rienzi, I suspect—I must see + to it. Hark! what noise is that? By the Holy Sepulchre, it is the ring of + our own metal!” + </p> + <p> + “And that cry—‘a Colonna!’” exclaimed Rodolf. “Pardon me, master,—I + must away to the rescue!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, it is the duty of thy hire; run;—yet stay, I will accompany + thee, gratis for once, and from pure passion for mischief. By this hand, + there is no music like clashing steel!” + </p> + <p> + Still Adrian continued gallantly and unwounded to defend himself, though + his arm now grew tired, his breath well-nigh spent, and his eyes began to + wink and reel beneath the glare of the tossing torches. Orsini himself, + exhausted by his fury, had paused for an instant, fronting his foe with a + heaving breast and savage looks, when, suddenly, his followers exclaimed, + “Fly! fly!—the bandits approach—we are surrounded!”—and + two of the servitors, without further parley, took fairly to their heels. + The other five remained irresolute, and waiting but the command of their + master, when he of the white plume, whom I have just described, thrust + himself into the melee. + </p> + <p> + “What! gentles,” said he, “have ye finished already? Nay, let us not mar + the sport; begin again, I beseech you. What are the odds? Ho! six to one!—nay, + no wonder that ye have waited for fairer play. See, we two will take the + weaker side. Now then, let us begin again.” + </p> + <p> + “Insolent!” cried the Orsini. “Knowest thou him whom thou addressest thus + arrogantly?—I am Martino di Porto. Who art thou?” + </p> + <p> + “Walter de Montreal, gentleman of Provence, and Knight of St. John!” + answered the other, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + At that redoubted name—the name of one of the boldest warriors, and + of the most accomplished freebooter of his time—even Martino’s cheek + grew pale, and his followers uttered a cry of terror. + </p> + <p> + “And this, my comrade,” continued the Knight, “for we may as well complete + the introduction, is probably better known to you than I am, gentles of + Rome; and you doubtless recognize in him Rodolf of Saxony, a brave man and + a true, where he is properly paid for his services.” + </p> + <p> + “Signor,” said Adrian to his enemy, who, aghast and dumb, remained staring + vacantly at the two new-comers, “you are now in my power. See, our own + people, too, are approaching.” + </p> + <p> + And, indeed, from the palace of Stephen Colonna, torches began to blaze, + and armed men were seen rapidly advancing to the spot. + </p> + <p> + “Go home in peace, and if, tomorrow, or any day more suitable to thee, + thou wilt meet me alone, and lance to lance, as is the wont of the knights + of the empire; or with band to band, and man for man, as is rather the + Roman custom; I will not fail thee—there is my gage.” + </p> + <p> + “Nobly spoken,” said Montreal; “and, if ye choose the latter, by your + leave, I will be one of the party.” + </p> + <p> + Martino answered not; he took up the glove, thrust it in his bosom, and + strode hastily away; only, when he had got some paces down the street, he + turned back, and, shaking his clenched hand at Adrian, exclaimed, in a + voice trembling with impotent rage—“Faithful to death!” + </p> + <p> + The words made one of the mottoes of the Orsini; and, whatever its earlier + signification, had long passed into a current proverb, to signify their + hatred to the Colonna. + </p> + <p> + Adrian, now engaged in raising, and attempting to revive Irene, who was + still insensible, disdainfully left it to Montreal to reply. + </p> + <p> + “I doubt not, Signor,” said the latter, coolly, “that thou wilt be + faithful to Death: for Death, God wot, is the only contract which men, + however ingenious, are unable to break or evade.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, gentle Knight,” said Adrian, looking up from his charge, “if I + do not yet give myself wholly to gratitude. I have learned enough of + knighthood to feel thou wilt acknowledge that my first duty is here—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, a lady, then, was the cause of the quarrel! I need not ask who was in + the right, when a man brings to the rivalry such odds as yon caitiff.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou mistakest a little, Sir Knight,—it is but a lamb I have + rescued from the wolf.” + </p> + <p> + “For thy own table! Be it so!” returned the Knight, gaily. + </p> + <p> + Adrian smiled gravely, and shook his head in denial. In truth, he was + somewhat embarrassed by his situation. Though habitually gallant, he was + not willing to expose to misconstruction the disinterestedness of his late + conduct, and (for it was his policy to conciliate popularity) to sully the + credit which his bravery would give him among the citizens, by conveying + Irene (whose beauty, too, as yet, he had scarcely noted) to his own + dwelling; and yet, in her present situation, there was no alternative. She + evinced no sign of life. He knew not her home, nor parentage. Benedetta + had vanished. He could not leave her in the streets; he could not resign + her to the care of another; and, as she lay now upon his breast, he felt + her already endeared to him, by that sense of protection which is so + grateful to the human heart. He briefly, therefore, explained to those now + gathered round him, his present situation, and the cause of the past + conflict; and bade the torch-bearers precede him to his home. + </p> + <p> + “You, Sir Knight,” added he, turning to Montreal, “if not already more + pleasantly lodged, will, I trust, deign to be my guest?” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks, Signor,” answered Montreal, maliciously, “but I, also, perhaps, + have my own affairs to watch over. Adieu! I shall seek you at the earliest + occasion. Fair night, and gentle dreams! + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + ‘Robers Bertrams qui estoit tors Mais a ceval estoit mult fors + Cil avoit o lui grans effors Multi ot ‘homes per lui mors.’” + + (“An ill-favoured man, but a stout horseman, was Robert + Bertram. Great deeds were his, and many a man died by his + hand.”) +</pre> + <p> + And, muttering this rugged chant from the old “Roman de Rou,” the + Provencal, followed by Rodolf, pursued his way. + </p> + <p> + The vast extent of Rome, and the thinness of its population, left many of + the streets utterly deserted. The principal nobles were thus enabled to + possess themselves of a wide range of buildings, which they fortified, + partly against each other, partly against the people; their numerous + relatives and clients lived around them, forming, as it were, petty courts + and cities in themselves. + </p> + <p> + Almost opposite to the principal palace of the Colonna (occupied by his + powerful kinsman, Stephen) was the mansion of Adrian. Heavily swung back + the massive gates at his approach; he ascended the broad staircase, and + bore his charge into an apartment which his tastes had decorated in a + fashion not as yet common in that age. Ancient statues and busts were + arranged around; the pictured arras of Lombardy decorated the walls, and + covered the massive seats. + </p> + <p> + “What ho! Lights here, and wine!” cried the Seneschal. + </p> + <p> + “Leave us alone,” said Adrian, gazing passionately on the pale cheek of + Irene, as he now, by the clear light, beheld all its beauty; and a sweet + yet burning hope crept into his heart. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.V. The Description of a Conspirator, and the Dawn of the + </h2> + <p> + Conspiracy. + </p> + <p> + Alone, by a table covered with various papers, sat a man in the prime of + life. The chamber was low and long; many antique and disfigured + bas-reliefs and torsos were placed around the wall, interspersed, here and + there, with the short sword and close casque, time-worn relics of the + prowess of ancient Rome. Right above the table at which he sate, the + moonlight streamed through a high and narrow casement, deep sunk in the + massy wall. In a niche to the right of this window, guarded by a sliding + door, which was now partially drawn aside—but which, by its solid + substance, and the sheet of iron with which it was plated, testified how + valuable, in the eyes of the owner, was the treasure it protected—were + ranged some thirty or forty volumes, then deemed no inconsiderable + library; and being, for the most part, the laborious copies in manuscript + by the hand of the owner, from immortal originals. + </p> + <p> + Leaning his cheek on his hand, his brow somewhat knit, his lip slightly + compressed, that personage, indulged in meditations far other than the + indolent dreams of scholars. As the high and still moonlight shone upon + his countenance, it gave an additional and solemn dignity to features + which were naturally of a grave and majestic cast. Thick and auburn hair, + the colour of which, not common to the Romans, was ascribed to his descent + from the Teuton emperor, clustered in large curls above a high and + expansive forehead; and even the present thoughtful compression of the + brow could not mar the aspect of latent power, which it derived from that + great breadth between the eyes, in which the Grecian sculptors of old so + admirably conveyed the expression of authority, and the silent energy of + command. But his features were not cast in the Grecian, still less in the + Teuton mould. The iron jaw, the aquiline nose, the somewhat sunken cheek, + strikingly recalled the character of the hard Roman race, and might not + inaptly have suggested to a painter a model for the younger Brutus. + </p> + <p> + The marked outline of the face, and the short, firm upper lip, were not + concealed by the beard and mustachios usually then worn; and, in the faded + portrait of the person now described, still extant at Rome, may be traced + a certain resemblance to the popular pictures of Napoleon; not indeed in + the features, which are more stern and prominent in the portrait of the + Roman, but in that peculiar expression of concentrated and tranquil power + which so nearly realizes the ideal of intellectual majesty. Though still + young, the personal advantages most peculiar to youth,—the bloom and + glow, the rounded cheek in which care has not yet ploughed its lines, the + full unsunken eye, and the slender delicacy of frame,—these were not + the characteristics of that solitary student. And, though considered by + his contemporaries as eminently handsome, the judgment was probably formed + less from the more vulgar claims to such distinction, than from the height + of the stature, an advantage at that time more esteemed than at present, + and that nobler order of beauty which cultivated genius and commanding + character usually stamp upon even homely features;—the more rare in + an age so rugged. + </p> + <p> + The character of Rienzi (for the youth presented to the reader in the + first chapter of this history is now again before him in maturer years) + had acquired greater hardness and energy with each stepping-stone to + power. There was a circumstance attendant on his birth which had, + probably, exercised great and early influence on his ambition. Though his + parents were in humble circumstances, and of lowly calling, his father was + the natural son of the Emperor, Henry VII.; (De Sade supposes that the + mother of Rienzi was the daughter of an illegitimate son of Henry VII., + supporting his opinion from a MS. in the Vatican. But, according to the + contemporaneous biographer, Rienzi, in addressing Charles, king of Bohemia + claims the relationship from his father “Di vostro legnaggio sono—figlio + di bastardo d’Enrico imperatore,” &c. A more recent writer, il Padre + Gabrini, cites an inscription in support of this descent: “Nicolaus + Tribunus...Laurentii Teutonici Filius,” &c.) and it was the pride of + the parents that probably gave to Rienzi the unwonted advantages of + education. This pride transmitted to himself,—his descent from + royalty dinned into his ear, infused into his thoughts, from his cradle,—made + him, even in his earliest youth, deem himself the equal of the Roman + signors, and half unconsciously aspire to be their superior. But, as the + literature of Rome was unfolded to his eager eye and ambitious heart, he + became imbued with that pride of country which is nobler than the pride of + birth; and, save when stung by allusions to his origin, he unaffectedly + valued himself more on being a Roman plebeian than the descendant of a + Teuton king. His brother’s death, and the vicissitudes he himself had + already undergone, deepened the earnest and solemn qualities of his + character; and, at length, all the faculties of a very uncommon intellect + were concentrated into one object—which borrowed from a mind + strongly and mystically religious, as well as patriotic, a sacred aspect, + and grew at once a duty and a passion. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Rienzi, breaking suddenly from his revery, “yes, the day is at + hand when Rome shall rise again from her ashes; Justice shall dethrone + Oppression; men shall walk safe in their ancient Forum. We will rouse from + his forgotten tomb the indomitable soul of Cato! There shall be a people + once more in Rome! And I—I shall be the instrument of that triumph—the + restorer of my race! mine shall be the first voice to swell the battle-cry + of freedom—mine the first hand to rear her banner—yes, from + the height of my own soul as from a mountain, I see already rising the + liberties and the grandeur of the New Rome; and on the corner-stone of the + mighty fabric posterity shall read my name.” + </p> + <p> + Uttering these lofty boasts, the whole person of the speaker seemed + instinct with his ambition. He strode the gloomy chamber with light and + rapid steps, as if on air; his breast heaved, his eyes glowed. He felt + that love itself can scarcely bestow a rapture equal to that which is + felt, in his first virgin enthusiasm, by a patriot who knows himself + sincere! + </p> + <p> + There was a slight knock at the door, and a servitor, in the rich liveries + worn by the pope’s officials, (Not the present hideous habiliments, which + are said to have been the invention of Michael Angelo.) presented himself. + </p> + <p> + “Signor,” said he, “my Lord, the Bishop of Orvietto, is without.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! that is fortunate. Lights there!—My Lord, this is an honour + which I can estimate better than express.” + </p> + <p> + “Tut, tut! my good friend,” said the Bishop, entering, and seating himself + familiarly, “no ceremonies between the servants of the Church; and never, + I ween well, had she greater need of true friends than now. These unholy + tumults, these licentious contentions, in the very shrines and city of St. + Peter, are sufficient to scandalize all Christendom.” + </p> + <p> + “And so will it be,” said Rienzi, “until his Holiness himself shall be + graciously persuaded to fix his residence in the seat of his predecessors, + and curb with a strong arm the excesses of the nobles.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, man!” said the Bishop, “thou knowest that these words are but as + wind; for were the Pope to fulfil thy wishes, and remove from Avignon to + Rome, by the blood of St. Peter! he would not curb the nobles, but the + nobles would curb him. Thou knowest well that until his blessed + predecessor, of pious memory, conceived the wise design of escaping to + Avignon, the Father of the Christian world was but like many other fathers + in their old age, controlled and guarded by his rebellious children. + Recollectest thou not how the noble Boniface himself, a man of great + heart, and nerves of iron, was kept in thraldom by the ancestors of the + Orsini—his entrances and exits made but at their will—so that, + like a caged eagle, he beat himself against his bars and died? Verily, + thou talkest of the memories of Rome—these are not the memories that + are very attractive to popes.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Rienzi, laughing gently, and drawing his seat nearer to the + Bishop’s, “my Lord has certainly the best of the argument at present; and + I must own, that strong, licentious, and unhallowed as the order of + nobility was then, it is yet more so now.” + </p> + <p> + “Even I,” rejoined Raimond, colouring as he spoke, “though Vicar of the + Pope, and representative of his spiritual authority, was, but three days + ago, subjected to a coarse affront from that very Stephen Colonna, who has + ever received such favour and tenderness from the Holy See. His servitors + jostled mine in the open streets, and I myself,—I, the delegate of + the sire of kings—was forced to draw aside to the wall, and wait + until the hoary insolent swept by. Nor were blaspheming words wanting to + complete the insult. ‘Pardon, Lord Bishop,’ said he, as he passed me; ‘but + this world, thou knowest, must necessarily take precedence of the other.’” + </p> + <p> + “Dared he so high?” said Rienzi, shading his face with his hand, as a very + peculiar smile—scarcely itself joyous, though it made others gay, + and which completely changed the character of his face, naturally grave + even to sternness—played round his lips. “Then it is time for thee, + holy father, as for us, to—” + </p> + <p> + “To what?” interrupted the Bishop, quickly. “Can we effect aught! Dismiss + thy enthusiastic dreamings—descend to the real earth—look + soberly round us. Against men so powerful, what can we do?” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord,” answered Rienzi, gravely, “it is the misfortune of signors of + your rank never to know the people, or the accurate signs of the time. As + those who pass over the heights of mountains see the clouds sweep below, + veiling the plains and valleys from their gaze, while they, only a little + above the level, survey the movements and the homes of men; even so from + your lofty eminence ye behold but the indistinct and sullen vapours—while + from my humbler station I see the preparations of the shepherds, to + shelter themselves and herds from the storm which those clouds betoken. + Despair not, my Lord; endurance goes but to a certain limit—to that + limit it is already stretched; Rome waits but the occasion (it will soon + come, but not suddenly) to rise simultaneously against her oppressors.” + </p> + <p> + The great secret of eloquence is to be in earnest—the great secret + of Rienzi’s eloquence was in the mightiness of his enthusiasm. He never + spoke as one who doubted of success. Perhaps, like most men who undertake + high and great actions, he himself was never thoroughly aware of the + obstacles in his way. He saw the end, bright and clear, and overleaped, in + the vision of his soul, the crosses and the length of the path; thus the + deep convictions of his own mind stamped themselves irresistibly upon + others. He seemed less to promise than to prophesy. + </p> + <p> + The Bishop of Orvietto, not over wise, yet a man of cool temperament and + much worldly experience, was forcibly impressed by the energy of his + companion; perhaps, indeed, the more so, inasmuch as his own pride and his + own passions were also enlisted against the arrogance and licence of the + nobles. He paused ere he replied to Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + “But is it,” he asked, at length, “only the plebeians who will rise? Thou + knowest how they are caitiff and uncertain.” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord,” answered Rienzi, “judge, by one fact, how strongly I am + surrounded by friends of no common class: thou knowest how loudly I speak + against the nobles—I cite them by their name—I beard the + Savelli, the Orsini, the Colonna, in their very hearing. Thinkest thou + that they forgive me? thinkest thou that, were only the plebeians my + safeguard and my favourers, they would not seize me by open force,—that + I had not long ere this found a gag in their dungeons, or been swallowed + up in the eternal dumbness of the grave? Observe,” continued he, as, + reading the Vicar’s countenance, he perceived the impression he had made—“observe, + that, throughout the whole world, a great revolution has begun. The + barbaric darkness of centuries has been broken; the Knowledge which made + men as demigods in the past time has been called from her urn; a Power, + subtler than brute force, and mightier than armed men, is at work; we have + begun once more to do homage to the Royalty of Mind. Yes, that same Power + which, a few years ago, crowned Petrarch in the Capitol, when it + witnessed, after the silence of twelve centuries, the glories of a + Triumph,—which heaped upon a man of obscure birth, and unknown in + arms, the same honours given of old to emperors and the vanquishers of + kings,—which united in one act of homage even the rival houses of + Colonna and Orsini,—which made the haughtiest patricians emulous to + bear the train, to touch but the purple robe, of the son of the Florentine + plebeian,—which still draws the eyes of Europe to the lowly cottage + of Vaucluse,—which gives to the humble student the all-acknowledged + licence to admonish tyrants, and approach, with haughty prayers, even the + Father of the Church;—yes, that same Power, which, working silently + throughout Italy, murmurs under the solid base of the Venetian oligarchy; + (It was about eight years afterwards that the long-smothered hate of the + Venetian people to that wisest and most vigilant of all oligarchies, the + Sparta of Italy, broke out in the conspiracy under Marino Faliero.) which, + beyond the Alps, has wakened into visible and sudden life in Spain, in + Germany, in Flanders; and which, even in that barbarous Isle, conquered by + the Norman sword, ruled by the bravest of living kings, (Edward III., in + whose reign opinions far more popular than those of the following century + began to work. The Civil Wars threw back the action into the blood. It was + indeed an age throughout the world which put forth abundant blossoms, but + crude and unripened fruit;—a singular leap, followed by as singular + a pause.) has roused a spirit Norman cannot break—kings to rule over + must rule by—yes, that same Power is everywhere abroad: it speaks, + it conquers in the voice even of him who is before you; it unites in his + cause all on whom but one glimmering of light has burst, all in whom one + generous desire can be kindled! Know, Lord Vicar, that there is not a man + in Rome, save our oppressors themselves—not a man who has learned + one syllable of our ancient tongue—whose heart and sword are not + with me. The peaceful cultivators of letters—the proud nobles of the + second order—the rising race, wiser than their slothful sires; above + all, my Lord, the humbler ministers of religion, priests and monks, whom + luxury hath not blinded, pomp hath not deafened, to the monstrous outrage + to Christianity daily and nightly perpetrated in the Christian Capital; + these,—all these,—are linked with the merchant and the artisan + in one indissoluble bond, waiting but the signal to fall or to conquer, to + live freemen, or to die martyrs, with Rienzi and their country!” + </p> + <p> + “Sayest thou so in truth?” said the Bishop, startled, and half rising. + “Prove but thy words, and thou shalt not find the ministers of God are + less eager than their lay brethren for the happiness of men.” + </p> + <p> + “What I say,” rejoined Rienzi, in a cooler tone, “that can I show; but I + may only prove it to those who will be with us.” + </p> + <p> + “Fear me not,” answered Raimond: “I know well the secret mind of his + Holiness, whose delegate and representative I am; and could he see but the + legitimate and natural limit set to the power of the patricians, who, in + their arrogance, have set at nought the authority of the Church itself, be + sure that he would smile on the hand that drew the line. Nay, so certain + of this am I, that if ye succeed, I, his responsible but unworthy vicar, + will myself sanction the success. But beware of crude attempts; the Church + must not be weakened by linking itself to failure.” + </p> + <p> + “Right, my Lord,” answered Rienzi; “and in this, the policy of religion is + that of freedom. Judge of my prudence by my long delay. He who can see all + around him impatient—himself not less so—and yet suppress the + signal, and bide the hour, is not likely to lose his cause by rashness.” + </p> + <p> + “More, then, of this anon,” said the Bishop, resettling himself in his + seat. “As thy plans mature, fear not to communicate with me. Believe that + Rome has no firmer friend then he who, ordained to preserve order, finds + himself impotent against aggression. Meanwhile, to the object of my + present visit, which links itself, in some measure, perhaps, with the + topics on which we have conversed...Thou knowest that when his Holiness + intrusted thee with thy present office, he bade thee also announce his + beneficent intention of granting a general Jubilee at Rome for the year + 1350—a most admirable design for two reasons, sufficiently apparent + to thyself: first, that every Christian soul that may undertake the + pilgrimage to Rome on that occasion, may thus obtain a general remission + of sins; and secondly, because, to speak carnally, the concourse of + pilgrims so assembled, usually, by the donations and offerings their piety + suggests, very materially add to the revenues of the Holy See: at this + time, by the way, in no very flourishing condition. This thou knowest, + dear Rienzi.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi bowed his head in assent, and the prelate continued— + </p> + <p> + “Well, it is with the greatest grief that his Holiness perceives that his + pious intentions are likely to be frustrated: for so fierce and numerous + are now the brigands in the public approaches to Rome, that, verily, the + boldest pilgrim may tremble a little to undertake the journey; and those + who do so venture will, probably, be composed of the poorest of the + Christian community,—men who, bringing with them neither gold, nor + silver, nor precious offerings, will have little to fear from the rapacity + of the brigands. Hence arise two consequences: on the one hand, the rich—whom, + Heaven knows, and the Gospel has, indeed, expressly declared, have the + most need of a remission of sins—will be deprived of this glorious + occasion for absolution; and, on the other hand, the coffers of the Church + will be impiously defrauded of that wealth which it would otherwise + doubtless obtain from the zeal of her children.” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing can be more logically manifest, my Lord,” said Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + The Vicar continued—“Now, in letters received five days since from + his Holiness, he bade me expose these fearful consequences to Christianity + to the various patricians who are legitimately fiefs of the Church, and + command their resolute combination against the marauders of the road. With + these have I conferred, and vainly.” + </p> + <p> + “For by the aid, and from the troops, of those very brigands, these + patricians have fortified their palaces against each other,” added Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + “Exactly for that reason,” rejoined the Bishop. “Nay, Stephen Colonna + himself had the audacity to confess it. Utterly unmoved by the loss to so + many precious souls, and, I may add, to the papal treasury, which ought to + be little less dear to right-discerning men, they refuse to advance a step + against the bandits. Now, then, hearken the second mandate of his + Holiness:—‘Failing the nobles,’ saith he, in his prophetic sagacity, + ‘confer with Cola di Rienzi. He is a bold man, and a pious, and, thou + tellest me, of great weight with the people; and say to him, that if his + wit can devise the method for extirpating these sons of Belial, and + rendering a safe passage along the public ways, largely, indeed, will he + merit at our hands,—lasting will be the gratitude we shall owe to + him; and whatever succour thou, and the servants of our See, can render to + him, let it not be stinted.’” + </p> + <p> + “Said his Holiness thus!” exclaimed Rienzi. “I ask no more—the + gratitude is mine that he hath thought thus of his servant, and intrusted + me with this charge; at once I accept it—at once I pledge myself to + success. Let us, my Lord, let us, then, clearly understand the limits + ordained to my discretion. To curb the brigands without the walls, I must + have authority over those within. If I undertake, at peril of my life, to + clear all the avenues to Rome of the robbers who now infest it, shall I + have full licence for conduct bold, peremptory, and severe?” + </p> + <p> + “Such conduct the very nature of the charge demands,” replied Raimond. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,—even though it be exercised against the arch offenders—against + the supporters of the brigands—against the haughtiest of the nobles + themselves?” + </p> + <p> + The Bishop paused, and looked hard in the face of the speaker. “I repeat,” + said he, at length, sinking his voice, and with a significant tone, “in + these bold attempts, success is the sole sanction. Succeed, and we will + excuse thee all—even to the—” + </p> + <p> + “Death of a Colonna or an Orsini, should justice demand it; and provided + it be according to the law, and only incurred by the violation of the + law!” added Rienzi, firmly. + </p> + <p> + The Bishop did not reply in words, but a slight motion of his head was + sufficient answer to Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord,” said he, “from this time, then, all is well; I date the + revolution—the restoration of order, of the state—from this + hour, this very conference. Till now, knowing that justice must never wink + upon great offenders, I had hesitated, through fear lest thou and his + Holiness might deem it severity, and blame him who replaces the law, + because he smites the violaters of law. Now I judge ye more rightly. Your + hand, my Lord.” + </p> + <p> + The Bishop extended his hand; Rienzi grasped it firmly, and then raised it + respectfully to his lips. Both felt that the compact was sealed. + </p> + <p> + This conference, so long in recital, was short in the reality; but its + object was already finished, and the Bishop rose to depart. The outer + portal of the house was opened, the numerous servitors of the Bishop held + on high their torches, and he had just termed from Rienzi, who had + attended him to the gate, when a female passed hastily through the + Prelate’s train, and starting as she beheld Rienzi, flung herself at his + feet. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, hasten, Sir! hasten, for the love of God, hasten! or the young + Signora is lost for ever!” + </p> + <p> + “The Signora!—Heaven and earth, Benedetta, of whom do you speak?—of + my sister—of Irene? is she not within?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Sir—the Orsini—the Orsini!” + </p> + <p> + “What of them?—speak, woman!” + </p> + <p> + Here, breathlessly, and with many a break, Benedetta recounted to Rienzi, + in whom the reader has already recognised the brother of Irene, so far of + the adventure with Martino di Porto as she had witnessed: of the + termination and result of the contest she knew nought. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi listened in silence; but the deadly paleness of his countenance, + and the writhing of the nether lip, testified the emotions to which he + gave no audible vent. + </p> + <p> + “You hear, my Lord Bishop—you hear,” said he, when Benedetta had + concluded; and turning to the Bishop, whose departure the narrative had + delayed—“you hear to what outrage the citizens of Rome are + subjected. My hat and sword! instantly! My Lord, forgive my abruptness.” + </p> + <p> + “Whither art thou bent, then?” asked Raimond. + </p> + <p> + “Whither—whither!—Ay, I forgot, my Lord, you have no sister. + Perhaps too, you had no brother?—No, no; one victim at least I will + live to save. Whither, you ask me?—to the palace of Martino di + Porto.” + </p> + <p> + “To an Orsini alone, and for justice?” + </p> + <p> + “Alone, and for justice!—No!” shouted Rienzi, in a loud voice, as he + seized his sword, now brought to him by one of his servants, and rushed + from the house; “but one man is sufficient for revenge!” + </p> + <p> + The Bishop paused for a moment’s deliberation. “He must not be lost,” + muttered he, “as he well may be, if exposed thus solitary to the wolf’s + rage. What, ho!” he cried aloud; “advance the torches!—quick, quick! + We ourself—we, the Vicar of the Pope—will see to this. Calm + yourselves, good people; your young Signora shall be restored. On! to the + palace of Martino di Porto!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.VI. Irene in the Palace of Adrian di Castello. + </h2> + <p> + As the Cyprian gazed on the image in which he had embodied a youth of + dreams, what time the living hues flushed slowly beneath the marble,—so + gazed the young and passionate Adrian upon the form reclined before him, + re-awakening gradually to life. And, if the beauty of that face were not + of the loftiest or the most dazzling order, if its soft and quiet + character might be outshone by many, of loveliness less really perfect, + yet never was there a countenance that, to some eyes, would have seemed + more charming, and never one in which more eloquently was wrought that + ineffable and virgin expression which Italian art seeks for in its models,—in + which modesty is the outward, and tenderness the latent, expression; the + bloom of youth, both of form and heart, ere the first frail and delicate + freshness of either is brushed away: and when even love itself, the only + unquiet visitant that should be known at such an age, is but a sentiment, + and not a passion! + </p> + <p> + “Benedetta!” murmured Irene, at length opening her eyes, unconsciously, + upon him who knelt beside her,—eyes of that uncertain, that most + liquid hue, on which you might gaze for years and never learn the secret + of the colour, so changed it with the dilating pupil,—darkening in + the shade, and brightening into azure in the light: + </p> + <p> + “Benedetta,” said Irene, “where art thou? Oh, Benedetta! I have had such a + dream.” + </p> + <p> + “And I, too, such a vision!” thought Adrian. + </p> + <p> + “Where am I?” cried Irene, rising from the couch. “This room—these + hangings—Holy Virgin! do I dream still!—and you! Heavens!—it + is the Lord Adrian di Castello!” + </p> + <p> + “Is that a name thou hast been taught to fear?” said Adrian; “if so, I + will forswear it.” + </p> + <p> + If Irene now blushed deeply, it was not in that wild delight with which + her romantic heart motive foretold that she would listen to the first + words of homage from Adrian di Castello. Bewildered and confused,—terrified + at the strangeness of the place and shrinking even from the thought of + finding herself alone with one who for years had been present to her + fancies,—alarm and distress were the emotions she felt the most, and + which most were impressed upon her speaking countenance; and as Adrian now + drew nearer to her, despite the gentleness of his voice and the respect of + his looks, her fears, not the less strong that they were vague, increased + upon her: she retreated to the further end of the room, looked wildly + round her, and then, covering her face with her hands, burst into a + paroxysm of tears. + </p> + <p> + Moved himself by these tears, and divining her thoughts, Adrian forgot for + moment all the more daring wishes he had formed. + </p> + <p> + “Fear not, sweet lady,” said he, earnestly: “recollect thyself, I beseech + thee; no peril, no evil can reach thee here; it was this hand that saved + thee from the outrage of the Orsini—this roof is but the shelter of + a friend! Tell me, then, fair wonder, thy name and residence, and I will + summon my servitors, and guard thee to thy home at once.” + </p> + <p> + Perhaps the relief of tears, even more than Adrian’s words, restored Irene + to herself, and enabled her to comprehend her novel situation; and as her + senses, thus cleared, told her what she owed to him whom her dreams had so + long imaged as the ideal of all excellence, she recovered her + self-possession, and uttered her thanks with a grace not the less winning, + if it still partook of embarrassment. + </p> + <p> + “Thank me not,” answered Adrian, passionately. “I have touched thy hand—I + am repaid. Repaid! nay, all gratitude—all homage is for me to + render!” + </p> + <p> + Blushing again, but with far different emotions than before, Irene, after + a momentary pause, replied, “Yet, my Lord, I must consider it a debt the + more weighty that you speak of it so lightly. And now, complete the + obligation. I do not see my companion—suffer her to accompany me + home; it is but a short way hence.” + </p> + <p> + “Blessed, then, is the air that I have breathed so unconsciously!” said + Adrian. “But thy companion, dear lady, is not here. She fled, I imagine, + in the confusion of the conflict; and not knowing thy name, nor being + able, in thy then state, to learn it from thy lips, it was my happy + necessity to convey thee hither;—but I will be thy companion. Nay, + why that timid glance? my people, also, shall attend us.” + </p> + <p> + “My thanks, noble Lord, are of little worth; my brother, who is not + unknown to thee, will thank thee more fittingly. May I depart?” and Irene, + as she spoke, was already at the door. + </p> + <p> + “Art thou so eager to leave me?” answered Adrian, sadly. “Alas! when thou + hast departed from my eyes, it will seem as if the moon had left the + night!—but it is happiness to obey thy wishes, even though they tear + thee from me.” + </p> + <p> + A slight smile parted Irene’s lips, and Adrian’s heart beat audibly to + himself, as he drew from that smile, and those downcast eyes, no + unfavourable omen. + </p> + <p> + Reluctantly and slowly he turned towards the door, and summoned his + attendants. “But,” said he, as they stood on the lofty staircase, “thou + sayest, sweet lady, that thy brother’s name is not unknown to me. Heaven + grant that he be, indeed, a friend of the Colonna!” + </p> + <p> + “His boast,” answered Irene, evasively; “the boast of Cola di Rienzi is, + to be a friend to the friends of Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “Holy Virgin of Ara Coeli!—is thy brother that extraordinary man?” + exclaimed Adrian, as he foresaw, at the mention of that name, a barrier to + his sudden passion. “Alas! in a Colonna, in a noble, he will see no merit; + even though thy fortunate deliverer, sweet maiden, sought to be his early + friend!” + </p> + <p> + “Thou wrongest him much, my Lord,” returned Irene, warmly; “he is a man + above all others to sympathize with thy generous valour, even had it been + exerted in defence of the humblest woman in Rome,—how much more, + then, when in protection of his sister!” + </p> + <p> + “The times are, indeed, diseased,” answered Adrian, thoughtfully, as they + now found themselves in the open street, “when men who alike mourn for the + woes of their country are yet suspicious of each other; when to be a + patrician is to be regarded as an enemy to the people; when to be termed + the friend of the people is to be considered a foe to the patricians: but + come what may, oh! let me hope, dear lady, that no doubts, no divisions, + shall banish from thy breast one gentle memory of me!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! little, little do you know me!” began Irene, and stopped suddenly + short. + </p> + <p> + “Speak! speak again!—of what music has this envious silence deprived + my soul! Thou wilt not, then, forget me? And,” continued Adrian, “we shall + meet again? It is to Rienzi’s house we are bound now; tomorrow I shall + visit my old companion,—tomorrow I shall see thee. Will it not be + so?” + </p> + <p> + In Irene’s silence was her answer. + </p> + <p> + “And as thou hast told me thy brother’s name, make it sweet to my ear, and + add to it thine own.” + </p> + <p> + “They call me Irene.” + </p> + <p> + “Irene, Irene!—let me repeat it. It is a soft name, and dwells upon + the lips as if loath to leave them—a fitting name for one like + thee.” + </p> + <p> + Thus making his welcome court to Irene, in that flowered and glowing + language which, if more peculiar to that age and to the gallantry of the + south, is also the language in which the poetry of youthful passion would, + in all times and lands, utter its rich extravagance, could heart speak to + heart, Adrian conveyed homeward his beautiful charge, taking, however, the + most circuitous and lengthened route; an artifice which Irene either + perceived not, or silently forgave. They were now within sight of the + street in which Rienzi dwelt, when a party of men bearing torches, came + unexpectedly upon them. It was the train of the Bishop of Orvietto, + returning from the palace of Martino di Porto, and in their way + (accompanied by Rienzi) to that of Adrian. They had learned at the former, + without an interview with the Orsini, from the retainers in the court + below, the fortune of the conflict, and the name of Irene’s champion; and, + despite Adrian’s general reputation for gallantry, Rienzi knew enough of + his character, and the nobleness of his temper, to feel assured that Irene + was safe in his protection. Alas! in that very safety to the person is + often the most danger to the heart. Woman never so dangerously loves, as + when he who loves her, for her sake, subdues himself. + </p> + <p> + Clasped to her brother’s breast, Irene bade him thank her deliverer; and + Rienzi, with that fascinating frankness which sits so well on those + usually reserved, and which all who would rule the hearts of their + fellow-men must at times command, advanced to the young Colonna, and + poured forth his gratitude and praise. + </p> + <p> + “We have been severed too long,—we must know each other again,” + replied Adrian. “I shall seek thee, ere long, be assured.” + </p> + <p> + Turning to take his leave of Irene, he conveyed her hand to his lips, and + pressing it, as it dropped from his clasp, was he deceived in thinking + that those delicate fingers lightly, involuntarily, returned the pressure? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.VII. Upon Love and Lovers. + </h2> + <p> + If, in adopting the legendary love tale of Romeo and Juliet, Shakespeare + had changed the scene in which it is cast for a more northern clime, we + may doubt whether the art of Shakespeare himself could have reconciled us + at once to the suddenness and the strength of Juliet’s passion. And, even + as it is, perhaps there are few of our rational and sober-minded islanders + who would not honestly confess, if fairly questioned, that they deem the + romance and fervour of those ill-starred lovers of Verona exaggerated and + over-drawn. Yet, in Italy, the picture of that affection born of a night—but + “strong as death”—is one to which the veriest commonplaces of life + would afford parallels without number. As in different ages, so in + different climes, love varies wonderfully in the shapes it takes. And even + at this day, beneath Italian skies, many a simple girl would feel as + Juliet, and many a homely gallant would rival the extravagance of Romeo. + Long suits in that sunny land, wherein, as whereof, I now write, are + unknown. In no other land, perhaps, is there found so commonly the love at + first sight, which in France is a jest, and in England a doubt; in no + other land, too, is love, though so suddenly conceived, more faithfully + preserved. That which is ripened in fancy comes at once to passion, yet is + embalmed through all time by sentiment. And this must be my and their + excuse, if the love of Adrian some too prematurely formed, and that of + Irene too romantically conceived;—it is the excuse which they take + from the air and sun, from the customs of their ancestors, from the soft + contagion of example. But while they yielded to the dictates of their + hearts, it was with a certain though secret sadness—a presentiment + that had, perhaps, its charm, though it was of cross and evil. Born of so + proud a race, Adrian could scarcely dream of marriage with the sister of a + plebeian; and Irene, unconscious of the future glory of her brother, could + hardly have cherished any hope, save that of being loved. Yet these + adverse circumstances, which, in the harder, the more prudent, the more + self-denying, perhaps the more virtuous minds, that are formed beneath the + northern skies, would have been an inducement to wrestle against love so + placed, only contributed to feed and to strengthen theirs by an opposition + which has ever its attraction for romance. They found frequent, though + short, opportunities of meeting—not quite alone, but only in the + conniving presence of Benedetta: sometimes in the public gardens, + sometimes amidst the vast and deserted ruins by which the house of Rienzi + was surrounded. They surrendered themselves, without much question of the + future, to the excitement—the elysium—of the hour: they lived + but from day to day; their future was the next time they should meet; + beyond that epoch, the very mists of their youthful love closed in + obscurity and shadow which they sought not to penetrate: and as yet they + had not arrived at that period of affection when there was danger of their + fall,—their love had not passed the golden portal where Heaven + ceases and Earth begins. Everything for them was the poetry, the + vagueness, the refinement,—not the power, the concentration, the + mortality,—of desire! The look—the whisper—the brief + pressure of the hand, at most, the first kisses of love, rare and few,—these + marked the human limits of that sentiment which filled them with a new + life, which elevated them as with a new soul. + </p> + <p> + The roving tendencies of Adrian were at once fixed and centered; the + dreams of his tender mistress had awakened to a life dreaming still, but + “rounded with a truth.” All that earnestness, and energy, and fervour of + emotion, which, in her brother, broke forth in the schemes of patriotism + and the aspirations of power, were, in Irene, softened down into one + object of existence, one concentration of soul,—and that was love. + Yet, in this range of thought and action, so apparently limited, there + was, in reality, no less boundless a sphere than in the wide space of her + brother’s many-pathed ambition. Not the less had she the power and scope + for all the loftiest capacities granted to our clay. Equal was her + enthusiasm for her idol; equal, had she been equally tried, would have + been her generosity, her devotion:—greater, be sure, her courage; + more inalienable her worship; more unsullied by selfish purposes and + sordid views. Time, change, misfortune, ingratitude, would have left her + the same! What state could fall, what liberty decay, if the zeal of man’s + noisy patriotism were as pure as the silent loyalty of a woman’s love? + </p> + <p> + In them everything was young!—the heart unchilled, unblighted,—that + fulness and luxuriance of life’s life which has in it something of divine. + At that age, when it seems as if we could never die, how deathless, how + flushed and mighty as with the youngness of a god, is all that our hearts + create! Our own youth is like that of the earth itself, when it peopled + the woods and waters with divinities; when life ran riot, and yet only + gave birth to beauty;—all its shapes, of poetry,—all its airs, + the melodies of Arcady and Olympus! The Golden Age never leaves the world: + it exists still, and shall exist, till love, health, poetry, are no more; + but only for the young! + </p> + <p> + If I now dwell, though but for a moment, on this interlude in a drama + calling forth more masculine passions than that of love, it is because I + foresee that the occasion will but rarely recur. If I linger on the + description of Irene and her hidden affection, rather than wait for + circumstances to portray them better than the author’s words can, it is + because I foresee that that loving and lovely image must continue to the + last rather a shadow than a portrait,—thrown in the background, as + is the real destiny of such natures, by bolder figures and more gorgeous + colours; a something whose presence is rather felt than seen, and whose + very harmony with the whole consists in its retiring and subdued repose. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.VIII. The Enthusiastic Man Judged by the Discreet Man. + </h2> + <p> + “Thou wrongest me,” said Rienzi, warmly, to Adrian, as they sat alone, + towards the close of a long conference; “I do not play the part of a mere + demagogue; I wish not to stir the great deeps in order that my lees of + fortune may rise to the surface. So long have I brooded over the past, + that it seems to me as if I had become a part of it—as if I had no + separate existence. I have coined my whole soul into one master passion,—and + its end is the restoration of Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “But by what means?” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord! my Lord! there is but one way to restore the greatness of a + people—it is an appeal to the people themselves. It is not in the + power of princes and barons to make a state permanently glorious; they + raise themselves, but they raise not the people with them. All great + regenerations are the universal movement of the mass.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” answered Adrian, “then have we read history differently. To me, all + great regenerations seem to have been the work of the few, and tacitly + accepted by the multitude. But let us not dispute after the manner of the + schools. Thou sayest loudly that a vast crisis is at hand; that the Good + Estate (buono stato) shall be established. How? where are your arms?—your + soldiers? Are the nobles less strong than heretofore? Is the mob more + bold, more constant? Heaven knows that I speak not with the prejudices of + my order—I weep for the debasement of my country! I am a Roman, and + in that name I forget that I am a noble. But I tremble at the storm you + would raise so hazardously. If your insurrection succeed, it will be + violent: it will be purchased by blood—by the blood of all the + loftiest names of Rome. You will aim at a second expulsion of the + Tarquins; but it will be more like a second proscription of Sylla. + Massacres and disorders never pave the way to peace. If, on the other + hand, you fail, the chains of Rome are riveted for ever: an ineffectual + struggle to escape is but an excuse for additional tortures to the slave.” + </p> + <p> + “And what, then, would the Lord Adrian have us do?” said Rienzi, with that + peculiar and sarcastic smile which has before been noted. “Shall we wait + till the Colonna and Orsini quarrel no more? shall we ask the Colonna for + liberty, and the Orsini for justice? My Lord, we cannot appeal to the + nobles against the nobles. We must not ask them to moderate their power; + we must restore to ourselves that power. There may be danger in the + attempt—but we attempt it amongst the monuments of the Forum: and if + we fall—we shall perish worthy of our sires! Ye have high descent, + and sounding titles, and wide lands, and you talk of your ancestral + honours! We, too,—we plebeians of Rome,—we have ours! Our + fathers were freemen! where is our heritage? not sold—not given + away: but stolen from us, now by fraud, now by force—filched from us + in our sleep; or wrung from us with fierce hands, amidst our cries and + struggles. My Lord, we but ask that lawful heritage to be restored to us: + to us—nay, to you it is the same; your liberty, alike, is gone. Can + you dwell in your father’s house, without towers, and fortresses, and the + bought swords of bravos? can you walk in the streets at dark without arms + and followers? True, you, a noble, may retaliate; though we dare not. You, + in your turn, may terrify and outrage others; but does licence compensate + for liberty? They have given you pomp and power—but the safety of + equal laws were a better gift. Oh, were I you—were I Stephen Colonna + himself, I should pant, ay, thirstily as I do now, for that free air which + comes not through bars and bulwarks against my fellow-citizens, but in the + open space of Heaven—safe, because protected by the silent + Providence of Law, and not by the lean fears and hollow-eyed suspicions + which are the comrades of a hated power. The tyrant thinks he is free, + because he commands slaves: the meanest peasant in a free state is more + free than he is. Oh, my Lord, that you—the brave, the generous, the + enlightened—you, almost alone amidst your order, in the knowledge + that we had a country—oh, would that you who can sympathise with our + sufferings, would strike with us for their redress!” + </p> + <p> + “Thou wilt war against Stephen Colonna, my kinsman; and though I have seen + him but little, nor, truth to say, esteem him much, yet he is the boast of + our house,—how can I join thee?” + </p> + <p> + “His life will be safe, his possessions safe, his rank safe. What do we + war against? His power to do wrong to others.” + </p> + <p> + “Should he discover that thou hast force beyond words, he would be less + merciful to thee.” + </p> + <p> + “And has he not discovered that? Do not the shouts of the people tell him + that I am a man whom he should fear? Does he—the cautious, the wily, + the profound—does he build fortresses, and erect towers, and not see + from his battlements the mighty fabric that I, too, have erected?” + </p> + <p> + “You! where, Rienzi?” + </p> + <p> + “In the hearts of Rome! Does he not see?” continued Rienzi. “No, no; he—all, + all his tribe, are blind. Is it not so?” + </p> + <p> + “Of a certainty, my kinsman has no belief in your power, else he would + have crushed you long ere this. Nay, it was but three days ago that he + said, gravely, he would rather you addressed the populace than the best + priest in Christendom; for that other orators inflamed the crowd, and no + man so stilled and dispersed them as you did.” + </p> + <p> + “And I called him profound! Does not Heaven hush the air most when most it + prepares the storm? Ay, my Lord, I understand. Stephen Colonna despises + me. I have been”—(here, as he continued, a deep blush mantled over + his cheek)—“you remember it—at his palace in my younger days, + and pleased him with witty tales and light apophthegms. Nay—ha! ha!—he + would call me, I think, sometimes, in gay compliment, his jester—his + buffoon! I have brooked his insult; I have even bowed to his applause. I + would undergo the same penance, stoop to the same shame, for the same + motive, and in the same cause. What did I desire to effect? Can you tell + me? No! I will whisper it, then, to you: it was—the contempt of + Stephen Colonna. Under that contempt I was protected, till protection + became no longer necessary. I desired not to be thought formidable by the + patricians, in order that, quietly and unsuspected, I might make my way + amongst the people. I have done so; I now throw aside the mask. Face to + face with Stephen Colonna, I could tell him, this very hour, that I brave + his anger; that I laugh at his dungeons and armed men. But if he think me + the same Rienzi as of old, let him; I can wait my hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” said Adrian, waiving an answer to the haughty language of his + companion, “tell me, what dost thou ask for the people, in order to avoid + an appeal to their passions?—ignorant and capricious as they are, + thou canst not appeal to their reason.” + </p> + <p> + “I ask full justice and safety for all men. I will be contented with no + less a compromise. I ask the nobles to dismantle their fortresses; to + disband their armed retainers; to acknowledge no impunity for crime in + high lineage; to claim no protection save in the courts of the common + law.” + </p> + <p> + “Vain desire!” said Adrian. “Ask what may yet be granted.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha—ha!” replied Rienzi, laughing bitterly, “did I not tell you it + was a vain dream to ask for law and justice at the hands of the great? Can + you blame me, then, that I ask it elsewhere?” Then, suddenly changing his + tone and manner, he added with great solemnity—“Waking life hath + false and vain dreams; but sleep is sometimes a mighty prophet. By sleep + it is that Heaven mysteriously communes with its creatures, and guides and + sustains its earthly agents in the path to which its providence leads them + on.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian made no reply. This was not the first time he had noted that + Rienzi’s strong intellect was strangely conjoined with a deep and mystical + superstition. And this yet more inclined the young noble, who, though + sufficiently devout, yielded but little to the wilder credulities of the + time, to doubt the success of the schemer’s projects. In this he erred + greatly, though his error was that of the worldly wise. For nothing ever + so inspires human daring, as the fond belief that it is the agent of a + Diviner Wisdom. Revenge and patriotism, united in one man of genius and + ambition—such are the Archimedian levers that find, in FANATICISM, + the spot out of the world by which to move the world. The prudent man may + direct a state; but it is the enthusiast who regenerates it,—or + ruins. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.IX. “When the People Saw this Picture, Every One Marvelled.” + </h2> + <p> + Before the market-place, and at the foot of the Capitol, an immense crowd + was assembled. Each man sought to push before his neighbour; each + struggled to gain access to one particular spot, round which the crowd was + wedged think and dense. + </p> + <p> + “Corpo di Dio!” said a man of huge stature, pressing onward, like some + bulky ship, casting the noisy waves right and left from its prow, “this is + hot work; but for what, in the holy Mother’s name, do ye crowd so? See you + not, Sir Ribald, that my right arm is disabled, swathed, and bandaged, so + that I cannot help myself better than a baby? And yet you push against me + as if I were an old wall!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Cecco del Vecchio!—what, man! we must make way for you—you + are too small and tender to bustle through a crowd! Come, I will protect + you!” said a dwarf of some four feet high, glancing up at the giant. + </p> + <p> + “Faith,” said the grim smith, looking round on the mob, who laughed loud + at the dwarf’s proffer, “we all do want protection, big and small. What do + you laugh for, ye apes?—ay, you don’t understand parables.” + </p> + <p> + “And yet it is a parable we are come to gaze upon,” said one of the mob, + with a slight sneer. + </p> + <p> + “Pleasant day to you, Signor Baroncelli,” answered Cecco del Vecchio; “you + are a good man, and love the people; it makes one’s heart smile to see + you. What’s all this pother for?” + </p> + <p> + “Why the Pope’s Notary hath set up a great picture in the marketplace, and + the gapers say it relates to Rome; so they are melting their brains out, + this hot day, to guess at the riddle.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho! ho!” said the smith, pushing on so vigorously that he left the + speaker suddenly in the rear; “if Cola di Rienzi hath aught in the matter, + I would break through stone rocks to get to it.” + </p> + <p> + “Much good will a dead daub do us,” said Baroncelli, sourly, and turning + to his neighbours; but no man listened to him, and he, a would-be + demagogue, gnawed his lip in envy. + </p> + <p> + Amidst half-awed groans and curses from the men whom he jostled aside, and + open objurgations and shrill cries from the women, to whose robes and + headgear he showed as little respect, the sturdy smith won his way to a + space fenced round by chains, in the centre of which was placed a huge + picture. + </p> + <p> + “How came it hither?” cried one; “I was first at the market.” + </p> + <p> + “We found it here at daybreak,” said a vender of fruit: “no one was by.” + </p> + <p> + “But why do you fancy Rienzi had a hand in it?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, who else could?” answered twenty voices. + </p> + <p> + “True! Who else?” echoed the gaunt smith. “I dare be sworn the good man + spent the whole night in painting it himself. Blood of St. Peter! but it + is mighty fine! What is it about?” + </p> + <p> + “That’s the riddle,” said a meditative fish-woman; “if I could make it + out, I should die happy.” + </p> + <p> + “It is something about liberty and taxes, no doubt,” said Luigi, the + butcher, leaning over the chains. “Ah, if Rienzi were minded, every poor + man would have his bit of meat in his pot.” + </p> + <p> + “And as much bread as he could eat,” added a pale baker. + </p> + <p> + “Chut! bread and meat—everybody has that now!—but what wine + the poor folks drink! One has no encouragement to take pains with one’s + vineyard,” said a vine-dresser. + </p> + <p> + “Ho, hollo!—long life to Pandulfo di Guido! Make way for master + Pandulfo; he is a learned man; he is a friend of the great Notary’s; he + will tell us all about the picture; make way, there—make way!” + </p> + <p> + Slowly and modestly, Pandulfo di Guido, a quiet, wealthy, and honest man + of letters, whom nought save the violence of the times could have roused + from his tranquil home, or his studious closet, passed to the chains. He + looked long and hard at the picture, which was bright with new, and yet + moist colours, and exhibited somewhat of the reviving art, which, though + hard and harsh in its features, was about that time visible, and, carried + to a far higher degree, we yet gaze upon in the paintings of Perugino, who + flourished during the succeeding generation. The people pressed round the + learned man, with open mouths; now turning their eyes to the picture, now + to Pandulfo. + </p> + <p> + “Know you not,” at length said Pandulfo, “the easy and palpable meaning of + this design? Behold how the painter has presented to you a vast and stormy + sea—mark how its waves—” + </p> + <p> + “Speak louder—louder!” shouted the impatient crowd. + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” cried those in the immediate vicinity of Pandulfo, “the worthy + Signor is perfectly audible!” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, some of the more witty, pushing towards a stall in the + marketplace, bore from it a rough table, from which they besought Pandulfo + to address the people. The pale citizen, with some pain and shame, for he + was no practised spokesman, was obliged to assent; but when he cast his + eyes over the vast and breathless crowd, his own deep sympathy with their + cause inspired and emboldened him. A light broke from his eyes; his voice + swelled into power; and his head, usually buried in his breast, became + erect and commanding in its air. + </p> + <p> + “You see before you in the picture” (he began again) “a mighty and + tempestuous sea: upon its waves you behold five ships; four of them are + already wrecks,—their masts are broken, the waves are dashing + through the rent planks, they are past all aid and hope: on each of these + ships lies the corpse of a woman. See you not, in the wan face and livid + limbs, how faithfully the limner hath painted the hues and loathsomeness + of death? Below each of these ships is a word that applies the metaphor to + truth. Yonder, you see the name of Carthage; the other three are Troy, + Jerusalem, and Babylon. To these four is one common inscription. ‘To + exhaustion were we brought by injustice!’ Turn now your eyes to the middle + of the sea,—there you behold the fifth ship, tossed amidst the + waves, her mast broken, her rudder gone, her sails shivered, but not yet a + wreck like the rest, though she soon may be. On her deck kneels a female, + clothed in mourning; mark the wo upon her countenance,—how cunningly + the artist has conveyed its depth and desolation; she stretches out her + arms in prayer, she implores your and Heaven’s assistance. Mark now the + superscription—‘This is Rome!’—Yes, it is your country that + addresses you in this emblem!” + </p> + <p> + The crowd waved to and fro, and a deep murmur crept gathering over the + silence which they had hitherto kept. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” continued Pandulfo, “turn your gaze to the right of the picture, + and you will behold the cause of the tempest,—you will see why the + fifth vessel is thus perilled, and her sisters are thus wrecked. Mark, + four different kinds of animals, who, from their horrid jaws, send forth + the winds and storms which torture and rack the sea. The first are the + lions, the wolves, the bears. These, the inscription tells you, are the + lawless and savage signors of the state. The next are the dogs and swine,—these + are the evil counsellors and parasites. Thirdly, you behold the dragons + and the foxes,—and these are false judges and notaries, and they who + sell justice. Fourthly, in the hares, the goats, the apes, that assist in + creating the storm, you perceive, by the inscription, the emblems of the + popular thieves and homicides, ravishers and spoliators. Are ye bewildered + still, O Romans! or have ye mastered the riddle of the picture?” + </p> + <p> + Far in their massive palaces the Savelli and Orsini heard the echo of the + shouts that answered the question of Pandulfo. + </p> + <p> + “Are ye, then, without hope!” resumed the scholar, as the shout ceased, + and hushing, with the first sound of his voice, the ejaculations and + speeches which each man had turned to utter to his neighbour. “Are ye + without hope? Doth the picture, which shows your tribulation, promise you + no redemption? Behold, above that angry sea, the heavens open, and the + majesty of God descends gloriously, as to judgment: and, from the rays + that surround the Spirit of God extend two flaming swords, and on those + swords stand, in wrath, but in deliverance, the two patron saints—the + two mighty guardians of your city! People of Rome, farewell! The parable + is finished.” (M. Sismondi attributes to Rienzi a fine oration at the + showing of the picture, in which he thundered against the vices of the + patricians. The contemporary biographer of Rienzi says nothing of this + harangue. But, apparently (since history has its liberties as well as + fiction), M. Sismondi has thought it convenient to confound two occasions + very distinct in themselves.) + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.X. A Rough Spirit Raised, Which May Hereafter Rend the Wizard. + </h2> + <p> + While thus animated was the scene around the Capitol, within one of the + apartments of the palace sat the agent and prime cause of that excitement. + In the company of his quiet scribes, Rienzi appeared absorbed in the + patient details of his avocation. While the murmur and the hum, the shout + and the tramp, of multitudes, rolled to his chamber, he seemed not to heed + them, nor to rouse himself a moment from his task. With the unbroken + regularity of an automaton, he continued to enter in his large book, and + with the clear and beautiful characters of the period, those damning + figures which taught him, better than declamations, the frauds practised + on the people, and armed him with that weapon of plain fact which it is so + difficult for abuse to parry. + </p> + <p> + “Page 2, Vol. B.,” said he, in the tranquil voice of business, to the + clerks; “see there, the profits of the salt duty; department No.3—very + well. Page 9, Vol. D.—what is the account rendered by Vescobaldi, + the collector? What! twelve thousand florins?—no more?—unconscionable + rascal!” (Here was a loud shout without of ‘Pandulfo!—long live + Pandulfo!’) “Pastrucci, my friend, your head wanders; you are listening to + the noise without—please to amuse yourself with the calculation I + entrusted to you. Santi, what is the entry given in by Antonio Tralli?” + </p> + <p> + A slight tap was heard at the door, and Pandulfo entered. + </p> + <p> + The clerks continued their labour, though they looked up hastily at the + pale and respectable visitor, whose name, to their great astonishment, had + thus become a popular cry. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my friend,” said Rienzi, calmly enough in voice, but his hands + trembled with ill-suppressed emotion, “you would speak to me alone, eh? + well, well—this way.” Thus saying, he led the citizen into a small + cabinet in the rear of the room of office, carefully shut the door, and + then giving himself up to the natural impatience of his character, seized + Pandulfo by the hand: “Speak!” cried he: “do they take the interpretation?—have + you made it plain and palpable enough?—has it sunk deep into their + souls?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, by St. Peter! yes!” returned the citizen, whose spirits were elevated + by his recent discovery that he, too, was an orator—a luxurious + pleasure for a timid man. “They swallowed every word of the + interpretation; they are moved to the marrow—you might lead them + this very hour to battle, and find them heroes. As for the sturdy smith—” + </p> + <p> + “What! Cecco del Vecchio?” interrupted Rienzi; “ah, his heart is wrought + in bronze—what did he?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, he caught me by the hem of my robe as I descended my rostrum, (oh! + would you could have seen me!—per fede I had caught your mantle!—I + was a second you!) and said, weeping like a child, ‘Ah, Signor, I am but a + poor man, and of little worth; but if every drop of blood in this body + were a life, I would give it for my country!’” + </p> + <p> + “Brave soul,” said Rienzi, with emotion; “would Rome had but fifty such! + No man hath done us more good among his own class than Cecco del Vecchio.” + </p> + <p> + “They feel a protection in his very size,” said Pandulfo. “It is something + to hear such big words from such a big fellow.” + </p> + <p> + “Were there any voices lifted in disapprobation of the picture and its + sentiment?” + </p> + <p> + “None.” + </p> + <p> + “The time is nearly ripe, then—a few suns more, and the fruit must + be gathered. The Aventine,—the Lateran,—and then the solitary + trumpet!” Thus saying, Rienzi, with folded arms and downcast eyes, seemed + sunk into a reverie. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” said Pandulfo, “I had almost forgot to tell thee, that the + crowd would have poured themselves hither, so impatient were they to see + thee; but I bade Cecco del Vecchio mount the rostrum, and tell them, in + his blunt way, that it would be unseemly at the present time, when thou + wert engaged in the Capitol on civil and holy affairs, to rush in so great + a body into thy presence. Did I not right?” + </p> + <p> + “Most right, my Pandulfo.” + </p> + <p> + “But Cecco del Vecchio says he must come and kiss thy hand: and thou mayst + expect him here the moment he can escape unobserved from the crowd.” + </p> + <p> + “He is welcome!” said Rienzi, half mechanically, for he was still absorbed + in thought. + </p> + <p> + “And, lo! here he is,”—as one of the scribes announced the visit of + the smith. + </p> + <p> + “Let him be admitted!” said Rienzi, seating himself composedly. + </p> + <p> + When the huge smith found himself in the presence of Rienzi, it amused + Pandulfo to perceive the wonderful influences of mind over matter. That + fierce and sturdy giant, who, in all popular commotions, towered above his + tribe, with thews of stone, and nerves of iron, the rallying point and + bulwark of the rest,—stood now colouring and trembling before the + intellect, which (so had the eloquent spirit of Rienzi waked and fanned + the spark which, till then, had lain dormant in that rough bosom) might + almost be said to have created his own. And he, indeed, who first arouses + in the bondsman the sense and soul of freedom, comes as near as is + permitted to man, nearer than the philosopher, nearer even than the poet, + to the great creative attribute of God!—But, if the breast be + uneducated, the gift may curse the giver; and he who passes at once from + the slave to the freeman may pass as rapidly from the freeman to the + ruffian. + </p> + <p> + “Approach, my friend,” said Rienzi, after a moment’s pause; “I know all + that thou hast done, and wouldst do, for Rome! Thou art worthy of her best + days, and thou art born to share in their return.” + </p> + <p> + The smith dropped at the feet of Rienzi, who held out his hand to raise + him, which Cecco del Vecchio seized, and reverentially kissed. + </p> + <p> + “This kiss does not betray,” said Rienzi, smiling; “but rise, my friend,—this + posture is only due to God and his saints!” + </p> + <p> + “He is a saint who helps us at need!” said the smith, bluntly, “and that + no man has done as thou hast. But when,” he added, sinking his voice, and + fixing his eyes hard on Rienzi, as one may do who waits a signal to strike + a blow, “when—when shall we make the great effort?” + </p> + <p> + “Thou hast spoken to all the brave men in thy neighbourhood,—are + they well prepared?” + </p> + <p> + “To live or die, as Rienzi bids them!” + </p> + <p> + “I must have the list—the number—names—houses and + callings, this night.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou shalt.” + </p> + <p> + “Each man must sign his name or mark with his own hand.” + </p> + <p> + “It shall be done.” + </p> + <p> + “Then, harkye! attend Pandulfo di Guido at his house this evening, at + sunset. He shall instruct thee where to meet this night some brave hearts;—thou + art worthy to be ranked amongst them. Thou wilt not fail!” + </p> + <p> + “By the holy Stairs! I will count every minute till then,” said the smith, + his swarthy face lighted with pride at the confidence shown him. + </p> + <p> + “Meanwhile, watch all your neighbours; let no man flag or grow + faint-hearted,—none of thy friends must be branded as a traitor!” + </p> + <p> + “I will cut his throat, were he my own mother’s son, if I find one pledged + man flinch!” said the fierce smith. + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha!” rejoined Rienzi, with that strange laugh which belonged to him; + “a miracle! a miracle! The Picture speaks now!” + </p> + <p> + It was already nearly dusk when Rienzi left the Capitol. The broad space + before its walls was empty and deserted, and wrapping his mantle closely + round him, he walked musingly on. + </p> + <p> + “I have almost climbed the height,” thought he, “and now the precipice + yawns before me. If I fail, what a fall! The last hope of my country falls + with me. Never will a noble rise against the nobles. Never will another + plebeian have the opportunities and the power that I have! Rome is bound + up with me—with a single life. The liberties of all time are fixed + to a reed that a wind may uproot. But oh, Providence! hast thou not + reserved and marked me for great deeds? How, step by step, have I been led + on to this solemn enterprise! How has each hour prepared its successor! + And yet what danger! If the inconstant people, made cowardly by long + thraldom, do but waver in the crisis, I am swept away!” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, he raised his eyes, and lo, before him, the first star of + twilight shone calmly down upon the crumbling remnants of the Tarpeian + Rock. It was no favouring omen, and Rienzi’s heart beat quicker as that + dark and ruined mass frowned thus suddenly on his gaze. + </p> + <p> + “Dread monument,” thought he, “of what dark catastrophes, to what unknown + schemes, hast thou been the witness! To how many enterprises, on which + history is dumb, hast thou set the seal! How know we whether they were + criminal or just? How know we whether he, thus doomed as a traitor, would + not, if successful, have been immortalized as a deliverer? If I fall, who + will write my chronicle? One of the people? alas! blinded and ignorant, + they furnish forth no minds that can appeal to posterity. One of the + patricians? in what colours then shall I be painted! No tomb will rise for + me amidst the wrecks; no hand scatter flowers upon my grave!” + </p> + <p> + Thus meditating on the verge of that mighty enterprise to which he had + devoted himself, Rienzi pursued his way. He gained the Tiber, and paused + for a few moments beside its legendary stream, over which the purple and + starlit heaven shone deeply down. He crossed the bridge which leads to the + quarter of the Trastevere, whose haughty inhabitants yet boast themselves + the sole true descendants of the ancient Romans. Here he step grew quicker + and more light; brighter, if less solemn, thoughts crowded upon his + breast; and ambition, lulled for a moment, left his strained and + over-laboured mind to the reign of a softer passion. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.XI. Nina di Raselli. + </h2> + <p> + “I tell you, Lucia, I do not love those stuffs; they do not become me. Saw + you ever so poor a dye?—this purple, indeed! that crimson! Why did + you let the man leave them? Let him take them elsewhere tomorrow. They may + suit the signoras on the other side the Tiber, who imagine everything + Venetian must be perfect; but I, Lucia, I see with my own eyes, and judge + from my own mind.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, dear lady,” said the serving-maid, “if you were, as you doubtless + will be, some time or other, a grand signora, how worthily you would wear + the honours! Santa Cecilia! No other dame in Rome would be looked at while + the Lady Nina were by!” + </p> + <p> + “Would we not teach them what pomp was?” answered Nina. “Oh! what + festivals would we hold! Saw you not from the gallery the revels given + last week by the Lady Giulia Savelli?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, signora; and when you walked up the hall in your silver and pearl + tissue, there ran such a murmur through the gallery; every one cried, ‘The + Savelli have entertained an angel!’” + </p> + <p> + “Pish! Lucia; no flattery, girl.” + </p> + <p> + “It is naked truth, lady. But that was a revel, was it not? There was + grandeur!—fifty servitors in scarlet and gold! and the music playing + all the while. The minstrels were sent for from Bergamo. Did not that + festival please you? Ah, I warrant many were the fine speeches made to you + that day!” + </p> + <p> + “Heigho!—no, there was one voice wanting, and all the music was + marred. But, girl, were I the Lady Giulia, I would not have been contented + with so poor a revel.” + </p> + <p> + “How, poor! Why all the nobles say it outdid the proudest marriage-feast + of the Colonna. Nay, a Neapolitan who sat next me, and who had served + under the young Queen Joanna, at her marriage, says, that even Naples was + outshone.” + </p> + <p> + “That may be. I know nought of Naples; but I know what my court should + have been, were I what—what I am not, and may never be! The banquet + vessels should have been of gold; the cups jewelled to the brim; not an + inch of the rude pavement should have been visible; all should have glowed + with cloth of gold. The fountain in the court should have showered up the + perfumes of the East; my pages should not have been rough youths, blushing + at their own uncouthness, but fair boys, who had not told their twelfth + year, culled from the daintiest palaces of Rome; and, as for the music, + oh, Lucia!—each musician should have worn a chaplet, and deserved + it; and he who played best should have had a reward, to inspire all the + rest—a rose from me. Saw you, too, the Lady Giulia’s robe? What + colours! they might have put out the sun at noonday!—yellow, and + blue, and orange, and scarlet! Oh, sweet Saints!—but my eyes ached + all the next day!” + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless, the Lady Giulia lacks your skill in the mixture of colours,” + said the complaisant waiting-woman. + </p> + <p> + “And then, too, what a mien!—no royalty in it! She moved along the + hall, so that her train well nigh tripped her every moment; and then she + said, with a foolish laugh, ‘These holyday robes are but troublesome + luxuries.’ Troth, for the great there should be no holyday robes; ‘tis for + myself, not for others, that I would attire! Every day should have its new + robe, more gorgeous than the last;—every day should be a holyday!” + </p> + <p> + “Methought,” said Lucia, “that the Lord Giovanni Orsini seemed very + devoted to my Lady.” + </p> + <p> + “He! the bear!” + </p> + <p> + “Bear, he may be! but he has a costly skin. His riches are untold.” + </p> + <p> + “And the fool knows not how to spend them.” + </p> + <p> + “Was not that the young Lord Adrian who spoke to you just by the columns, + where the music played?” + </p> + <p> + “It might be,—I forget.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet, I hear that few ladies forget when Lord Adrian di Castello woos + them.” + </p> + <p> + “There was but one man whose company seemed to me worth the recollection,” + answered Nina, unheeding the insinuation of the artful handmaid. + </p> + <p> + “And who was he?” asked Lucia. + </p> + <p> + “The old scholar from Avignon!” + </p> + <p> + “What! he with the gray beard? Oh, Signora!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Nina, with a grave and sad voice; “when he spoke, the whole + scene vanished from my eyes,—for he spoke to me of HIM!” + </p> + <p> + As she said this, the Signora sighed deeply, and the tears gathered to her + eyes. + </p> + <p> + The waiting-woman raised her lips in disdain, and her looks in wonder; but + she did not dare to venture a reply. + </p> + <p> + “Open the lattice,” said Nina, after a pause, “and give me yon paper. Not + that, girl—but the verses sent me yesterday. What! art thou Italian, + and dost thou not know, by instinct, that I spoke of the rhyme of + Petrarch?” + </p> + <p> + Seated by the open casement, through which the moonlight stole soft and + sheen, with one lamp beside her, from which she seemed to shade her eyes, + though in reality she sought to hide her countenance from Lucia, the young + Signora appeared absorbed in one of those tender sonnets which then turned + the brains and inflamed the hearts of Italy. (Although it is true that the + love sonnets of Petrarch were not then, as now, the most esteemed of his + works, yet it has been a great, though a common error, to represent them + as little known and coldly admired. Their effect was, in reality, + prodigious and universal. Every ballad-singer sung them in the streets, + and (says Filippo Villani), “Gravissimi nesciebant abstinere”—“Even + the gravest could not abstain from them.”) + </p> + <p> + Born of an impoverished house, which, though boasting its descent from a + consular race of Rome, scarcely at that day maintained a rank amongst the + inferior order of nobility, Nina di Raselli was the spoiled child—the + idol and the tyrant—of her parents. The energetic and self-willed + character of her mind made her rule where she should have obeyed; and as + in all ages dispositions can conquer custom, she had, though in a clime + and land where the young and unmarried of her sex are usually chained and + fettered, assumed, and by assuming won, the prerogative of independence. + She possessed, it is true, more learning and more genius than generally + fell to the share of women in that day; and enough of both to be deemed a + miracle by her parents;—she had, also, what they valued more, a + surpassing beauty; and, what they feared more, an indomitable haughtiness;—a + haughtiness mixed with a thousand soft and endearing qualities where she + loved; and which, indeed, where she loved, seemed to vanish. At once vain + yet high-minded, resolute yet impassioned, there was a gorgeous + magnificence in her very vanity and splendour,—an ideality in her + waywardness: her defects made a part of her brilliancy; without them she + would have seemed less woman; and, knowing her, you would have compared + all women by her standard. Softer qualities beside her seemed not more + charming, but more insipid. She had no vulgar ambition, for she had + obstinately refused many alliances which the daughter of Raselli could + scarcely have hoped to form. The untutored minds and savage power of the + Roman nobles seemed to her imagination, which was full of the poetry of + rank, its luxury and its graces, as something barbarous and revolting, at + once to be dreaded and despised. She had, therefore, passed her twentieth + year unmarried, but not without love. The faults, themselves, of her + character, elevated that ideal of love which she had formed. She required + some being round whom all her vainer qualities could rally; she felt that + where she loved she must adore; she demanded no common idol before which + to humble so strong and imperious a mind. Unlike women of a gentler mould, + who desire, for a short period, to exercise the caprices of sweet empire,—when + she loved she must cease to command; and pride, at once, be humbled to + devotion. So rare were the qualities that could attract her; so + imperiously did her haughtiness require that those qualities should be + above her own, yet of the same order; that her love elevated its object + like a god. Accustomed to despise, she felt all the luxury it is to + venerate! And if it were her lot to be united with one thus loved, her + nature was that which might become elevated by the nature that it gazed + on. For her beauty—Reader, shouldst thou ever go to Rome, thou wilt + see in the Capitol the picture of the Cumaean Sibyl, which, often copied, + no copy can even faintly represent. I beseech thee, mistake not this sibyl + for another, for the Roman galleries abound in sibyls. (The sibyl referred + to is the well-known one by Domenichino. As a mere work of art, that by + Guercino, called the Persian sibyl, in the same collection, is perhaps + superior; but in beauty, in character, there is no comparison.) The sibyl + I speak of is dark, and the face has an Eastern cast; the robe and turban, + gorgeous though they be, grow dim before the rich, but transparent roses + of the cheek; the hair would be black, save for that golden glow which + mellows it to a hue and lustre never seen but in the south, and even in + the south most rare; the features, not Grecian, are yet faultless; the + mouth, the brow, the ripe and exquisite contour, all are human and + voluptuous; the expression, the aspect, is something more; the form is, + perhaps, too full for the perfection of loveliness, for the proportions of + sculpture, for the delicacy of Athenian models; but the luxuriant fault + has a majesty. Gaze long upon that picture: it charms, yet commands, the + eye. While you gaze, you call back five centuries. You see before you the + breathing image of Nina di Raselli! + </p> + <p> + But it was not those ingenious and elaborate conceits in which Petrarch, + great Poet though he be, has so often mistaken pedantry for passion, that + absorbed at that moment the attention of the beautiful Nina. Her eyes + rested not on the page, but on the garden that stretched below the + casement. Over the old fruit-trees and hanging vines fell the moonshine; + and in the centre of the green, but half-neglected sward, the waters of a + small and circular fountain, whose perfect proportions spoke of days long + past, played and sparkled in the starlight. The scene was still and + beautiful; but neither of its stillness nor its beauty thought Nina: + towards one, the gloomiest and most rugged, spot in the whole garden, + turned her gaze; there, the trees stood densely massed together, and shut + from view the low but heavy wall which encircled the mansion of Raselli. + The boughs on those trees stirred gently, but Nina saw them wave; and now + from the copse emerged, slowly and cautiously, a solitary figure, whose + shadow threw itself, long and dark, over the sward. It approached the + window, and a low voice breathed Nina’s name. + </p> + <p> + “Quick, Lucia!” cried she, breathlessly, turning to her handmaid: “quick! + the rope-ladder! it is he! he is come! How slow you are! haste, girl,—he + may be discovered! There,—O joy,—O joy!—My lover! my + hero! my Rienzi!” + </p> + <p> + “It is you!” said Rienzi, as, now entering the chamber, he wound his arms + around her half-averted form, “and what is night to others is day to me!” + </p> + <p> + The first sweet moments of welcome were over; and Rienzi was seated at the + feet of his mistress: his head rested on her knees—his face looking + up to hers—their hands clasped each in each. + </p> + <p> + “And for me thou bravest these dangers!” said the lover; “the shame of + discovery, the wrath of thy parents!” + </p> + <p> + “But what are my perils to thine? Oh, Heaven! if my father found thee here + thou wouldst die!” + </p> + <p> + “He would think it then so great a humiliation, that thou, beautiful Nina, + who mightst match with the haughtiest names of Rome, shouldst waste thy + love on a plebeian—even though the grandson of an emperor!” + </p> + <p> + The proud heart of Nina could sympathize well with the wounded pride of + her lover: she detected the soreness which lurked beneath his answer, + carelessly as it was uttered. + </p> + <p> + “Hast thou not told me,” she said, “of that great Marius, who was no + noble, but from whom the loftiest Colonna would rejoice to claim his + descent? and do I not know in thee one who shall yet eclipse the power of + Marius, unsullied by his vices?” + </p> + <p> + “Delicious flattery! sweet prophet!” said Rienzi, with a melancholy smile; + “never were thy supporting promises of the future more welcome to me than + now; for to thee I will say what I would utter to none else—my soul + half sinks beneath the mighty burthen I have heaped upon it. I want new + courage as the dread hour approaches; and from thy words and looks I drink + it.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” answered Nina, blushing as she spoke, “glorious is indeed the lot + which I have bought by my love for thee: glorious to share thy schemes, to + cheer thee in doubt, to whisper hope to thee in danger.” + </p> + <p> + “And give grace to me in triumph!” added Rienzi, passionately. “Ah! should + the future ever place upon these brows the laurel-wreath due to one who + has saved his country, what joy, what recompence, to lay it at thy feet! + Perhaps, in those long and solitary hours of languor and exhaustion which + fill up the interstices of time,—the dull space for sober thought + between the epochs of exciting action,—perhaps I should have failed + and flagged, and renounced even my dreams for Rome, had they not been + linked also with my dreams for thee!—had I not pictured to myself + the hour when my fate should elevate me beyond my birth; when thy sire + would deem it no disgrace to give thee to my arms; when thou, too, + shouldst stand amidst the dames of Rome, more honoured, as more beautiful, + than all; and when I should see that pomp, which my own soul disdains, + (‘Quem semper abhorrui sicut cenum’ is the expression used by Rienzi, in + his letter to his friend at Avignon, and which was probably sincere. Men + rarely act according to the bias of their own tastes.) made dear and + grateful to me because associated with thee! Yes, it is these thoughts + that have inspired me, when sterner ones have shrunk back appalled from + the spectres that surround their goal. And oh! my Nina, sacred, strong, + enduring must be, indeed, the love which lives in the same pure and + elevated air as that which sustains my hopes of liberty and fame!” + </p> + <p> + This was the language which, more even than the vows of fidelity and the + dear adulation which springs from the heart’s exuberance, had bound the + proud and vain soul of Nina to the chains that it so willingly wore. + Perhaps, indeed, in the absence of Rienzi, her weaker nature pictured to + herself the triumph of humbling the highborn signoras, and eclipsing the + barbarous magnificence of the chiefs of Rome; but in his presence, and + listening to his more elevated and generous ambition, as yet all unsullied + by one private feeling save the hope of her, her higher sympathies were + enlisted with his schemes, her mind aspired to raise itself to the height + of his, and she thought less of her own rise than of his glory. It was + sweet to her pride to be the sole confidante of his most secret thoughts, + as of his most hardy undertakings; to see bared before her that intricate + and plotting spirit; to be admitted even to the knowledge of its doubts + and weakness, as of its heroism and power. + </p> + <p> + Nothing could be more contrasted than the loves of Rienzi and Nina, and + those of Adrian and Irene: in the latter, all were the dreams, the + phantasies, the extravagance, of youth; they never talked of the future; + they mingled no other aspirations with those of love. Ambition, glory, the + world’s high objects, were nothing to them when together; their love had + swallowed up the world, and left nothing visible beneath the sun, save + itself. But the passion of Nina and her lover was that of more complicated + natures and more mature years: it was made up of a thousand feelings, each + naturally severed from each, but compelled into one focus by the mighty + concentration of love; their talk was of the world; it was from the world + that they drew the aliment which sustained it; it was of the future they + spoke and thought; of its dreams and imagined glories they made themselves + a home and altar; their love had in it more of the Intellectual than that + of Adrian and Irene; it was more fitted for this hard earth; it had in it, + also, more of the leaven of the later and iron days, and less of poetry + and the first golden age. + </p> + <p> + “And must thou leave me now?” said Nina, her cheek no more averted from + his lips, nor her form from his parting embrace. “The moon is high yet; it + is but a little hour thou hast given me.” + </p> + <p> + “An hour! Alas!” said Rienzi, “it is near upon midnight—our friends + await me.” + </p> + <p> + “Go, then, my soul’s best half! Go; Nina shall not detain thee one moment + from those higher objects which make thee so dear to Nina. When—when + shall we meet again!” + </p> + <p> + “Not,” said Rienzi, proudly, and with all his soul upon his brow, “not + thus, by stealth! no! nor as I thus have met thee, the obscure and + contemned bondsman! When next thou seest me, it shall be at the head of + the sons of Rome! her champion! her restorer! or—” said he, sinking + his voice— + </p> + <p> + “There is no or!” interrupted Nina, weaving her arms round him, and + catching his enthusiasm; “thou hast uttered thine own destiny!” + </p> + <p> + “One kiss more!—farewell!—the tenth day from the morrow shines + upon the restoration of Rome!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 1.XII. The Strange Adventures that Befel Walter de Montreal. + </h2> + <p> + It was upon that same evening, and while the earlier stars yet shone over + the city, that Walter de Montreal, returning, alone, to the convent then + associated with the church of Santa Maria del Priorata (both of which + belonged to the Knights of the Hospital, and in the first of which + Montreal had taken his lodgment), paused amidst the ruins and desolation + which lay around his path. Thou little skilled in the classic memories and + associations of the spot, he could not but be impressed with the + surrounding witnesses of departed empire; the vast skeleton, as it were, + of the dead giantess. + </p> + <p> + “Now,” thought he, as he gazed around upon the roofless columns and + shattered walls, everywhere visible, over which the starlight shone, + ghastly and transparent, backed by the frowning and embattled fortresses + of the Frangipani, half hid by the dark foliage that sprung up amidst the + very fanes and palaces of old—Nature exulting over the frailer Art; + “now,” thought he, “bookmen would be inspired, by this scene, with + fantastic and dreaming visions of the past. But to me these monuments of + high ambition and royal splendour create only images of the future. Rome + may yet be, with her seven-hilled diadem, as Rome has been before, the + prize of the strongest hand and the boldest warrior,—revived, not by + her own degenerate sons, but the infused blood of a new race. William the + Bastard could scarce have found the hardy Englishers so easy a conquest as + Walter the Well-born may find these eunuch Romans. And which conquest were + the more glorious,—the barbarous Isle, or the Metropolis of the + World? Short step from the general to the podesta—shorter step from + the podesta to the king!” + </p> + <p> + While thus revolving his wild, yet not altogether chimerical ambition, a + quick light step was heard amidst the long herbage, and, looking up, + Montreal perceived the figure of a tall female descending from that part + of the hill then covered by many convents, towards the base of the + Aventine. She supported her steps with a long staff, and moved with such + elasticity and erectness, that now, as her face became visible by the + starlight, it was surprising to perceive that it was the face of one + advanced in years,—a harsh, proud countenance, withered, and deeply + wrinkled, but not without a certain regularity of outline. + </p> + <p> + “Merciful Virgin!” cried Montreal, starting back as that face gleamed upon + him: “is it possible? It is she:—it is—” + </p> + <p> + He sprung forward, and stood right before the old woman, who seemed + equally surprised, though more dismayed, at the sight of Montreal. + </p> + <p> + “I have sought thee for years,” said the Knight, first breaking the + silence; “years, long years,—thy conscience can tell thee why.” + </p> + <p> + “Mine, man of blood!” cried the female, trembling with rage or fear; + “darest thou talk of conscience? Thou, the dishonourer—the robber—the + professed homicide! Thou, disgrace to knighthood and to birth! Thou, with + the cross of chastity and of peace upon thy breast! Thou talk of + conscience, hypocrite!—thou?” + </p> + <p> + “Lady—lady!” said Montreal, deprecatingly, and almost quailing + beneath the fiery passion of that feeble woman, “I have sinned against + thee and thine. But remember all my excuses!—early love—fatal + obstacles—rash vow—irresistible temptation! Perhaps,” he + added, in a more haughty tone, “perhaps, yet, I may have the power to + atone my error, and wring, with mailed hand, from the successor of St + Peter, who hath power to loose as to bind—” + </p> + <p> + “Perjured and abandoned!” interrupted the female; “dost thou dream that + violence can purchase absolution, or that thou canst ever atone the past?—a + noble name disgraced, a father’s broken heart and dying curse! Yes, that + curse, I hear it now! it rings upon me thrillingly, as when I watched the + expiring clay! it cleaves to thee—it pursues thee—it shall + pierce thee through thy corselet—it shall smite thee in the meridian + of thy power! Genius wasted—ambition blasted—penitence + deferred—a life of brawls, and a death of shame—thy + destruction the offspring of thy crime!—To this, to this, an old + man’s curse hath doomed thee!—AND THOU ART DOOMED!” + </p> + <p> + These words were rather shrieked than spoken: and the flashing eye, the + lifted hand, the dilated form of the speaker—the hour—the + solitude of the ruins around—all conspired to give to the fearful + execration the character of prophecy. The warrior, against whose undaunted + breast a hundred spears had shivered in vain, fell appalled and humbled to + the ground. He seized the hem of his fierce denouncer’s robe, and cried, + in a choked and hollow voice, “Spare me! spare me!” + </p> + <p> + “Spare thee!” said the unrelenting crone; “hast thou ever spared man in + thy hatred, or woman in thy lust? Ah, grovel in the dust!—crouch—crouch!—wild + beast as thou art! whose sleek skin and beautiful hues have taught the + unwary to be blind to the talons that rend, and the grinders that devour;—crouch, + that the foot of the old and impotent may spurn thee!” + </p> + <p> + “Hag!” cried Montreal, in the reaction of sudden fury and maddened pride, + springing up to the full height of his stature. “Hag! thou hast passed the + limits to which, remembering who thou art, my forbearance gave thee + licence. I had well-nigh forgot that thou hadst assumed my part—I am + the Accuser! Woman!—the boy!—shrink not! equivocate not! lie + not!—thou wert the thief!” + </p> + <p> + “I was. Thou taughtest me the lesson how to steal a—” + </p> + <p> + “Render—restore him!” interrupted Montreal, stamping on the ground + with such force that the splinters of the marble fragments on which he + stood shivered under his armed heel. + </p> + <p> + The woman little heeded a violence at which the fiercest warrior of Italy + might have trembled; but she did not make an immediate answer. The + character of her countenance altered from passion into an expression of + grave, intent, and melancholy thought. At length she replied to Montreal; + whose hand had wandered to his dagger-hilt, with the instinct of long + habit, whenever enraged or thwarted, rather than from any design of blood; + which, stern and vindictive as he was, he would have been incapable of + forming against any woman,—much less against the one then before + him. + </p> + <p> + “Walter de Montreal,” said she, in a voice so calm that it almost sounded + like that of compassion, “the boy, I think, has never known brother or + sister: the only child of a once haughty and lordly race, on both sides, + though now on both dishonoured—nay, why so impatient? thou wilt soon + learn the worst—the boy is dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” repeated Montreal, recoiling and growing pale; “dead!—no, no—say + not that! He has a mother,—you know he has!—a fond, + meekhearted, anxious, hoping mother!—no!—no, he is not dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Thou canst feel, then, for a mother?” said the old woman, seemingly + touched by the tone of the Provencal. “Yet, bethink thee; is it not better + that the grave should save him from a life of riot, of bloodshed, and of + crime? Better to sleep with God than to wake with the fiends!” + </p> + <p> + “Dead!” echoed Montreal; “dead!—the pretty one!—so young!—those + eyes—the mother’s eyes—closed so soon?” + </p> + <p> + “Hast thou aught else to say? Thy sight scares my very womanhood from my + soul!—let me be gone.” + </p> + <p> + “Dead!—may I believe thee? or dost thou mock me? Thou hast uttered + thy curse, hearken to my warning:—If thou hast lied in this, thy + last hour shall dismay thee, and thy death-bed shall be the death-bed of + despair!” + </p> + <p> + “Thy lips,” replied the female, with a scornful smile, “are better adapted + for lewd vows to unhappy maidens, than for the denunciations which sound + solemn only when coming from the good. Farewell!” + </p> + <p> + “Stay! inexorable woman! stay!—where sleeps he? Masses shall be + sung! priests shall pray!—the sins of the father shall not be + visited on that young head!” + </p> + <p> + “At Florence!” returned the woman, hastily. “But no stone records the + departed one!—The dead boy had no name!” + </p> + <p> + Waiting for no further questionings, the woman now passed on,—pursued + her way;—and the long herbage, and the winding descent, soon + snatched her ill-omened apparition from the desolate landscape. + </p> + <p> + Montreal, thus alone, sunk with a deep and heavy sigh upon the ground, + covered his face with his hands, and burst into an agony of grief; his + chest heaved, his whole frame trembled, and he wept and sobbed aloud, with + all the fearful vehemence of a man whose passions are strong and fierce, + but to whom the violence of grief alone is novel and unfamiliar. + </p> + <p> + He remained thus, prostrate and unmanned, for a considerable time, growing + slowly and gradually more calm as tears relieved his emotion; and, at + length, rather indulging a gloomy reverie than a passionate grief. The + moon was high and the hour late when he arose, and then few traces of the + past excitement remained upon his countenance; for Walter de Montreal was + not of that mould in which woe can force a settlement, or to which any + affliction can bring the continued and habitual melancholy that darkens + those who feel more enduringly, though with emotions less stormy. His were + the elements of the true Franc character, though carried to excess: his + sternest and his deepest qualities were mingled with fickleness and + caprice; his profound sagacity often frustrated by a whim; his towering + ambition deserted for some frivolous temptation; and his elastic, + sanguine, and high-spirited nature, faithful only to the desire of + military glory, to the poetry of a daring and stormy life, and to the + susceptibilities of that tender passion without whose colourings no + portrait of chivalry is complete, and in which he was capable of a + sentiment, a tenderness, and a loyal devotion, which could hardly have + been supposed compatible with his reckless levity and his undisciplined + career. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said he, as he rose slowly, folded his mantle round him, and + resumed his way, “it was not for myself I grieved thus. But the pang is + past, and the worst is known. Now, then, back to those things that never + die—restless projects and daring schemes. That hag’s curse keeps my + blood cold still, and this solitude has something in it weird and awful. + Ha!—what sudden light is that?” + </p> + <p> + The light which caught Montreal’s eye broke forth almost like a star, + scarcely larger, indeed, but more red and intense in its ray. Of itself it + was nothing uncommon, and might have shone either from convent or cottage. + But it streamed from a part of the Aventine which contained no habitations + of the living, but only the empty ruins and shattered porticoes, of which + even the names and memories of the ancient inhabitants were dead. Aware of + this, Montreal felt a slight awe (as the beam threw its steady light over + the dreary landscape); for he was not without the knightly superstitions + of the age, and it was now the witching hour consecrated to ghost and + spirit. But fear, whether of this world or the next, could not long daunt + the mind of the hardy freebooter; and, after a short hesitation, he + resolved to make a digression from his way, and ascertain the cause of the + phenomenon. Unconsciously, the martial tread of the barbarian passed over + the site of the famed, or infamous, Temple of Isis, which had once + witnessed those wildest orgies commemorated by Juvenal; and came at last + to a thick and dark copse, from an opening in the centre of which gleamed + the mysterious light. Penetrating the gloomy foliage, the Knight now found + himself before a large ruin, grey and roofless, from within which came, + indistinct and muffled, the sound of voices. Through a rent in the wall, + forming a kind of casement, and about ten feet from the ground, the light + now broke over the matted and rank soil, embedded, as it were, in vast + masses of shade, and streaming through a mouldering portico hard at hand. + The Provencal stood, though he knew it not, on the very place once + consecrated by the Temple: the Portico and the Library of Liberty (the + first public library instituted in Rome). The wall of the ruin was covered + with innumerable creepers and wild brushwood, and it required but little + agility on the part of Montreal, by the help of these, to raise himself to + the height of the aperture, and, concealed by the luxuriant foliage, to + gaze within. He saw a table, lighted with tapers, in the centre of which + was a crucifix; a dagger, unsheathed; an open scroll, which the event + proved to be of sacred character; and a brazen bowl. About a hundred men, + in cloaks, and with black vizards, stood motionless around; and one, + taller than the rest, without disguise or mask—whose pale brow and + stern features seemed by that light yet paler and yet more stern—appeared + to be concluding some address to his companions. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said he, “in the church of the Lateran I will make the last appeal + to the people. Supported by the Vicar of the Pope, myself an officer of + the Pontiff, it will be seen that Religion and Liberty—the heroes + and the martyrs—are united in one cause. After that time, words are + idle; action must begin. By this crucifix I pledge my faith, on this blade + I devote my life, to the regeneration of Rome! And you (then no need for + mask or mantle!), when the solitary trump is heard, when the solitary + horseman is seen,—you, swear to rally round the standard of the + Republic, and resist—with heart and hand, with life and soul, in + defiance of death, and in hope of redemption—the arms of the + oppressor!” + </p> + <p> + “We swear—we swear!” exclaimed every voice: and, crowding toward + cross and weapon, the tapers were obscured by the intervening throng, and + Montreal could not perceive the ceremony, nor hear the muttered formula of + the oath: but he could guess that the rite then common to conspiracies—and + which required each conspirator to shed some drops of his own blood, in + token that life itself was devoted to the enterprise—had not been + omitted, when, the group again receding, the same figure as before had + addressed the meeting, holding on high the bowl with both hands,—while + from the left arm, which was bared, the blood weltered slowly, and + trickled, drop by drop, upon the ground,—said, in a solemn voice and + upturned eyes: + </p> + <p> + “Amidst the ruins of thy temple, O Liberty! we, Romans, dedicate to thee + this libation! We, befriended and inspired by no unreal and fabled idols, + but by the Lord of Hosts, and Him who, descending to earth, appealed not + to emperors and to princes, but to the fisherman and the peasant,—giving + to the lowly and the poor the mission of Revelation.” Then, turning + suddenly to his companions, as his features, singularly varying in their + character and expression, brightened, from solemn awe, into a martial and + kindling enthusiasm, he cried aloud, “Death to the Tyranny! Life to the + Republic!” The effect of the transition was startling. Each man, as by an + involuntary and irresistible impulse, laid his hand upon his sword, as he + echoed the sentiment; some, indeed, drew forth their blades, as if for + instant action. + </p> + <p> + “I have seen enow: they will break up anon,” said Montreal to himself: + “and I would rather face an army of thousands, than even half-a-dozen + enthusiasts, so inflamed,—and I thus detected.” And, with this + thought, he dropped on the ground, and glided away, as, once again, + through the still midnight air, broke upon his ear the muffled shout—“DEATH + TO THE TYRANNY!—LIFE TO THE REPUBLIC!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0017" id="link2H_4_0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK II. THE REVOLUTION + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ogni Lascivia, ogni male, nulla giustizia, nullo freno. + Non c’era piu remedia, ogni persona periva. Allora Cola di + Rienzi.” &c.—“Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. i. chap. 2. + + “Every kind of lewdness, every form of evil; no justice, no + restraint. Remedy there was none; perdition fell on all. + Then Cola di Rienzi,” &c.—“Life of Cola di Rienzi”. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 2.I. The Knight of Provence, and his Proposal. + </h2> + <p> + It was nearly noon as Adrian entered the gates of the palace of Stephen + Colonna. The palaces of the nobles were not then as we see them now, + receptacles for the immortal canvas of Italian, and the imperishable + sculpture of Grecian Art; but still to this day are retained the massive + walls, and barred windows, and spacious courts, which at that time + protected their rude retainers. High above the gates rose a lofty and + solid tower, whose height commanded a wide view of the mutilated remains + of Rome: the gate itself was adorned and strengthened on either side by + columns of granite, whose Doric capitals betrayed the sacrilege that had + torn them from one of the many temples that had formerly crowded the + sacred Forum. From the same spoils came, too, the vast fragments of + travertine which made the walls of the outer court. So common at that day + were these barbarous appropriations of the most precious monuments of art, + that the columns and domes of earlier Rome were regarded by all classes + but as quarries, from which every man was free to gather the materials, + whether for his castle or his cottage,—a wantonness of outrage far + greater than the Goths’, to whom a later age would fain have attributed + all the disgrace, and which, more perhaps than even heavier offences, + excited the classical indignation of Petrarch, and made him sympathise + with Rienzi in his hopes of Rome. Still may you see the churches of that + or even earlier dates, of the most shapeless architecture, built on the + sites, and from the marbles, consecrating (rather than consecrated by) the + names of Venus, of Jupiter, of Minerva. The palace of the Prince of the + Orsini, duke of Gravina, is yet reared above the graceful arches (still + visible) of the theatre of Marcellus; then a fortress of the Savelli. + </p> + <p> + As Adrian passed the court, a heavy waggon blocked up the way, laden with + huge marbles, dug from the unexhausted mine of the Golden House of Nero: + they were intended for an additional tower, by which Stephen Colonna + proposed yet more to strengthen the tasteless and barbarous edifice in + which the old noble maintained the dignity of outraging the law. + </p> + <p> + The friend of Petrarch and the pupil of Rienzi sighed deeply as he passed + this vehicle of new spoliations, and as a pillar of fluted alabaster, + rolling carelessly from the waggon, fell with a loud crash upon the + pavement. At the foot of the stairs grouped some dozen of the bandits whom + the old Colonna entertained: they were playing at dice upon an ancient + tomb, the clear and deep inscription on which (so different from the + slovenly character of the later empire) bespoke it a memorial of the most + powerful age of Rome, and which, now empty even of ashes, and upset, + served for a table to these foreign savages, and was strewn, even at that + early hour, with fragments of meat and flasks of wine. They scarcely + stirred, they scarcely looked up, as the young noble passed them; and + their fierce oaths and loud ejaculations, uttered in a northern patois, + grated harsh upon his ear, as he mounted, with a slow step, the lofty and + unclean stairs. He came into a vast ante-chamber, which was half-filled + with the higher class of the patrician’s retainers: some five or six + pages, chosen from the inferior noblesse, congregated by a narrow and + deep-sunk casement, were discussing the grave matters of gallantry and + intrigue; three petty chieftains of the band below, with their corselets + donned, and their swords and casques beside them, were sitting, stolid and + silent, at a table, in the middle of the room, and might have been taken + for automatons, save for the solemn regularity with which they ever and + anon lifted to their moustachioed lips their several goblets, and then, + with a complacent grunt, re-settled to their contemplations. Striking was + the contrast which their northern phlegm presented to a crowd of Italian + clients, and petitioners, and parasites, who walked restlessly to and fro, + talking loudly to each other, with all the vehement gestures and varying + physiognomy of southern vivacity. There was a general stir and sensation + as Adrian broke upon this miscellaneous company. The bandit captains + nodded their heads mechanically; the pages bowed, and admired the fashion + of his plume and hose; the clients, and petitioners, and parasites, + crowded round him, each with a separate request for interest with his + potent kinsman. Great need had Adrian of his wonted urbanity and address, + in extricating himself from their grasp; and painfully did he win, at + last, the low and narrow door, at which stood a tall servitor, who + admitted or rejected the applicants, according to his interest or caprice. + </p> + <p> + “Is the Baron alone?” asked Adrian. + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, my Lord: a foreign signor is with him—but to you he is of + course visible.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, you may admit me. I would inquire of his health.” + </p> + <p> + The servitor opened the door—through whose aperture peered many a + jealous and wistful eye—and consigned Adrian to the guidance of a + page, who, older and of greater esteem than the loiterers in the + ante-room, was the especial henchman of the Lord of the Castle. Passing + another, but empty chamber, vast and dreary, Adrian found himself in a + small cabinet, and in the presence of his kinsman. + </p> + <p> + Before a table, bearing the implements of writing, sate the old Colonna: a + robe of rich furs and velvet hung loose upon his tall and stately frame; + from a round skull-cap, of comforting warmth and crimson hue, a few grey + locks descended, and mixed with a long and reverent beard. The countenance + of the aged noble, who had long passed his eightieth year, still retained + the traces of a comeliness for which in earlier manhood he was remarkable. + His eyes, if deep-sunken, were still keen and lively, and sparkled with + all the fire of youth; his mouth curved upward in a pleasant, though + half-satiric, smile; and his appearance on the whole was prepossessing and + commanding, indicating rather the high blood, the shrewd wit, and the + gallant valour of the patrician, than his craft, hypocrisy, and habitual + but disdainful spirit of oppression. + </p> + <p> + Stephen Colonna, without being absolutely a hero, was indeed far braver + than most of the Romans, though he held fast to the Italian maxim—never + to fight an enemy while it is possible to cheat him. Two faults, however, + marred the effect of his sagacity: a supreme insolence of disposition, and + a profound belief in the lights of his experience. He was incapable of + analogy. What had never happened in his time, he was perfectly persuaded + never could happen. Thus, though generally esteemed an able diplomatist, + he had the cunning of the intriguant, and not the providence of a + statesman. If, however, pride made him arrogant in prosperity, it + supported him in misfortune. And in the earlier vicissitudes of a life + which had partly been consumed in exile, he had developed many noble + qualities of fortitude, endurance, and real greatness of soul; which + showed that his failings were rather acquired by circumstance than derived + from nature. His numerous and highborn race were proud of their chief; and + with justice; for he was the ablest and most honoured, not only of the + direct branch of the Colonna, but also, perhaps, of all the more powerful + barons. + </p> + <p> + Seated at the same table with Stephen Colonna was a man of noble presence, + of about three or four and thirty years of age, in whom Adrian instantly + recognised Walter de Montreal. This celebrated knight was scarcely of the + personal appearance which might have corresponded with the terror his name + generally excited. His face was handsome, almost to the extreme of + womanish delicacy. His fair hair waved long and freely over a white and + unwrinkled forehead: the life of a camp and the suns of Italy had but + little embrowned his clear and healthful complexion, which retained much + of the bloom of youth. His features were aquiline and regular; his eyes, + of a light hazel, were large, bright, and penetrating; and a short, but + curled beard and moustachio, trimmed with soldier-like precision, and very + little darker than the hair, gave indeed a martial expression to his + comely countenance, but rather the expression which might have suited the + hero of courts and tournaments, than the chief of a brigand’s camp. The + aspect, manner, and bearing, of the Provencal were those which captivate + rather than awe,—blending, as they did, a certain military frankness + with the easy and graceful dignity of one conscious of gentle birth, and + accustomed to mix, on equal terms, with the great and noble. His form + happily contrasted and elevated the character of a countenance which + required strength and stature to free its uncommon beauty from the charge + of effeminacy, being of great height and remarkable muscular power, + without the least approach to clumsy and unwieldy bulk: it erred, indeed, + rather to the side of leanness than flesh,—at once robust and + slender. But the chief personal distinction of this warrior, the most + redoubted lance of Italy, was an air and carriage of chivalric and heroic + grace, greatly set off at this time by his splendid dress, which was of + brown velvet sown with pearls, over which hung the surcoat worn by the + Knights of the Hospital, whereon was wrought, in white, the eight-pointed + cross that made the badge of his order. The Knight’s attitude was that of + earnest conversation, bending slightly forward towards the Colonna, and + resting both his hands—which (according to the usual distinction of + the old Norman race, (Small hands and feet, however disproportioned to the + rest of the person, were at that time deemed no less a distinction of the + well-born, than they have been in a more refined age. Many readers will + remember the pain occasioned to Petrarch by his tight shoes. The supposed + beauty of this peculiarity is more derived from the feudal than the + classic time.) from whom, though born in Provence, Montreal boasted his + descent) were small and delicate, the fingers being covered with jewels, + as was the fashion of the day—upon the golden hilt of an enormous + sword, on the sheath of which was elaborately wrought the silver lilies + that made the device of the Provencal Brotherhood of Jerusalem. + </p> + <p> + “Good morrow, fair kinsman!” said Stephen. “Seat thyself, I pray; and know + in this knightly visitor the celebrated Sieur de Montreal.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my Lord,” said Montreal, smiling, as he saluted Adrian; “and how is + my lady at home?” + </p> + <p> + “You mistake, Sir Knight,” quoth Stephen; “my young kinsman is not yet + married: faith, as Pope Boniface remarked, when he lay stretched on a sick + bed, and his confessor talked to him about Abraham’s bosom, ‘that is a + pleasure the greater for being deferred.’” + </p> + <p> + “The Signor will pardon my mistake,” returned Montreal. + </p> + <p> + “But not,” said Adrian, “the neglect of Sir Walter in not ascertaining the + fact in person. My thanks to him, noble kinsman, are greater than you weet + of; and he promised to visit me, that he might receive them at leisure.” + </p> + <p> + “I assure you, Signor,” answered Montreal, “that I have not forgotten the + invitation; but so weighty hitherto have been my affairs at Rome, that I + have been obliged to parley with my impatience to better our + acquaintance.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, ye knew each other before?” said Stephen. “And how?” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord, there is a damsel in the case!” replied Montreal. “Excuse my + silence.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Adrian, Adrian! when will you learn my continence!” said Stephen, + solemnly stroking his grey beard. “What an example I set you! But a truce + to this light conversation,—let us resume our theme. You must know, + Adrian, that it is to the brave band of my guest I am indebted for those + valiant gentlemen below, who keep Rome so quiet, though my poor habitation + so noisy. He has called to proffer more assistance, if need be; and to + advise me on the affairs of Northern Italy. Continue, I pray thee, Sir + Knight; I have no disguises from my kinsman.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou seest,” said Montreal, fixing his penetrating eyes on Adrian, “thou + seest, doubtless, my Lord, that Italy at this moment presents to us a + remarkable spectacle. It is a contest between two opposing powers, which + shall destroy the other. The one power is that of the unruly and turbulent + people—a power which they call ‘Liberty;’ the other power is that of + the chiefs and princes—a power which they more appropriately call + ‘Order.’ Between these parties the cities of Italy are divided. In + Florence, in Genoa, in Pisa, for instance, is established a Free State—a + Republic, God wot! and a more riotous, unhappy state of government, cannot + well be imagined.” + </p> + <p> + “That is perfectly true,” quoth Stephen; “they banished my own first + cousin from Genoa.” + </p> + <p> + “A perpetual strife, in short,” continued Montreal, “between the great + families; an alternation of prosecutions, and confiscations, and + banishments: today, the Guelfs proscribe the Ghibellines—tomorrow, + the Ghibellines drive out the Guelfs. This may be liberty, but it is the + liberty of the strong against the weak. In the other cities, as Milan, as + Verona, as Bologna, the people are under the rule of one man,—who + calls himself a prince, and whom his enemies call a tyrant. Having more + force than any other citizen, he preserves a firm government; having more + constant demand on his intellect and energies than the other citizens, he + also preserves a wise one. These two orders of government are enlisted + against each other: whenever the people in the one rebel against their + prince, the people of the other—that is, the Free States—send + arms and money to their assistance.” + </p> + <p> + “You hear, Adrian, how wicked those last are,” quoth Stephen. + </p> + <p> + “Now it seems to me,” continued Montreal, “that this contest must end some + time or other. All Italy must become republican or monarchical. It is easy + to predict which will be the result.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Liberty must conquer in the end!” said Adrian, warmly. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, young Lord; my opinion is entirely the reverse. You perceive + that these republics are commercial,—are traders; they esteem + wealth, they despise valour, they cultivate all trades save that of the + armourer. Accordingly, how do they maintain themselves in war: by their + own citizens? Not a whit of it! Either they send to some foreign chief, + and promise, if he grant them his protection, the principality of the city + for five or ten years in return; or else they borrow from some hardy + adventurer, like myself, as many troops as they can afford to pay for. Is + it not so, Lord Adrian?” + </p> + <p> + Adrian nodded his reluctant assent. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, it is the fault of the foreign chief if he do not make his + power permanent; as has been already done in States once free by the + Visconti and the Scala: or else it is the fault of the captain of the + mercenaries if he do not convert his brigands into senators, and himself + into a king. These are events so natural, that one day or other they will + occur throughout all Italy. And all Italy will then become monarchical. + Now it seems to me the interest of all the powerful families—your + own, at Rome, as that of the Visconti, at Milan—to expedite this + epoch, and to check, while you yet may with ease, that rebellious + contagion amongst the people which is now rapidly spreading, and which + ends in the fever of licence to them, but in the corruption of death to + you. In these free States, the nobles are the first to suffer: first your + privileges, then your property, are swept away. Nay, in Florence, as ye + well know, my Lords, no noble is even capable of holding the meanest + office in the State!” + </p> + <p> + “Villains!” said Colonna, “they violate the first law of nature!” + </p> + <p> + “At this moment,” resumed Montreal, who, engrossed with his subject, + little heeded the interruptions he received from the holy indignation of + the Baron: “at this moment, there are many—the wisest, perhaps, in + the free States—who desire to renew the old Lombard leagues, in + defence of their common freedom everywhere, and against whosoever shall + aspire to be prince. Fortunately, the deadly jealousies between these + merchant States—the base plebeian jealousies—more of trade + than of glory—interpose at present an irresistible obstacle to this + design; and Florence, the most stirring and the most esteemed of all, is + happily so reduced by reverses of commerce as to be utterly unable to + follow out so great an undertaking. Now, then, is the time for us, my + Lords; while these obstacles are so great for our foes, now is the time + for us to form and cement a counter-league between all the princes of + Italy. To you, noble Stephen, I have come, as your rank demands,—alone, + of all the barons of Rome,—to propose to you this honourable union. + Observe what advantages it proffers to your house. The popes have + abandoned Rome for ever; there is no counterpoise to your ambition,—there + need be none to your power. You see before you the examples of Visconti + and Taddeo di Pepoli. You may found in Rome, the first city of Italy, a + supreme and uncontrolled principality, subjugate utterly your weaker + rivals,—the Savelli, the Malatesta, the Orsini,—and leave to + your sons’ sons an hereditary kingdom that may aspire once more, perhaps, + to the empire of the world.” + </p> + <p> + Stephen shaded his face with his hand as he answered: “But this, noble + Montreal, requires means:—money and men.” + </p> + <p> + “Of the last, you can command from me enow—my small company, the + best disciplined, can (whenever I please) swell to the most numerous in + Italy: in the first, noble Baron, the rich House of Colonna cannot fail; + and even a mortgage on its vast estates may be well repaid when you have + possessed yourselves of the whole revenues of Rome. You see,” continued + Montreal, turning to Adrian, in whose youth he expected a more warm ally + than in the his hoary kinsman: “you see, at a glance, how feasible is this + project, and what a mighty field it opens to your House.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Walter de Montreal,” said Adrian, rising from his seat, and giving + vent to the indignation he had with difficulty suppressed, “I grieve much + that, beneath the roof of the first citizen of Rome, a stranger should + attempt thus calmly, and without interruption, to excite the ambition of + emulating the execrated celebrity of a Visconti or a Pepoli. Speak, my + Lord! (turning to Stephen)—speak, noble kinsman! and tell this + Knight of Provence, that if by a Colonna the ancient grandeur of Rome + cannot be restored, it shall not be, at least, by a Colonna that her last + wrecks of liberty shall be swept away.” + </p> + <p> + “How now, Adrian!—how now, sweet kinsman!” said Stephen, thus + suddenly appealed to, “calm thyself, I pr’ythee. Noble Sir Walter, he is + young—young, and hasty—he means not to offend thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Of that I am persuaded,” returned Montreal, coldly, but with great and + courteous command of temper. “He speaks from the impulse of the moment,—a + praiseworthy fault in youth. It was mine at his age, and many a time have + I nearly lost my life for the rashness. Nay, Signor, nay!—touch not + your sword so meaningly, as if you fancied I intimated a threat; far from + me such presumption. I have learned sufficient caution, believe me, in the + wars, not wantonly to draw against me a blade which I have seen wielded + against such odds.” + </p> + <p> + Touched, despite himself, by the courtesy of the Knight, and the allusion + to a scene in which, perhaps, his life had been preserved by Montreal, + Adrian extended his hand to the latter. + </p> + <p> + “I was to blame for my haste,” said he, frankly; “but know, by my very + heat,” he added more gravely, “that your project will find no friends + among the Colonna. Nay, in the presence of my noble kinsman, I dare to + tell you, that could even his high sanction lend itself to such a scheme, + the best hearts of his house would desert him; and I myself, his kinsman, + would man yonder castle against so unnatural an ambition!” + </p> + <p> + A slight and scarce perceptible cloud passed over Montreal’s countenance + at these words; and he bit his lip ere he replied: + </p> + <p> + “Yet if the Orsini be less scrupulous, their first exertion of power would + be heard in the crashing house of the Colonna.” + </p> + <p> + “Know you,” returned Adrian, “that one of our mottoes is this haughty + address to the Romans,—‘If we fall, ye fall also?’ And better that + fate, than a rise upon the wrecks of our native city.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, well!” said Montreal, reseating himself, “I see that I must + leave Rome to herself,—the League must thrive without her aid. I did + but jest, touching the Orsini, for they have not the power that would make + their efforts safe. Let us sweep, then, our past conference from our + recollection. It is the nineteenth, I think, Lord Colonna, on which you + propose to repair to Corneto, with your friends and retainers, and on + which you have invited my attendance?” + </p> + <p> + “It is on that day, Sir Knight,” replied the Baron, evidently much + relieved by the turn the conversation had assumed. “The fact is, that we + have been so charged with indifference to the interests of the good + people, that I strain a point in this expedition to contradict the + assertion; and we propose, therefore, to escort and protect, against the + robbers of the road, a convoy of corn to Corneto. In truth, I may add + another reason, besides fear of the robbers, that makes me desire as + numerous a train as possible. I wish to show my enemies, and the people + generally, the solid and growing power of my house; the display of such an + armed band as I hope to levy, will be a magnificent occasion to strike awe + into the riotous and refractory. Adrian, you will collect your servitors, + I trust, on that day; we would not be without you.” + </p> + <p> + “And as we ride along, fair Signor,” said Montreal, inclining to Adrian, + “we will find at least one subject on which we can agree: all brave men + and true knights have one common topic,—and its name is Woman. You + must make me acquainted with the names of the fairest dames of Rome; and + we will discuss old adventures in the Parliament of Love, and hope for + new. By the way, I suppose, Lord Adrian, you, with the rest of your + countrymen, are Petrarch-stricken?” + </p> + <p> + “Do you not share our enthusiasm? slur not so your gallantry, I pray you.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, we must not again disagree; but, by my halidame, I think one + troubadour roundel worth all that Petrarch ever wrote. He has but borrowed + from our knightly poesy, to disguise it, like a carpet coxcomb.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Adrian, gaily, “for every line of the troubadours that you + quote, I will cite you another. I will forgive you for injustice to + Petrarch, if you are just to the troubadours.” + </p> + <p> + “Just!” cried Montreal, with real enthusiasm: “I am of the land, nay the + very blood of the troubadour! But we grow too light for your noble + kinsman; and it is time for me to bid you, for the present, farewell. My + Lord Colonna, peace be with you; farewell, Sir Adrian,—brother mine + in knighthood,—remember your challenge.” + </p> + <p> + And with an easy and careless grace the Knight of St. John took his leave. + The old Baron, making a dumb sign of excuse to Adrian, followed Montreal + into the adjoining room. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Knight!” said he, “Sir Knight!” as he closed the door upon Adrian, + and then drew Montreal to the recess of the casement,—“a word in + your ear. Think not I slight your offer, but these young men must be + managed; the plot is great—noble,—grateful to my heart; but it + requires time and caution. I have many of my house, scrupulous as yon + hot-skull, to win over; the way is pleasant, but must be sounded well and + carefully; you understand?” + </p> + <p> + From under his bent brows, Montreal darted one keen glance at Stephen, and + then answered: + </p> + <p> + “My friendship for you dictated my offer. The League may stand without the + Colonna,—beware a time when the Colonna cannot stand without the + League. My Lord, look well around you; there are more freemen—ay, + bold and stirring ones, too—in Rome, than you imagine. Beware + Rienzi! Adieu, we meet soon again.” + </p> + <p> + Thus saying, Montreal departed, soliloquising as he passed with his + careless step through the crowded ante-room: + </p> + <p> + “I shall fail here!—these caitiff nobles have neither the courage to + be great, nor the wisdom to be honest. Let them fall!—I may find an + adventurer from the people, an adventurer like myself, worth them all.” + </p> + <p> + No sooner had Stephen returned to Adrian than he flung his arms + affectionately round his ward, who was preparing his pride for some sharp + rebuke for his petulance. + </p> + <p> + “Nobly feigned,—admirable, admirable!” cried the Baron; “you have + learned the true art of a statesman at the Emperor’s court. I always + thought you would—always said it. You saw the dilemma I was in, thus + taken by surprise by that barbarian’s mad scheme; afraid to refuse,—more + afraid to accept. You extricated me with consummate address: that passion,—so + natural to your age,—was a famous feint; drew off the attack; gave + me time to breathe; allowed me to play with the savage. But we must not + offend him, you know: all my retainers would desert me, or sell me to the + Orsini, or cut my throat, if he but held up his finger. Oh! it was + admirably managed, Adrian—admirably!” + </p> + <p> + “Thank Heaven!” said Adrian, with some difficulty recovering the breath + which his astonishment had taken away, “you do not think of embracing that + black proposition?” + </p> + <p> + “Think of it! no, indeed!” said Stephen, throwing himself back on his + chair. “Why, do you not know my age, boy? Hard on my ninetieth year, I + should be a fool indeed to throw myself into such a whirl of turbulence + and agitation. I want to keep what I have, not risk it by grasping more. + Am I not the beloved of the pope? shall I hazard his excommunication? Am I + not the most powerful of the nobles? should I be more if I were king? At + my age, to talk to me of such stuff!—the man’s an idiot. Besides,” + added the old man, sinking his voice, and looking fearfully round, “if I + were a king, my sons might poison me for the succession. They are good + lads, Adrian, very! But such a temptation!—I would not throw it in + their way; these grey hairs have experience! Tyrants don’t die a natural + death; no, no! Plague on the Knight, say I; he has already cast me into a + cold sweat.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian gazed on the working features of the old man, whose selfishness + thus preserved him from crime. He listened to his concluding words—full + of the dark truth of the times; and as the high and pure ambition of + Rienzi flashed upon him in contrast, he felt that he could not blame its + fervour, or wonder at its excess. + </p> + <p> + “And then, too,” resumed the Baron, speaking more deliberately as he + recovered his self-possession, “this man, by way of a warning, shows me, + at a glance, his whole ignorance of the state. What think you? he has + mingled with the mob, and taken their rank breath for power; yes, he + thinks words are soldiers, and bade me—me, Stephen Colonna—beware—of + whom, think you? No, you will never guess!—of that speech-maker, + Rienzi! my own old jesting guest! Ha! ha! ha!—the ignorance of these + barbarians! Ha! ha! ha! and the old man laughed till the tears ran down + his cheeks. + </p> + <p> + “Yet many of the nobles fear that same Rienzi,” said Adrian, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! let them, let them!—they have not our experience—our + knowledge of the world, Adrian. Tut, man,—when did declamation ever + overthrow castles, and conquer soldiery? I like Rienzi to harangue the mob + about old Rome, and such stuff; it gives them something to think of and + prate about, and so all their fierceness evaporates in words; they might + burn a house if they did not hear a speech. But, now I am on that score, I + must own the pedant has grown impudent in his new office; here, here,—I + received this paper ere I rose today. I hear a similar insolence has been + shown to all the nobles. Read it, will you,” and the Colonna put a scroll + into his kinsman’s hand. + </p> + <p> + “I have received the like,” said Adrian, glancing at it. “It is a request + of Rienzi’s to attend at the Church of St. John of Lateran, to hear + explained the inscription on a Table just discovered. It bears, he saith, + the most intimate connexion with the welfare and state of Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “Very entertaining, I dare to say, to professors and bookmen. Pardon me, + kinsman; I forgot your taste for these things; and my son, Gianni, too, + shares your fantasy. Well, well! it is innocent enough! Go—the man + talks well.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you not attend, too?” + </p> + <p> + “I—my dear boy—I!” said the old Colonna, opening his eyes in + such astonishment that Adrian could not help laughing at the simplicity of + his own question. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 2.II. The Interview, and the Doubt. + </h2> + <p> + As Adrian turned from the palace of his guardian, and bent his way in the + direction of the Forum, he came somewhat unexpectedly upon Raimond, bishop + of Orvietto, who, mounted upon a low palfrey, and accompanied by some + three or four of his waiting-men, halted abruptly when he recognised the + young noble. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my son! it is seldom that I see thee: how fares it with thee?—well? + So, so! I rejoice to hear it. Alas! what a state of society is ours, when + compared to the tranquil pleasures of Avignon! There, all men who, like + us, are fond of the same pursuits, the same studies, deliciae musarum, + hum! hum! (the Bishop was proud of an occasional quotation, right or + wrong), are brought easily and naturally together. But here we scarcely + dare stir out of our houses, save upon great occasions. But, talking of + great occasions, and the Muses, reminds me of our good Rienzi’s invitation + to the Lateran: of course you will attend; ‘tis a mighty knotty piece of + Latin he proposes to solve—so I hear, at least; very interesting to + us, my son,—very!” + </p> + <p> + “It is tomorrow,” answered Adrian. “Yes, assuredly; I will be there.” + </p> + <p> + “And, harkye, my son,” said the Bishop, resting his hand affectionately on + Adrian’s shoulder, “I have reason to hope that he will remind our poor + citizens of the Jubilee for the year Fifty, and stir them towards clearing + the road of the brigands: a necessary injunction, and one to be heeded + timeously; for who will come here for absolution when he stands a chance + of rushing unannealed upon purgatory by the way? You have heard Rienzi,—ay? + quite a Cicero—quite! Well, Heaven bless you, my son! You will not + fail?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, not I.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet, stay—a word with you: just suggest to all whom you may meet + the advisability of a full meeting; it looks well for the city to show + respect to letters.” + </p> + <p> + “To say nothing of the Jubilee,” added Adrian, smiling. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, to say nothing of the Jubilee—very good! Adieu for the + present!” And the Bishop, resettling himself on his saddle, ambled + solemnly on to visit his various friends, and press them to the meeting. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Adrian continued his course till he had passed the Capitol, the + Arch of Severus, the crumbling columns of the fane of Jupiter, and found + himself amidst the long grass, the whispering reeds, and the neglected + vines, that wave over the now-vanished pomp of the Golden House of Nero. + Seating himself on a fallen pillar—by that spot where the traveller + descends to the (so called) Baths of Livia—he looked impatiently to + the sun, as to blame it for the slowness of its march. + </p> + <p> + Not long, however, had he to wait before a light step was heard crushing + the fragrant grass; and presently through the arching vines gleamed a face + that might well have seemed the nymph, the goddess of the scene. + </p> + <p> + “My beautiful! my Irene!—how shall I thank thee!” + </p> + <p> + It was long before the delighted lover suffered himself to observe upon + Irene’s face a sadness that did not usually cloud it in his presence. Her + voice, too, trembled; her words seemed constrained and cold. + </p> + <p> + “Have I offended thee?” he asked; “or what less misfortune hath occurred?” + </p> + <p> + Irene raised her eyes to her lover’s, and said, looking at him earnestly, + “Tell me, my Lord, in sober and simple truth, tell me, would it grieve + thee much were this to be our last meeting?” + </p> + <p> + Paler than the marble at his feet grew the dark cheek of Adrian. It was + some moments ere he could reply, and he did so then with a forced smile + and a quivering lip. + </p> + <p> + “Jest not so, Irene! Last!—that is not a word for us!” + </p> + <p> + “But hear me, my Lord—” + </p> + <p> + “Why so cold?—call me Adrian!—friend!—lover! or be + dumb!” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, my soul’s soul! my all of hope! my life’s life!” exclaimed + Irene, passionately, “hear me! I fear that we stand at this moment upon + some gulf whose depth I see not, but which may divide us for ever! Thou + knowest the real nature of my brother, and dost not misread him as many + do. Long has he planned, and schemed, and communed with himself, and, + feeling his way amidst the people, prepared the path to some great design. + But now—(thou wilt not betray—thou wilt not injure him?—he + is thy friend!)” + </p> + <p> + “And thy brother! I would give my life for his! Say on!” + </p> + <p> + “But now, then,” resumed Irene, “the time for that enterprise, whatever it + be, is coming fast. I know not of its exact nature, but I know that it is + against the nobles—against thy order—against thy house itself! + If it succeed—oh, Adrian! thou thyself mayst not be free from + danger; and my name, at least, will be coupled with the name of thy foes. + If it fail,—my brother, my bold brother, is swept away! He will fall + a victim to revenge or justice, call it as you will. Your kinsman may be + his judge—his executioner; and I—even if I should yet live to + mourn over the boast and glory of my humble line—could I permit + myself to love, to see, one in whose veins flowed the blood of his + destroyer? Oh! I am wretched—wretched! these thoughts make me + well-nigh mad!” and, wringing her hands bitterly, Irene sobbed aloud. + </p> + <p> + Adrian himself was struck forcibly by the picture thus presented to him, + although the alternative it embraced had often before forced itself dimly + on his mind. It was true, however, that, not seeing the schemes of Rienzi + backed by any physical power, and never yet having witnessed the mighty + force of a moral revolution, he did not conceive that any rise to which he + might instigate the people could be permanently successful: and, as for + his punishment, in that city, where all justice was the slave of interest, + Adrian knew himself powerful enough to obtain forgiveness even for the + greatest of all crimes—armed insurrection against the nobles. As + these thoughts recurred to him, he gained the courage to console and cheer + Irene. But his efforts were only partially successful. Awakened by her + fears to that consideration of the future which hitherto she had + forgotten, Irene, for the first time, seemed deaf to the charmer’s voice. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said she, sadly, “even at the best, what can this love, that we + have so blindly encouraged—what can it end in? Thou must not wed + with one like me; and I! how foolish I have been!” + </p> + <p> + “Recall thy senses then, Irene,” said Adrian, proudly, partly perhaps in + anger, partly in his experience of the sex. “Love another, and more + wisely, if thou wilt; cancel thy vows with me, and continue to think it a + crime to love, and a folly to be true!” + </p> + <p> + “Cruel!” said Irene, falteringly, and in her turn alarmed. “Dost thou + speak in earnest?” + </p> + <p> + “Tell me, ere I answer you, tell me this: come death, come anguish, come a + whole life of sorrow, as the end of this love, wouldst thou yet repent + that thou hast loved? If so, thou knowest not the love that I feel for + thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Never! never can I repent!” said Irene, falling upon Adrian’s neck; + “forgive me!” + </p> + <p> + “But is there, in truth,” said Adrian, a little while after this + lover-like quarrel and reconciliation, “is there, in truth, so marked a + difference between thy brother’s past and his present bearing? How knowest + thou that the time for action is so near?” + </p> + <p> + “Because now he sits closeted whole nights with all ranks of men; he shuts + up his books,—he reads no more,—but, when alone, walks to and + fro his chamber, muttering to himself. Sometimes he pauses before the + calendar, which of late he has fixed with his own hand against the wall, + and passes his finger over the letters, till he comes to some chosen date, + and then he plays with his sword and smiles. But two nights since, arms, + too, in great number were brought to the house; and I heard the chief of + the men who brought them, a grim giant, known well amongst the people, + say, as he wiped his brow,—‘These will see work soon!’” + </p> + <p> + “Arms! Are you sure of that?” said Adrian, anxiously. “Nay, then, there is + more in these schemes than I imagined! But (observing Irene’s gaze bent + fearfully on him as his voice changed, he added, more gaily)—but + come what may, believe me—my beautiful! my adored! that while I + live, thy brother shall not suffer from the wrath he may provoke,—nor + I, though he forget our ancient friendship, cease to love thee less.” + </p> + <p> + “Signora! Signora! child! it is time! we must go!” said the shrill voice + of Benedetta, now peering through the foliage. “The working men pass home + this way; I see them approaching.” + </p> + <p> + The lovers parted; for the first time the serpent had penetrated into + their Eden,—they had conversed, they had thought, of other things + than Love. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 2.III. The Situation of a Popular Patrician in Times of Popular + </h2> + <p> + Discontent.—Scene of the Lateran. + </p> + <p> + The situation of a Patrician who honestly loves the people is, in those + evil times, when power oppresses and freedom struggles,—when the two + divisions of men are wrestling against each other,—the most irksome + and perplexing that destiny can possibly contrive. Shall he take part with + the nobles?—he betrays his conscience! With the people?—he + deserts his friends! But that consequence of the last alternative is not + the sole—nor, perhaps, to a strong mind, the most severe. All men + are swayed and chained by public opinion—it is the public judge; but + public opinion is not the same for all ranks. The public opinion that + excites or deters the plebeian, is the opinion of the plebeians,—of + those whom he sees, and meets, and knows; of those with whom he is brought + in contact,—those with whom he has mixed from childhood,—those + whose praises are daily heard,—whose censure frowns upon him with + every hour. (It is the same in still smaller divisions. The public opinion + for lawyers is that of lawyers; of soldiers, that of the army; of + scholars, it is that of men of literature and science. And to the + susceptible amongst the latter, the hostile criticism of learning has been + more stinging than the severest moral censures of the vulgar. Many a man + has done a great act, or composed a great work, solely to please the two + or three persons constantly present to him. Their voice was his public + opinion. The public opinion that operated on Bishop, the murderer, was the + opinion of the Burkers, his comrades. Did that condemn him? No! He knew no + other public opinion till he came to be hanged, and caught the loathing + eyes, and heard the hissing execrations of the crowd below his gibbet.) + So, also, the public opinion of the great is the opinion of their equals,—of + those whom birth and accident cast for ever in their way. This distinction + is full of important practical deductions; it is one which, more than most + maxims, should never be forgotten by a politician who desires to be + profound. It is, then, an ordeal terrible to pass—which few + plebeians ever pass, which it is therefore unjust to expect patricians to + cross unfaulteringly—the ordeal of opposing the public opinion which + exists for them. They cannot help doubting their own judgment,—they + cannot help thinking the voice of wisdom or of virtue speaks in those + sounds which have been deemed oracles from their cradle. In the tribunal + of Sectarian Prejudice they imagine they recognise the court of the + Universal Conscience. Another powerful antidote to the activity of a + patrician so placed, is in the certainty that to the last the motives of + such activity will be alike misconstrued by the aristocracy he deserts and + the people he joins. It seems so unnatural in a man to fly in the face of + his own order, that the world is willing to suppose any clue to the + mystery save that of honest conviction or lofty patriotism. “Ambition!” + says one. “Disappointment!” cries another. “Some private grudge!” hints a + third. “Mob-courting vanity!” sneers a fourth. The people admire at first, + but suspect afterwards. The moment he thwarts a popular wish, there is no + redemption for him: he is accused of having acted the hypocrite,—of + having worn the sheep’s fleece: and now, say they,—“See! the wolf’s + teeth peep out!” Is he familiar with the people?—it is cajolery! Is + he distant?—it is pride! What, then, sustains a man in such a + situation, following his own conscience, with his eyes opened to all the + perils of the path? Away with the cant of public opinion,—away with + the poor delusion of posthumous justice; he will offend the first, he will + never obtain the last. What sustains him? HIS OWN SOUL! A man thoroughly + great has a certain contempt for his kind while he aids them: their weal + or woe are all; their applause—their blame—are nothing to him. + He walks forth from the circle of birth and habit; he is deaf to the + little motives of little men. High, through the widest space his orbit may + describe, he holds on his course to guide or to enlighten; but the noises + below reach him not! Until the wheel is broken,—until the dark void + swallow up the star,—it makes melody, night and day, to its own ear: + thirsting for no sound from the earth it illumines, anxious for no + companionship in the path through which it rolls, conscious of its own + glory, and contented, therefore, to be alone! + </p> + <p> + But minds of this order are rare. All ages cannot produce them. They are + exceptions to the ordinary and human virtue, which is influenced and + regulated by external circumstance. At a time when even to be merely + susceptible to the voice of fame was a great pre-eminence in moral + energies over the rest of mankind, it would be impossible that any one + should ever have formed the conception of that more refined and + metaphysical sentiment, that purer excitement to high deeds—that + glory in one’s own heart, which is so immeasurably above the desire of a + renown that lackeys the heels of others. In fact, before we can dispense + with the world, we must, by a long and severe novitiate—by the + probation of much thought, and much sorrow—by deep and sad + conviction of the vanity of all that the world can give us, have raised + our selves—not in the fervour of an hour, but habitually—above + the world: an abstraction—an idealism—which, in our wiser age, + how few even of the wisest, can attain! Yet, till we are thus fortunate, + we know not the true divinity of contemplation, nor the all-sufficing + mightiness of conscience; nor can we retreat with solemn footsteps into + that Holy of Holies in our own souls, wherein we know, and feel, how much + our nature is capable of the self-existence of a God! + </p> + <p> + But to return to the things and thoughts of earth. Those considerations, + and those links of circumstance, which, in a similar situation have + changed so many honest and courageous minds, changed also the mind of + Adrian. He felt in a false position. His reason and conscience shared in + the schemes of Rienzi, and his natural hardihood and love of enterprise + would have led him actively to share the danger of their execution. But + this, all his associations, his friendships, his private and household + ties, loudly forbade. Against his order, against his house, against the + companions of his youth, how could he plot secretly, or act sternly? By + the goal to which he was impelled by patriotism, stood hypocrisy and + ingratitude. Who would believe him the honest champion of his country who + was a traitor to his friends? Thus, indeed, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “The native hue of resolution + Was sicklied o’er with the pale cast of thought!” + </pre> + <p> + And he who should have been by nature a leader of the time became only its + spectator. Yet Adrian endeavoured to console himself for his present + passiveness in a conviction of the policy of his conduct. He who takes no + share in the commencement of civil revolutions, can often become, with the + most effect, a mediator between the passions and the parties subsequently + formed. Perhaps, under Adrian’s circumstances, delay was really the part + of a prudent statesman; the very position which cripples at the first, + often gives authority before the end. Clear from the excesses, and saved + from the jealousies, of rival factions, all men are willing to look with + complaisance and respect to a new actor in a turbulent drama; his + moderation may make him trusted by the people; his rank enable him to be a + fitting mediator with the nobles; and thus the qualities that would have + rendered him a martyr at one period of the Revolution, raise him perhaps + into a saviour at another. + </p> + <p> + Silent, therefore, and passive, Adrian waited the progress of events. If + the projects of Rienzi failed, he might, by that in activity, the better + preserve the people from new chains, and their champion from death. If + those projects succeeded, he might equally save his house from the popular + wrath—and, advocating liberty, check disorder. Such, at least, were + his hopes; and thus did the Italian sagacity and caution of his character + control and pacify the enthusiasm of youth and courage. + </p> + <p> + The sun shone, calm and cloudless, upon the vast concourse gathered before + the broad space that surrounds the Church of St. John of Lateran. Partly + by curiosity—partly by the desire of the Bishop of Orvietto—partly + because it was an occasion in which they could display the pomp of their + retinues—many of the principal Barons of Rome had gathered to this + spot. + </p> + <p> + On one of the steps ascending to the church, with his mantle folded round + him, stood Walter de Montreal, gazing on the various parties that, one + after another, swept through the lane which the soldiers of the Church + preserved unimpeded, in the middle of the crowd, for the access of the + principal nobles. He watched with interest, though with his usual + carelessness of air and roving glance, the different marks and looks of + welcome given by the populace to the different personages of note. Banners + and penons preceded each Signor, and, as they waved aloft, the witticisms + or nicknames—the brief words of praise or censure, that imply so + much—which passed to and fro among that lively crowd, were treasured + carefully in his recollection. + </p> + <p> + “Make way, there!—way for my Lord Martino Orsini—Baron di + Porto!” + </p> + <p> + “Peace, minion!—draw back! way for the Signor Adrian Colonna, Baron + di Castello, and Knight of the Empire.” + </p> + <p> + And at those two rival shouts, you saw waving on high the golden bear of + the Orsini, with the motto—“Beware my embrace!” and the solitary + column on an azure ground, of the Colonna, with Adrian’s especial device—“Sad, + but strong.” The train of Martino Orsini was much more numerous than that + of Adrian, which last consisted but of ten servitors. But Adrian’s men + attracted far greater admiration amongst the crowd, and pleased more the + experienced eye of the warlike Knight of St. John. Their arms were + polished like mirrors; their height was to an inch the same; their march + was regular and sedate; their mien erect; they looked neither to the right + nor left; they betrayed that ineffable discipline—that harmony of + order—which Adrian had learned to impart to his men during his own + apprenticeship of arms. But the disorderly train of the Lord of Porto was + composed of men of all heights. Their arms were ill-polished and + ill-fashioned, and they pressed confusedly on each other; they laughed and + spoke aloud; and in their mien and bearing expressed all the insolence of + men who despised alike the master they served and the people they awed. + The two bands coming unexpectedly on each other through this narrow + defile, the jealousy of the two houses presently declared itself. Each + pressed forward for the precedence; and, as the quiet regularity of + Adrian’s train, and even its compact paucity of numbers, enabled it to + pass before the servitors of his rival, the populace set up a loud shout—“A + Colonna for ever!”—“Let the Bear dance after the Column!” + </p> + <p> + “On, ye knaves!” said Orsini aloud to his men. “How have ye suffered this + affront?” And passing himself to the head of his men, he would have + advanced through the midst of his rival’s train, had not a tall guard, in + the Pope’s livery, placed his baton in the way. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, my Lord! we have the Vicar’s express commands to suffer no + struggling of the different trains one with another.” + </p> + <p> + “Knave! dost thou bandy words with me?” said the fierce Orsini; and with + his sword he clove the baton in two. + </p> + <p> + “In the Vicar’s name, I command you to fall back!” said the sturdy guard, + now placing his huge bulk in the very front of the noble’s path. + </p> + <p> + “It is Cecco del Vecchio!” cried those of the populace, who were near + enough to perceive the interruption and its cause. + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said one, “the good Vicar has put many of the stoutest fellows in + the Pope’s livery, in order the better to keep peace. He could have chosen + none better than Cecco.” + </p> + <p> + “But he must not fall!” cried another, as Orsini, glaring on the smith, + drew back his sword as if to plunge it through his bosom. + </p> + <p> + “Shame—shame! shall the Pope be thus insulted in his own city?” + cried several voices. “Down with the sacrilegious—down!” And, as if + by a preconcerted plan, a whole body of the mob broke at once through the + lane, and swept like a torrent over Orsini and his jostled and + ill-assorted train. Orsini himself was thrown on the ground with violence, + and trampled upon by a hundred footsteps; his men, huddled and struggling + as much against themselves as against the mob, were scattered and overset; + and when, by a great effort of the guards, headed by the smith himself, + order was again restored, and the line reformed, Orsini, well nigh choked + with his rage and humiliation, and greatly bruised by the rude assaults he + had received, could scarcely stir from the ground. The officers of the + Pope raised him, and, when he was on his legs, he looked wildly around for + his sword, which, falling from his hand, had been kicked amongst the + crowd, and seeing it not, he said, between his ground teeth, to Cecco del + Vecchio— + </p> + <p> + “Fellow, thy neck shall answer this outrage, or may God desert me!” and + passed along through the space; while a half-suppressed and exultant hoot + from the bystanders followed his path. + </p> + <p> + “Way there!” cried the smith, “for the Lord Martino di Porto, and may all + the people know that he has threatened to take my life for the discharge + of my duty in obedience to the Pope’s Vicar!” + </p> + <p> + “He dare not!” shouted out a thousand voices; “the people can protect + their own!” + </p> + <p> + This scene had not been lost on the Provencal, who well knew how to + construe the wind by the direction of straws, and saw at once, by the + boldness of the populace, that they themselves were conscious of a coming + tempest. “Par Dieu,” said he, as he saluted Adrian, who, gravely, and + without looking behind, had now won the steps of the church, “yon tall + fellow has a brave heart, and many friends, too. What think you,” he + added, in a low whisper, “is not this scene a proof that the nobles are + less safe than they wot of?” + </p> + <p> + “The beast begins to kick against the spur, Sir Knight,” answered Adrian, + “a wise horseman should, in such a case, take care how he pull the rein + too tight, lest the beast should rear, and he be overthrown—yet that + is the policy thou wouldst recommend.” + </p> + <p> + “You mistake,” returned Montreal, “my wish was to give Rome one sovereign + instead of many tyrants,—but hark! what means that bell?” + </p> + <p> + “The ceremony is about to begin,” answered Adrian. “Shall we enter the + church together?” + </p> + <p> + Seldom had a temple consecrated to God witnessed so singular a spectacle + as that which now animated the solemn space of the Lateran. + </p> + <p> + In the centre of the church, seats were raised in an amphitheatre, at the + far end of which was a scaffolding, a little higher than the rest; below + this spot, but high enough to be in sight of all the concourse, was placed + a vast table of iron, on which was graven an ancient inscription, and + bearing in its centre a clear and prominent device, presently to be + explained. + </p> + <p> + The seats were covered with cloth and rich tapestry. In the rear of the + church was drawn a purple curtain. Around the amphitheatre were the + officers of the Church, in the party-coloured liveries of the Pope. To the + right of the scaffold sate Raimond, Bishop of Orvietto, in his robes of + state. On the benches round him you saw all the marked personages of Rome—the + judges, the men of letters, the nobles, from the lofty rank of the Savelli + to the inferior grade of a Raselli. The space beyond the amphitheatre was + filled with the people, who now poured fast in, stream after stream: all + the while rang, clear and loud, the great bell of the church. + </p> + <p> + At length, as Adrian and Montreal seated themselves at a little distance + from Raimond, the bell suddenly ceased—the murmurs of the people + were stilled—the purple curtain was withdrawn, and Rienzi came forth + with slow and majestic steps. He came—but not in his usual sombre + and plain attire. Over his broad breast he wore a vest of dazzling + whiteness—a long robe, in the ample fashion of the toga, descended + to his feet and swept the floor. On his head he wore a fold of white + cloth, in the centre of which shone a golden crown. But the crown was + divided, or cloven, as it were, by the mystic ornament of a silver sword, + which, attracting the universal attention, testified at once that this + strange garb was worn, not from the vanity of display, but for the sake of + presenting to the concourse—in the person of the citizen—a + type and emblem of that state of the city on which he was about to + descant. + </p> + <p> + “Faith,” whispered one of the old nobles to his neighbour, “the plebeian + assumes it bravely.” + </p> + <p> + “It will be rare sport,” said a second. “I trust the good man will put + some jests in his discourse.” + </p> + <p> + “What showman’s tricks are these?” said a third. + </p> + <p> + “He is certainly crazed!” said a fourth. + </p> + <p> + “How handsome he is!” said the women, mixed with the populace. + </p> + <p> + “This is a man who has learned the people by heart,” observed Montreal to + Adrian. “He knows he must speak to the eye, in order to win the mind: a + knave,—a wise knave!” + </p> + <p> + And now Rienzi had ascended the scaffold; and as he looked long and + steadfastly around the meeting, the high and thoughtful repose of his + majestic countenance, its deep and solemn gravity, hushed all the murmurs, + and made its effect equally felt by the sneering nobles as the impatient + populace. + </p> + <p> + “Signors of Rome,” said he, at length, “and ye, friends, and citizens, you + have heard why we are met together this day; and you, my Lord Bishop of + Orvietto,—and ye, fellow labourers with me in the field of letters,—ye, + too, are aware that it is upon some matter relative to that ancient Rome, + the rise and the decline of whose past power and glories we have spent our + youth in endeavouring to comprehend. But this, believe me, is no vain + enigma of erudition, useful but to the studious,—referring but to + the dead. Let the Past perish!—let darkness shroud it!—let it + sleep for ever over the crumbling temples and desolate tombs of its + forgotten sons,—if it cannot afford us, from its disburied secrets, + a guide for the Present and the Future. What, my Lords, ye have thought + that it was for the sake of antiquity alone that we have wasted our nights + and days in studying what antiquity can teach us! You are mistaken; it is + nothing to know what we have been, unless it is with the desire of knowing + that which we ought to be. Our ancestors are mere dust and ashes, save + when they speak to our posterity; and then their voices resound, not from + the earth below, but the heaven above. There is an eloquence in Memory, + because it is the nurse of Hope. There is a sanctity in the Past, but only + because of the chronicles it retains,—chronicles of the progress of + mankind,—stepping-stones in civilisation, in liberty, and in + knowledge. Our fathers forbid us to recede,—they teach us what is + our rightful heritage,—they bid us reclaim, they bid us augment, + that heritage,—preserve their virtues, and avoid their errors. These + are the true uses of the Past. Like the sacred edifice in which we are,—it + is a tomb upon which to rear a temple. I see that you marvel at this long + beginning; ye look to each other—ye ask to what it tends. Behold + this broad plate of iron; upon it is graven an inscription but lately + disinterred from the heaps of stone and ruin, which—O shame to Rome!—were + once the palaces of empire, and the arches of triumphant power. The device + in the centre of the table, which you behold, conveys the act of the Roman + Senators,—who are conferring upon Vespasian the imperial authority. + It is this inscription which I have invited you to hear read! It specifies + the very terms and limits of the authority thus conferred. To the Emperor + was confided the power of making laws and alliances with whatsoever + nation,—of increasing, or of diminishing the limits of towns and + districts,—of—mark this, my Lords!—exalting men to the + rank of dukes and kings,—ay, and of deposing and degrading them;—of + making cities, and of unmaking: in short, of all the attributes of + imperial power. Yes, to that Emperor was confided this vast authority; + but, by whom? Heed—listen, I pray you—let not a word be lost;—by + whom, I say? By the Roman Senate! What was the Roman Senate? The + Representative of the Roman People!” + </p> + <p> + “I knew he would come to that!” said the smith, who stood at the door with + his fellows, but to whose ear, clear and distinct, rolled the silver voice + of Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + “Brave fellow! and this, too, in the hearing of the Lords!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, you see what the people were! and we should never have known this but + for him.” + </p> + <p> + “Peace, fellows;” said the officer to those of the crowd, from whom came + these whispered sentences. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi continued.—“Yes, it is the people who intrusted this power—to + the people, therefore, it belongs! Did the haughty Emperor arrogate the + crown? Could he assume the authority of himself? Was it born with him? Did + he derive it, my Lord Barons, from the possession of towered castles—of + lofty lineage? No! all-powerful as he was, he had no right to one atom of + that power, save from the voice and trust of the Roman people. Such, O my + countrymen! such was even that day, when Liberty was but the shadow of her + former self,—such was the acknowledged prerogative of your fathers! + All power was the gift of the people. What have ye to give now? Who, who, + I say,—what single person, what petty chief, asks you for the + authority he assumes? His senate is his sword; his chart of license is + written, not with ink, but blood. The people!—there is no people! + Oh! would to God that we might disentomb the spirit of the Past as easily + as her records!” + </p> + <p> + “If I were your kinsman,” whispered Montreal to Adrian, “I would give this + man short breathing-time between his peroration and confession.” + </p> + <p> + “What is your Emperor?” continued Rienzi; “a stranger! What the great head + of your Church?—an exile! Ye are without your lawful chiefs; and + why? Because ye are not without your law-defying tyrants! The licence of + your nobles, their discords, their dissensions, have driven our Holy + Father from the heritage of St. Peter;—they have bathed your streets + in your own blood; they have wasted the wealth of your labours on private + quarrels and the maintenance of hireling ruffians! Your forces are + exhausted against yourselves. You have made a mockery of your country, + once the mistress of the world. You have steeped her lips in gall—ye + have set a crown of thorns upon her head! What, my Lords!” cried he, + turning sharply round towards the Savelli and Orsini, who, endeavouring to + shake off the thrill which the fiery eloquence of Rienzi had stricken to + their hearts, now, by contemptuous gestures and scornful smiles, testified + the displeasure they did not dare loudly to utter in the presence of the + Vicar and the people.—“What! even while I speak—not the + sanctity of this place restrains you! I am an humble man—a citizen + of Rome;—but I have this distinction: I have raised against myself + many foes and scoffers for that which I have done for Rome. I am hated, + because I love my country; I am despised, because I would exalt her. I + retaliate—I shall be avenged. Three traitors in your own palaces + shall betray you: their names are—Luxury, Envy, and Dissension!” + </p> + <p> + “There he had them on the hip!” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha! by the Holy Cross, that was good!” + </p> + <p> + “I would go to the hangman for such another keen stroke as that!” + </p> + <p> + “It is a shame if we are cowards, when one man is thus brave,” said the + smith. + </p> + <p> + “This is the man we have always wanted!” + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” proclaimed the officer. + </p> + <p> + “O Romans!” resumed Rienzi, passionately—“awake! I conjure you! Let + this memorial of your former power—your ancient liberties—sink + deep into your souls. In a propitious hour, if ye seize it,—in an + evil one, if ye suffer the golden opportunity to escape,—has this + record of the past been unfolded to your eyes. Recollect that the Jubilee + approaches.” + </p> + <p> + The Bishop of Orvietto smiled, and bowed approvingly; the people, the + citizens, the inferior nobles, noted well those signs of encouragement; + and, to their minds, the Pope himself, in the person of his Vicar, looked + benignly on the daring of Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + “The Jubilee approaches,—the eyes of all Christendom will be + directed hither. Here, where, from all quarters of the globe, men come for + peace, shall they find discord?—seeking absolution, shall they + perceive but crime? In the centre of God’s dominion, shall they weep at + your weakness?—in the seat of the martyred saints, shall they + shudder at your vices?—in the fountain and source of Christ’s law, + shall they find all law unknown? You were the glory of the world—will + you be its by-word? You were its example—will you be its warning? + Rise, while it is yet time!—clear your roads from the bandits that + infest them!—your walls from the hirelings that they harbour! Banish + these civil discords, or the men—how proud, how great, soever—who + maintain them! Pluck the scales from the hand of Fraud!—the sword + from the hand of Violence!—the balance and the sword are the ancient + attributes of Justice!—restore them to her again! This be your high + task,—these be your great ends! Deem any man who opposes them a + traitor to his country. Gain a victory greater than those of the Caesars—a + victory over yourselves! Let the pilgrims of the world behold the + resurrection of Rome! Make one epoch of the Jubilee of Religion and the + Restoration of Law! Lay the sacrifice of your vanquished passions—the + first-fruits of your renovated liberties—upon the very altar that + these walls contain! and never! oh, never! since the world began, shall + men have made a more grateful offering to their God!” + </p> + <p> + So intense was the sensation these words created in the audience—so + breathless and overpowered did they leave the souls with they took by + storm—that Rienzi had descended the scaffold, and already + disappeared behind the curtain from which he had emerged, ere the crowd + were fully aware that he had ceased. + </p> + <p> + The singularity of this sudden apparition—robed in mysterious + splendour, and vanishing the moment its errand was fulfilled—gave + additional effect to the words it had uttered. The whole character of that + bold address became invested with a something preternatural and inspired; + to the minds of the vulgar, the mortal was converted into the oracle; and, + marvelling at the unhesitating courage with which their idol had rebuked + and conjured the haughty barons,—each of whom they regarded in the + light of sanctioned executioners, whose anger could be made manifest at + once by the gibbet or the axe,—the people could not but + superstitiously imagine that nothing less than authority from above could + have gifted their leader with such hardihood, and preserved him from the + danger it incurred. In fact, it was in this very courage of Rienzi that + his safety consisted; he was placed in those circumstances where audacity + is prudence. Had he been less bold, the nobles would have been more + severe; but so great a license of speech in an officer of the Holy See, + they naturally imagined, was not unauthorised by the assent of the Pope, + as well as by the approbation of the people. Those who did not (like + Stephen Colonna) despise words as wind, shrank back from the task of + punishing one whose voice might be the mere echo of the wishes of the + pontiff. The dissensions of the nobles among each other, were no less + favourable to Rienzi. He attacked a body, the members of which had no + union. + </p> + <p> + “It is not my duty to slay him!” said one. + </p> + <p> + “I am not the representative of the barons!” said another. + </p> + <p> + “If Stephen Colonna heeds him not, it would be absurd, as well as + dangerous, in a meaner man to make himself the champion of the order!” + said a third. + </p> + <p> + The Colonna smiled approval, when Rienzi denounced an Orsini—an + Orsini laughed aloud, when the eloquence burst over a Colonna. The lesser + nobles were well pleased to hear attacks upon both: while, on the other + hand, the Bishop, by the long impunity of Rienzi, had taken courage to + sanction the conduct of his fellow-officer. He affected, indeed, at times, + to blame the excess of his fervour, but it was always accompanied by the + praises of his honesty; and the approbation of the Pope’s Vicar confirmed + the impression of the nobles as to the approbation of the Pope. Thus, from + the very rashness of his enthusiasm had grown his security and success. + </p> + <p> + Still, however, when the barons had a little recovered from the stupor + into which Rienzi had cast them, they looked round to each other; and + their looks confessed their sense of the insolence of the orator, and the + affront offered to themselves. + </p> + <p> + “Per fede!” quoth Reginaldo di Orsini, “this is past bearing,—the + plebeian has gone too far!” + </p> + <p> + “Look at the populace below! how they murmur and gape,—and how their + eyes sparkle—and what looks they bend at us!” said Luca di Savelli + to his mortal enemy, Castruccio Malatesta: the sense of a common danger + united in one moment, but only for a moment, the enmity of years. + </p> + <p> + “Diavolo!” muttered Raselli (Nina’s father) to a baron, equally poor, “but + the clerk has truth in his lips. ‘Tis a pity he is not noble.” + </p> + <p> + “What a clever brain marred!” said a Florentine merchant. “That man might + be something, if he were sufficiently rich.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian and Montreal were silent: the first seemed lost in thought,—the + last was watching the various effects produced upon the audience. + </p> + <p> + “Silence!” proclaimed the officers. “Silence, for my Lord Vicar.” + </p> + <p> + At this announcement, every eye turned to Raimond, who, rising with much + clerical importance, thus addressed the assembly:— + </p> + <p> + “Although, Barons and Citizens of Rome, my well-beloved flock, and + children,—I, no more than yourselves, anticipated the exact nature + of the address ye have just heard,—and, albeit, I cannot feel + unalloyed contentment at the manner, nor, I may say, at the whole matter + of that fervent exhortation—yet (laying great emphasis on the last + word), I cannot suffer you to depart without adding to the prayers of our + Holy Father’s servant, those, also, of his Holiness’s spiritual + representative. It is true! the Jubilee approaches! The Jubilee approaches—and + yet our roads, even to the gates of Rome, are infested with murderous and + godless ruffians! What pilgrim can venture across the Apennines to worship + at the altars of St. Peter? The Jubilee approaches: what scandal shall it + be to Rome if these shrines be without pilgrims—if the timid recoil + from, if the bold fall victims to, the dangers of the way! Wherefore, I + pray you all, citizens and chiefs alike,—I pray you all to lay aside + those unhappy dissensions which have so long consumed the strength of our + sacred city; and, uniting with each other in the ties of amity and + brotherhood, to form a blessed league against the marauders of the road. I + see amongst you, my Lords, many of the boasts and pillars of the state; + but, alas! I think with grief and dismay on the causeless and idle hatred + that has grown up between you!—a scandal to our city, and + reflecting, let me add, my Lords, no honour on your faith as Christians, + nor on your dignity as defenders of the Church.” + </p> + <p> + Amongst the inferior nobles—along the seats of the judges and the + men of letters—through the vast concourse of the people—ran a + loud murmur of approbations at these words. The greater barons looked + proudly, but not contemptuously, at the countenance of the prelate, and + preserved a strict and unrevealing silence. + </p> + <p> + “In this holy spot,” continued the Bishop, “let me beseech you to bury + those fruitless animosities which have already cost enough of blood and + treasure; and let us quit these walls with one common determination to + evince our courage and display our chivalry only against our universal + foes;—those ruffians who lay waste our fields, and infest our public + ways,—the foes alike of the people we should protect, and the God + whom we should serve!” + </p> + <p> + The Bishop resumed his seat; the nobles looked at each other without + reply; the people began to whisper loudly among themselves; when, after a + short pause, Adrian di Castello rose. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, my Lords, and you, reverend Father, if I, inexperienced in + years and of little mark or dignity amongst you, presume to be the first + to embrace the proposal we have just heard. Willingly do I renounce all + ancient cause of enmity with any of my compeers. Fortunately for me, my + long absence from Rome has swept from my remembrance the feuds and + rivalries familiar to my early youth; and in this noble conclave I see but + one man (glancing at Martino di Porto, who sat sullenly looking down) + against whom I have, at any time, deemed it a duty to draw my sword; the + gage that I once cast to that noble is yet, I rejoice to think, + unredeemed. I withdraw it. Henceforth my only foes shall be the foes of + Rome!” + </p> + <p> + “Nobly spoken!” said the Bishop, aloud. + </p> + <p> + “And,” continued Adrian, casting down his glove amongst the nobles, “I + throw, my Lords, the gage, thus resumed, amongst you all, in challenge to + a wider rivalry, and a more noble field. I invite any man to vie with me + in the zeal that he shall show to restore tranquillity to our roads, and + order to our state. It is a contest in which, if I be vanquished with + reluctance, I will yield the prize without envy. In ten days from this + time, reverend Father, I will raise forty horsemen-at-arms, ready to obey + whatever orders shall be agreed upon for the security of the Roman state. + And you, O Romans, dismiss, I pray you, from your minds, those eloquent + invectives against your fellow-citizens which ye have lately heard. All of + us, of what rank soever, may have shared in the excesses of these unhappy + times; let us endeavour, not to avenge nor to imitate, but to reform and + to unite. And may the people hereafter find, that the true boast of a + patrician is, that his power the better enables him to serve his country.” + </p> + <p> + “Brave words!” quoth the smith, sneeringly. + </p> + <p> + “If they were all like him!” said the smith’s neighbour. + </p> + <p> + “He has helped the nobles out of a dilemma,” said Pandulfo. + </p> + <p> + “He has shown grey wit under young hairs,” said an aged Malatesta. + </p> + <p> + “You have turned the tide, but not stemmed it, noble Adrian,” whispered + the ever-boding Montreal, as, amidst the murmurs of the general + approbation, the young Colonna resumed his seat. + </p> + <p> + “How mean you?” said Adrian. + </p> + <p> + “That your soft words, like all patrician conciliations, have come too + late.” + </p> + <p> + Not another noble stirred, though they felt, perhaps, disposed to join in + the general feeling of amnesty, and appeared, by signs and whispers, to + applaud the speech of Adrian. They were too habituated to the + ungracefulness of an unlettered pride, to bow themselves to address + conciliating language either to the people or their foes. And Raimond, + glancing round, and not willing that their unseemly silence should be long + remarked, rose at once, to give it the best construction in his power. + </p> + <p> + “My son, thou hast spoken as a patriot and a Christian; by the approving + silence of your peers we all feel that they share your sentiments. Break + we up the meeting—its end is obtained. The manner of our proceeding + against the leagued robbers of the road requires maturer consideration + elsewhere. This day shall be an epoch in our history.” + </p> + <p> + “It shall,” quoth Cecco del Vecchio, gruffly, between his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “Children, my blessing upon you all!” concluded the Vicar, spreading his + arms. + </p> + <p> + And in a few minutes more the crowd poured from the church. The different + servitors and flag-bearers ranged themselves on the steps without, each + train anxious for their master’s precedence; and the nobles, gravely + collecting in small knots, in the which was no mixture of rival blood, + followed the crowd down the aisles. Soon rose again the din, and the + noise, and the wrangling, and the oaths, of the hostile bands, as, with + pain and labour, the Vicar’s officers marshalled them in “order most + disorderly.” + </p> + <p> + But so true were Montreal’s words to Adrian, that the populace already + half forgot the young noble’s generous appeal, and were only bitterly + commenting on the ungracious silence of his brother Lords. What, too, to + them was this crusade against the robbers of the road? They blamed the + good Bishop for not saying boldly to the nobles—“Ye are the first + robbers we must march against!” The popular discontents had gone far + beyond palliatives; they had arrived at that point when the people longed + less for reform than change. There are times when a revolution cannot be + warded off; it must come—come alike by resistance or by concession. + Wo to that race in which a revolution produces no fruits!—in which + the thunderbolt smites the high place, but does not purify the air! To + suffer in vain is often the lot of the noblest individuals; but when a + People suffer in vain, let them curse themselves! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 2.IV. The Ambitious Citizen, and the Ambitious Soldier. + </h2> + <p> + The Bishop of Orvietto lingered last, to confer with Rienzi, who awaited + him in the recesses of the Lateran. Raimond had the penetration not to be + seduced into believing that the late scene could effect any reformation + amongst the nobles, heal their divisions, or lead them actively against + the infestors of the Campagna. But, as he detailed to Rienzi all that had + occurred subsequent to the departure of that hero of the scene, he + concluded with saying:— + </p> + <p> + “You will perceive from this, one good result will be produced: the first + armed dissension—the first fray among the nobles—will seem + like a breach of promise; and, to the people and to the Pope, a reasonable + excuse for despairing of all amendment amongst the Barons,—an excuse + which will sanction the efforts of the first, and the approval of the + last.” + </p> + <p> + “For such a fray we shall not long wait,” answered Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + “I believe the prophecy,” answered Raimond, smiling; “at present all runs + well. Go you with us homeward?” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, I think it better to tarry here till the crowd is entirely + dispersed; for if they were to see me, in their present excitement, they + might insist on some rash and hasty enterprise. Besides, my Lord,” added + Rienzi, “with an ignorant people, however honest and enthusiastic, this + rule must be rigidly observed—stale not your presence by custom. + Never may men like me, who have no external rank, appear amongst the + crowd, save on those occasions when the mind is itself a rank.” + </p> + <p> + “That is true, as you have no train,” answered Raimond, thinking of his + own well-liveried menials. “Adieu, then! we shall meet soon.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, at Philippi, my Lord. Reverend Father, your blessing!” + </p> + <p> + It was some time subsequent to this conference that Rienzi quitted the + sacred edifice. As he stood on the steps of the church—now silent + and deserted—the hour that precedes the brief twilight of the South + lent its magic to the view. There he beheld the sweeping arches of the + mighty Aqueduct extending far along the scene, and backed by the distant + and purpled hills. Before—to the right—rose the gate which + took its Roman name from the Coelian Mount, at whose declivity it yet + stands. Beyond—from the height of the steps—he saw the + villages scattered through the grey Campagna, whitening in the sloped sun; + and in the furthest distance the mountain shadows began to darken over the + roofs of the ancient Tusculum, and the second Alban (The first Alba—the + Alba Longa—whose origin Fable ascribes to Ascanius, was destroyed by + Tullus Hostilius. The second Alba, or modern Albano, was erected on the + plain below the ancient town, a little before the time of Nero.) city, + which yet rises, in desolate neglect, above the vanished palaces of Pompey + and Domitian. + </p> + <p> + The Roman stood absorbed and motionless for some moments, gazing on the + scene, and inhaling the sweet balm of the mellow air. It was the soft + springtime—the season of flowers, and green leaves, and whispering + winds—the pastoral May of Italia’s poets: but hushed was the voice + of song on the banks of the Tiber—the reeds gave music no more. From + the sacred Mount in which Saturn held his home, the Dryad and the Nymph, + and Italy’s native Sylvan, were gone for ever. Rienzi’s original nature—its + enthusiasm—its veneration for the past—its love of the + beautiful and the great—that very attachment to the graces and pomp + which give so florid a character to the harsh realities of life, and which + power afterwards too luxuriantly developed; the exuberance of thoughts and + fancies, which poured itself from his lips in so brilliant and + inexhaustible a flood—all bespoke those intellectual and imaginative + biasses, which, in calmer times, might have raised him in literature to a + more indisputable eminence than that to which action can ever lead; and + something of such consciousness crossed his spirit at that moment. + </p> + <p> + “Happier had it been for me,” thought he, “had I never looked out from my + own heart upon the world. I had all within me that makes contentment of + the present, because I had that which can make me forget the present. I + had the power to re-people—to create: the legends and dreams of old—the + divine faculty of verse, in which the beautiful superfluities of the heart + can pour themselves—these were mine! Petrarch chose wisely for + himself! To address the world, but from without the world; to persuade—to + excite—to command,—for these are the aim and glory of + ambition;—but to shun its tumult, and its toil! His the quiet cell + which he fills with the shapes of beauty—the solitude, from which he + can banish the evil times whereon we are fallen, but in which he can dream + back the great hearts and the glorious epochs of the past. For me—to + what cares I am wedded! to what labours I am bound! what instruments I + must use! what disguises I must assume! to tricks and artifice I must bow + my pride! base are my enemies—uncertain my friends! and verily, in + this struggle with blinded and mean men, the soul itself becomes warped + and dwarfish. Patient and darkling, the Means creep through caves and the + soiling mire, to gain at last the light which is the End.” + </p> + <p> + In these reflections there was a truth, the whole gloom and sadness of + which the Roman had not yet experienced. However august be the object we + propose to ourselves, every less worthy path we take to insure it distorts + the mental sight of our ambition; and the means, by degrees, abase the end + to their own standard. This is the true misfortune of a man nobler than + his age—that the instruments he must use soil himself: half he + reforms his times; but half, too, the times will corrupt the reformer. His + own craft undermines his safety;—the people, whom he himself + accustoms to a false excitement, perpetually crave it; and when their + ruler ceases to seduce their fancy, he falls their victim. The reform he + makes by these means is hollow and momentary—it is swept away with + himself: it was but the trick—the show—the wasted genius of a + conjuror: the curtain falls—the magic is over—the cup and + balls are kicked aside. Better one slow step in enlightenment,—which + being made by the reason of a whole people, cannot recede,—than + these sudden flashes in the depth of the general night, which the + darkness, by contrast doubly dark, swallows up everlastingly again! + </p> + <p> + As, slowly and musingly, Rienzi turned to quit the church, he felt a light + touch upon his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Fair evening to you, Sir Scholar,” said a frank voice. + </p> + <p> + “To you, I return the courtesy,” answered Rienzi, gazing upon the person + who thus suddenly accosted him, and in whose white cross and martial + bearing the reader recognises the Knight of St. John. + </p> + <p> + “You know me not, I think?” said Montreal; “but that matters little, we + may easily commence our acquaintance: for me, indeed, I am fortunate + enough to have made myself already acquainted with you.” + </p> + <p> + “Possibly we have met elsewhere, at the house of one of those nobles to + whose rank you seem to belong?” + </p> + <p> + “Belong! no, not exactly!” returned Montreal, proudly. “Highborn and great + as your magnates deem themselves, I would not, while the mountains can + yield one free spot for my footstep, change my place in the world’s many + grades for theirs. To the brave, there is but one sort of plebeian, and + that is the coward. But you, sage Rienzi,” continued the Knight, in a + gayer tone, “I have seen in more stirring scenes than the hall of a Roman + Baron.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi glanced keenly at Montreal, who met his eye with an open brow. + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” resumed the Knight—“but let us walk on; suffer me for a few + moments to be your companion. Yes! I have listened to you—the other + eve, when you addressed the populace, and today, when you rebuked the + nobles; and at midnight, too, not long since, when (your ear, fair Sir!—lower, + it is a secret!)—at midnight, too, when you administered the oath of + brotherhood to the bold conspirators, on the ruined Aventine!” + </p> + <p> + As he concluded, the Knight drew himself aside to watch, upon Rienzi’s + countenance, the effect which his words might produce. + </p> + <p> + A slight tremor passed over the frame of the conspirator—for so, + unless the conspiracy succeed, would Rienzi be termed, by others than + Montreal: he turned abruptly round to confront the Knight, and placed his + hand involuntarily on his sword, but presently relinquished the grasp. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” said the Roman, slowly, “if this be true, fall Rome! There is + treason even among the free!” + </p> + <p> + “No treason, brave Sir!” answered Montreal; “I possess thy secret—but + none have betrayed it to me.” + </p> + <p> + “And is it as friend or foe that thou hast learned it?” + </p> + <p> + “That as it may be,” returned Montreal, carelessly. “Enough, at present, + that I could send thee to the gibbet, if I said but the word,—to + show my power to be thy foe; enough, that I have not done it, to prove my + disposition to be thy friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou mistakest, stranger! that man does not live who could shed my blood + in the streets of Rome! The gibbet! Little dost thou know of the power + which surrounds Rienzi.” + </p> + <p> + These words were said with some scorn and bitterness; but, after a + moment’s pause, Rienzi resumed, more calmly:— + </p> + <p> + “By the cross on thy mantle, thou belongest to one of the proudest orders + of knighthood: thou art a foreigner, and a cavalier. What generous + sympathies can convert thee into a friend of the Roman people?” + </p> + <p> + “Cola di Rienzi,” returned Montreal, “the sympathies that unite us are + those which unite all men who, by their own efforts, rise above the herd. + True, I was born noble—but powerless and poor: at my beck now move, + from city to city, the armed instruments of authority: my breath is the + law of thousands. This empire I have not inherited; I won it by a cool + brain and a fearless arm. Know me for Walter de Montreal; is it not a name + that speaks a spirit kindred to thine own? Is not ambition a common + sentiment between us? I do not marshal soldiers for gain only, though men + have termed me avaricious—nor butcher peasants for the love of + blood, though men have called me cruel. Arms and wealth are the sinews of + power; it is power that I desire;—thou, bold Rienzi, strugglest thou + not for the same? Is it the rank breath of the garlic-chewing mob—is + it the whispered envy of schoolmen—is it the hollow mouthing of boys + who call thee patriot and freeman, words to trick the ear—that will + content thee? These are but thy instruments to power. Have I spoken + truly?” + </p> + <p> + Whatever distaste Rienzi might conceive at this speech he masked + effectually. “Certes,” said he, “it would be in vain, renowned Captain, to + deny that I seek but that power of which thou speakest. But what union can + there be between the ambition of a Roman citizen and the leader of paid + armies that take their cause only according to their hire—today, + fight for liberty in Florence—tomorrow, for tyranny in Bologna? + Pardon my frankness; for in this age that is deemed no disgrace which I + impute to thy armies. Valour and generalship are held to consecrate any + cause they distinguish; and he who is the master of princes, may be well + honoured by them as their equal.” + </p> + <p> + “We are entering into a less deserted quarter of the town,” said the + Knight; “is there no secret place—no Aventine—in this + direction, where we can confer?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” replied Rienzi, cautiously looking round. “I thank thee, noble + Montreal, for the hint; nor may it be well for us to be seen together. + Wilt thou deign to follow me to my home, by the Palatine Bridge? (The + picturesque ruins shown at this day as having once been the habitation of + the celebrated Cola di Rienzi, were long asserted by the antiquarians to + have belonged to another Cola or Nicola. I believe, however, that the + dispute has been lately decided: and, indeed, no one but an antiquary, and + that a Roman one, could suppose that there were two Colas to whom the + inscription on the house would apply.) there we can converse undisturbed + and secure.” + </p> + <p> + “Be it so,” said Montreal, falling back. + </p> + <p> + With a quick and hurried step, Rienzi passed through the town, in which, + wherever he was discovered, the scattered citizens saluted him with marked + respect; and, turning through a labyrinth of dark alleys, as if to shun + the more public thoroughfares, arrived at length at a broad space near the + river. The first stars of night shone down on the ancient temple of + Fortuna Virilis, which the chances of Time had already converted into the + Church of St. Mary of Egypt; and facing the twice-hallowed edifice stood + the house of Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + “It is a fair omen to have my mansion facing the ancient Temple of + Fortune,” said Rienzi, smiling, as Montreal followed the Roman into the + chamber I have already described. + </p> + <p> + “Yet Valour need never pray to Fortune,” said the Knight; “the first + commands the last.” + </p> + <p> + Long was the conference between these two men, the most enterprising of + their age. Meanwhile, let me make the reader somewhat better acquainted + with the character and designs of Montreal, than the hurry of events has + yet permitted him to become. + </p> + <p> + Walter de Montreal, generally known in the chronicles of Italy by the + designation of Fra Moreale, had passed into Italy—a bold adventurer, + worthy to become a successor of those roving Normans (from one of the most + eminent of whom, by the mother’s side, he claimed descent) who had + formerly played so strange a part in the chivalric errantry of Europe,—realizing + the fables of Amadis and Palmerin—(each knight, in himself a host), + winning territories and oversetting thrones; acknowledging no laws save + those of knighthood; never confounding themselves with the tribe amongst + which they settled; incapable of becoming citizens, and scarcely contented + with aspiring to be kings. At that time, Italy was the India of all those + well-born and penniless adventurers who, like Montreal, had inflamed their + imagination by the ballads and legends of the Roberts and the Godfreys of + old; who had trained themselves from youth to manage the barb, and bear, + through the heats of summer, the weight of arms; and who, passing into am + effeminate and distracted land, had only to exhibit bravery in order to + command wealth. It was considered no disgrace for some powerful chieftain + to collect together a band of these hardy aliens,—to subsist amidst + the mountains on booty and pillage,—to make war upon tyrant or + republic, as interest suggested, and to sell, at enormous stipends, the + immunities of peace. Sometimes they hired themselves to one state to + protect it against the other; and the next year beheld them in the field + against their former employers. These bands of Northern stipendiaries + assumed, therefore, a civil, as well as a military, importance; they were + as indispensable to the safety of one state as they were destructive to + the security of all. But five years before the present date, the + Florentine Republic had hired the services of a celebrated leader of these + foreign soldiers,—Gualtier, duke of Athens. By acclamation, the + people themselves had elected that warrior to the state of prince, or + tyrant, of their state; before the year was completed, they revolted + against his cruelties, or rather against his exactions,—for, despite + all the boasts of their historians, they felt an attack on their purses + more deeply than an assault on their liberties,—they had chased him + from their city, and once more proclaimed themselves a Republic. The + bravest, and most favoured of the soldiers of the Duke of Athens had been + Walter de Montreal; he had shared the rise and the downfall of his chief. + Amongst popular commotions, the acute and observant mind of the Knight of + St. John had learned no mean civil experience; he had learned to sound a + people—to know how far they would endure—to construe the signs + of revolution—to be a reader of the times. After the downfall of the + Duke of Athens, as a Free Companion, in other words a Freebooter, Montreal + had augmented under the fierce Werner his riches and his renown. At + present without employment worthy his spirit of enterprise and intrigue, + the disordered and chiefless state of Rome had attracted him thither. In + the league he had proposed to Colonna—in the suggestions he had made + to the vanity of that Signor—his own object was to render his + services indispensable—to constitute himself the head of the + soldiery whom his proposed designs would render necessary to the ambition + of the Colonna, could it be excited—and, in the vastness of his + hardy genius for enterprise, he probably foresaw that the command of such + a force would be, in reality, the command of Rome;—a + counter-revolution might easily unseat the Colonna and elect himself to + the principality. It had sometimes been the custom of Roman, as of other + Italian, States, to prefer for a chief magistrate, under the title of + Podesta, a foreigner to a native. And Montreal hoped that he might + possibly become to Rome what the Duke of Athens had been to Florence—an + ambition he knew well enough to be above the gentleman of Provence, but + not above the leader of an army. But, as we have already seen, his + sagacity perceived at once that he could not move the aged head of the + patricians to those hardy and perilous measures which were necessary to + the attainment of supreme power. Contented with his present station, and + taught moderation by his age and his past reverses, Stephen Colonna was + not the man to risk a scaffold from the hope to gain a throne. The + contempt which the old patrician professed for the people, and their idol, + also taught the deep-thinking Montreal that, if the Colonna possessed not + the ambition, neither did he possess the policy, requisite for empire. The + Knight found his caution against Rienzi in vain, and he turned to Rienzi + himself. Little cared the Knight of St. John which party were uppermost—prince + or people—so that his own objects were attained; in fact, he had + studied the humours of a people, not in order to serve, but to rule them; + and, believing all men actuated by a similar ambition, he imagined that, + whether a demagogue or a patrician reigned, the people were equally to be + victims, and that the cry of “Order” on the one hand, or of “Liberty” on + the other, was but the mere pretext by which the energy of one man sought + to justify his ambition over the herd. Deeming himself one of the most + honourable spirits of his age, he believed in no honour which he was + unable to feel; and, sceptic in virtue, was therefore credulous of vice. + </p> + <p> + But the boldness of his own nature inclined him, perhaps, rather to the + adventurous Rienzi than to the self-complacent Colonna; and he considered + that to the safety of the first he and his armed minions might be even + more necessary than to that of the last. At present his main object was to + learn from Rienzi the exact strength which he possessed, and how far he + was prepared for any actual revolt. + </p> + <p> + The acute Roman took care, on the one hand, how he betrayed to the Knight + more than he yet knew, or he disgusted him by apparent reserve on the + other. Crafty as Montreal was, he possessed not that wonderful art of + mastering others which was so preeminently the gift of the eloquent and + profound Rienzi, and the difference between the grades of their intellect + was visible in their present conference. + </p> + <p> + “I see,” said Rienzi, “that amidst all the events which have lately smiled + upon my ambition, none is so favourable as that which assures me of your + countenance and friendship. In truth, I require some armed alliance. Would + you believe it, our friends, so bold in private meetings, yet shrink from + a public explosion. They fear not the patricians, but the soldiery of the + patricians; for it is the remarkable feature in the Italian courage, that + they have no terror for each other, but the casque and sword of a foreign + hireling make them quail like deer.” + </p> + <p> + “They will welcome gladly, then, the assurance that such hirelings shall + be in their service—not against them; and as much as you desire for + the revolution, so many shall you receive.” + </p> + <p> + “But the pay and the conditions,” said Rienzi, with his dry, sarcastic + smile. “How shall we arrange the first, and what shall we hold to be the + second?” + </p> + <p> + “That is an affair easily concluded,” replied Montreal. “For me, to tell + you frankly, the glory and excitement of so great a revulsion would alone + suffice. I like to feel myself necessary to the completion of high events. + For my men it is otherwise. Your first act will be to seize the revenues + of the state. Well, whatever they amount to, the product of the first + year, great or small, shall be divided amongst us. You the one half, I and + my men the other half.” + </p> + <p> + “It is much,” said Rienzi, gravely, and as if in calculation,—“but + Rome cannot purchase her liberties too dearly. So be it then decided.” + </p> + <p> + “Amen!—and now, then, what is your force? for these eighty or a + hundred signors of the Aventine,—worthy men, doubtless,—scarce + suffice for a revolt!” + </p> + <p> + Gazing cautiously round the room, the Roman placed his hand on Montreal’s + arm— + </p> + <p> + “Between you and me, it requires time to cement it. We shall be unable to + stir these five weeks. I have too rashly anticipated the period. The corn + is indeed cut, but I must now, by private adjuration and address, bind up + the scattered sheaves.” + </p> + <p> + “Five weeks,” repeated Montreal; “that is far longer than I anticipated.” + </p> + <p> + “What I desire,” continued Rienzi, fixing his searching eyes upon + Montreal, “is, that, in the meanwhile, we should preserve a profound calm,—we + should remove every suspicion. I shall bury myself in my studies, and + convoke no more meetings.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—” + </p> + <p> + “And for yourself, noble Knight, might I venture to dictate, I would pray + you to mix with the nobles—to profess for me and for the people the + profoundest contempt—and to contribute to rock them yet more in the + cradle of their false security. Meanwhile, you could quietly withdraw as + many of the armed mercenaries as you influence from Rome, and leave the + nobles without their only defenders. Collecting these hardy warriors in + the recesses of the mountains, a day’s march from hence, we may be able to + summon them at need, and they shall appear at our gates, and in the midst + of our rising—hailed as deliverers by the nobles, but in reality + allies with the people. In the confusion and despair of our enemies at + discovering their mistake, they will fly from the city.” + </p> + <p> + “And its revenues and its empire will become the appanage of the hardy + soldier and the intriguing demagogue!” cried Montreal, with a laugh. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Knight, the division shall be equal.” + </p> + <p> + “Agreed!” + </p> + <p> + “And now, noble Montreal, a flask of our best vintage!” said Rienzi, + changing his tone. + </p> + <p> + “You know the Provencals,” answered Montreal, gaily. + </p> + <p> + The wine was brought, the conversation became free and familiar, and + Montreal, whose craft was acquired, and whose frankness was natural, + unwittingly committed his secret projects and ambition more nakedly to + Rienzi than he had designed to do. They parted apparently the best of + friends. + </p> + <p> + “By the way,” said Rienzi, as they drained the last goblet. “Stephen + Colonna betakes him to Corneto, with a convoy of corn, on the 19th. Will + it not be as well if you join him? You can take that opportunity to + whisper discontent to the mercenaries that accompany him on his mission, + and induce them to our plan.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought of that before,” returned Montreal; “it shall be done. For the + present, farewell!” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘His barb, and his sword, + And his lady, the peerless, + Are all that are prized + By Orlando the fearless. + + “‘Success to the Norman, + The darling of story; + His glory is pleasure— + His pleasure is glory.’” + </pre> + <p> + Chanting this rude ditty as he resumed his mantle, the Knight waved his + hand to Rienzi, and departed. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi watched the receding form of his guest with an expression of hate + and fear upon his countenance. “Give that man the power,” he muttered, + “and he may be a second Totila. (Innocent VI., some years afterwards, + proclaimed Montreal to be worse than Totila.) Methinks I see, in his + griping and ferocious nature,—through all the gloss of its gaiety + and knightly grace,—the very personification of our old Gothic foes. + I trust I have lulled him! Verily, two suns could no more blaze in one + hemisphere, than Walter de Montreal and Cola di Rienzi live in the same + city. The star-seers tell us that we feel a secret and uncontrollable + antipathy to those whose astral influences destine them to work us evil; + such antipathy do I feel for yon fair-faced homicide. Cross not my path, + Montreal!—cross not my path!” + </p> + <p> + With this soliloquy Rienzi turned within, and, retiring to his apartment, + was seen no more that night. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 2.V. The Procession of the Barons.—The Beginning of the End. + </h2> + <p> + It was the morning of the 19th of May, the air was brisk and clear, and + the sun, which had just risen, shone cheerily upon the glittering casques + and spears of a gallant procession of armed horsemen, sweeping through the + long and principal street of Rome. The neighing of the horses, the ringing + of the hoofs, the dazzle of the armour, and the tossing to and fro of the + standards, adorned with the proud insignia of the Colonna, presented one + of the gay and brilliant spectacles peculiar to the middle ages. + </p> + <p> + At the head of the troop, on a stout palfrey, rode Stephen Colonna. At his + right was the Knight of Provence, curbing, with an easy hand, a slight, + but fiery steed of the Arab race: behind him followed two squires, the one + leading his war-horse, the other bearing his lance and helmet. At the left + of Stephen Colonna rode Adrian, grave and silent, and replying only by + monosyllables to the gay bavardage of the Knight of Provence. A + considerable number of the flower of the Roman nobles followed the old + Baron; and the train was closed by a serried troop of foreign horsemen, + completely armed. + </p> + <p> + There was no crowd in the street,—the citizens looked with seeming + apathy at the procession from their half-closed shops. + </p> + <p> + “Have these Romans no passion for shows?” asked Montreal; “if they could + be more easily amused they would be more easily governed.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Rienzi, and such buffoons, amuse them. We do better,—we + terrify!” replied Stephen. + </p> + <p> + “What sings the troubadour, Lord Adrian?” said Montreal. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “‘Smiles, false smiles, should form the school + For those who rise, and those who rule: + The brave they trick, and fair subdue, + Kings deceive, the States undo. + Smiles, false smiles! + + “‘Frowns, true frowns, ourselves betray, + The brave arouse, the fair dismay, + Sting the pride, which blood must heal, + Mix the bowl, and point the steel. + Frowns, true frowns!’ +</pre> + <p> + “The lay is of France, Signor; yet methinks it brings its wisdom from + Italy;—for the serpent smile is your countrymen’s proper + distinction, and the frown ill becomes them.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Knight,” replied Adrian, sharply, and incensed at the taunt, “you + Foreigners have taught us how to frown:—a virtue sometimes.” + </p> + <p> + “But not wisdom, unless the hand could maintain what the brow menaced,” + returned Montreal, with haughtiness; for he had much of the Franc vivacity + which often overcame his prudence; and he had conceived a secret pique + against Adrian since their interview at Stephen’s palace. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Knight,” answered Adrian, colouring, “our conversation may lead to + warmer words than I would desire to have with one who has rendered me so + gallant a service.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, then, let us go back to the troubadours,” said Montreal, + indifferently. “Forgive me if I do not think highly, in general, of + Italian honour, or Italian valour; your valour I acknowledge, for I have + witnessed it, and valour and honour go together,—let that suffice!” + </p> + <p> + As Adrian was about to answer, his eye fell suddenly on the burly form of + Cecco del Vecchio, who was leaning his bare and brawny arms over his + anvil, and gazing, with a smile, upon the group. There was something in + that smile which turned the current of Adrian’s thoughts, and which he + could not contemplate without an unaccountable misgiving. + </p> + <p> + “A strong villain, that,” said Montreal, also eyeing the smith. “I should + like to enlist him. Fellow!” cried he, aloud, “you have an arm that were + as fit to wield the sword as to fashion it. Desert your anvil, and follow + the fortunes of Fra Moreale!” + </p> + <p> + The smith nodded his head. “Signor Cavalier,” said he, gravely, “we poor + men have no passion for war; we want not to kill others—we desire + only ourselves to live,—if you will let us!” + </p> + <p> + “By the Holy Mother, a slavish answer! But you Romans—” + </p> + <p> + “Are slaves!” interrupted the smith, turning away to the interior of his + forge. + </p> + <p> + “The dog is mutinous!” said the old Colonna. And as the band swept on, the + rude foreigners, encouraged by their leaders, had each some taunt or jest, + uttered in a barbarous attempt at the southern patois, for the lazy giant, + as he again appeared in front of his forge, leaning on his anvil as + before, and betraying no sign of attention to his insultors, save by a + heightened glow of his swarthy visage;—and so the gallant procession + passed through the streets, and quitted the Eternal City. + </p> + <p> + There was a long interval of deep silence—of general calm—throughout + the whole of Rome: the shops were still but half-opened; no man betook + himself to his business; it was like the commencement of some holyday, + when indolence precedes enjoyment. + </p> + <p> + About noon, a few small knots of men might be seen scattered about the + streets, whispering to each other, but soon dispersing; and every now and + then, a single passenger, generally habited in the long robes used by the + men of letters, or in the more sombre garb of monks, passed hurriedly up + the street towards the Church of St. Mary of Egypt, once the Temple of + Fortune. Then, again, all was solitary and deserted. Suddenly, there was + heard the sound of a single trumpet! It swelled—it gathered on the + ear. Cecco del Vecchio looked up from his anvil! A solitary horseman paced + slowly by the forge, and wound a long loud blast of the trumpet suspended + round his neck, as he passed through the middle of the street. Then might + you see a crowd, suddenly, and as by magic, appear emerging from every + corner; the street became thronged with multitudes; but it was only by the + tramp of their feet, and an indistinct and low murmur, that they broke the + silence. Again the horseman wound his trump, and when the note ceased, he + cried aloud—“Friends and Romans! tomorrow, at dawn of day, let each + man find himself unarmed before the Church of St. Angelo. Cola di Rienzi + convenes the Romans to provide for the good state of Rome.” A shout, that + seemed to shake the bases of the seven hills, broke forth at the end of + this brief exhortation; the horseman rode slowly on, and the crowd + followed.—This was the commencement of the Revolution! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 2.VI. The Conspirator Becomes the Magistrate. + </h2> + <p> + At midnight, when the rest of the city seemed hushed in rest, lights were + streaming from the windows of the Church of St. Angelo. Breaking from its + echoing aisles, the long and solemn notes of sacred music stole at + frequent intervals upon the air. Rienzi was praying within the church; + thirty masses consumed the hours from night till morn, and all the + sanction of religion was invoked to consecrate the enterprise of liberty. + (In fact, I apprehend that if ever the life of Cola di Rienzi shall be + written by a hand worthy of the task, it will be shown that a strong + religious feeling was blended with the political enthusiasm of the people,—the + religious feeling of a premature and crude reformation, the legacy of + Arnold of Brescia. It was not, however, one excited against the priests, + but favoured by them. The principal conventual orders declared for the + Revolution.) The sun had long risen, and the crowd had long been assembled + before the church door, and in vast streams along every street that led to + it,—when the bell of the church tolled out long and merrily; and as + it ceased, the voices of the choristers within chanted the following hymn, + in which were somewhat strikingly, though barbarously, blended, the spirit + of the classic patriotism with the fervour of religious zeal:— + </p> + <p> + The Roman Hymn of Liberty. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Let the mountains exult around! + + (“Exultent in circuito Vestro Montes,” &c.—Let the + mountains exult around! So begins Rienzi’s letter to the + Senate and Roman people: preserved by Hocsemius.) + + On her seven-hill’d throne renown’d, + Once more old Rome is crown’d! + Jubilate! + + Sing out, O Vale and Wave! + Look up from each laurell’d grave, + Bright dust of the deathless brave! + Jubilate! + + Pale Vision, what art thou?—Lo, + From Time’s dark deeps, + Like a Wind, It sweeps, + Like a Wind, when the tempests blow: + + A shadowy form—as a giant ghost— + It stands in the midst of the armed host! + The dead man’s shroud on Its awful limbs; + And the gloom of Its presence the daylight dims: + And the trembling world looks on aghast— + All hail to the SOUL OF THE MIGHTY PAST! + Hail! all hail! + + As we speak—as we hallow—It moves, It breathes; + From its clouded crest bud the laurel wreaths— + As a Sun that leaps up from the arms of Night, + The shadow takes shape, and the gloom takes light. + Hail! all hail! + + The Soul of the Past, again + To its ancient home, + In the hearts of Rome, + Hath come to resume its reign! + + O Fame, with a prophet’s voice, + Bid the ends of the Earth rejoice! + Wherever the Proud are Strong, + And Right is oppress’d by Wrong;— + Wherever the day dim shines + Through the cell where the captive pines;— + Go forth, with a trumpet’s sound! + And tell to the Nations round— + On the Hills which the Heroes trod— + In the shrines of the Saints of God— + In the Caesars’ hall, and the Martyrs’ prison— + That the slumber is broke, and the Sleeper arisen! + That the reign of the Goth and the Vandal is o’er: + And Earth feels the tread of THE ROMAN once more! +</pre> + <p> + As the hymn ended, the gate of the church opened; the crowd gave way on + either side, and, preceded by three of the young nobles of the inferior + order, bearing standards of allegorical design, depicting the triumph of + Liberty, Justice, and Concord, forth issued Rienzi, clad in complete + armour, the helmet alone excepted. His face was pale with watching and + intense excitement—but stern, grave, and solemnly composed; and its + expression so repelled any vociferous and vulgar burst of feeling, that + those who beheld it hushed the shout on their lips, and stilled, by a + simultaneous cry of reproof, the gratulations of the crowd behind. Side by + side with Rienzi moved Raimond, Bishop of Orvietto: and behind, marching + two by two, followed a hundred men-at-arms. In complete silence the + procession began its way, until, as it approached the Capitol, the awe of + the crowd gradually vanished, and thousands upon thousands of voices rent + the air with shouts of exultation and joy. + </p> + <p> + Arrived at the foot of the great staircase, which then made the principal + ascent to the square of the Capitol, the procession halted; and as the + crowd filled up that vast space in front—adorned and hallowed by + many of the most majestic columns of the temples of old—Rienzi + addressed the Populace, whom he had suddenly elevated into a People. + </p> + <p> + He depicted forcibly the servitude and misery of the citizens—the + utter absence of all law—the want even of common security to life + and property. He declared that, undaunted by the peril he incurred, he + devoted his life to the regeneration of their common country; and he + solemnly appealed to the people to assist the enterprise, and at once to + sanction and consolidate the Revolution by an established code of law and + a Constitutional Assembly. He then ordered the chart and outline of the + Constitution he proposed, to be read by the Herald to the multitude. + </p> + <p> + It created,—or rather revived, with new privileges and powers,—a + Representative Assembly of Councillors. It proclaimed, as its first law, + one that seems simple enough to our happier times, but never hitherto + executed at Rome: Every wilful homicide, of whatever rank, was to be + punished by death. It enacted, that no private noble or citizen should be + suffered to maintain fortifications and garrisons in the city or the + country; that the gates and bridges of the State should be under the + control of whomsoever should be elected Chief Magistrate. It forbade all + harbour of brigands, mercenaries, and robbers, on payment of a thousand + marks of silver; and it made the Barons who possessed the neighbouring + territories responsible for the safety of the roads, and the transport of + merchandise. It took under the protection of the State the widow and the + orphan. It appointed, in each of the quarters of the city, an armed + militia, whom the tolling of the bell of the Capitol, at any hour, was to + assemble to the protection of the State. It ordained, that in each harbour + of the coast, a vessel should be stationed, for the safeguard of commerce. + It decreed the sum of one hundred florins to the heirs of every man who + died in the defence of Rome; and it devoted the public revenues to the + service and protection of the State. + </p> + <p> + Such, moderate at once and effectual, was the outline of the New + Constitution; and it may amuse the reader to consider how great must have + been the previous disorders of the city, when the common and elementary + provisions of civilisation and security made the character of the code + proposed, and the limit of a popular revolution. + </p> + <p> + The most rapturous shouts followed this sketch of the New Constitution: + and, amidst the clamour, up rose the huge form of Cecco del Vecchio. + Despite his condition, he was a man of great importance at the present + crisis: his zeal and his courage, and, perhaps, still more, his brute + passion and stubborn prejudice, had made him popular. The lower order of + mechanics looked to him as their head and representative; out, then, he + spake loud and fearlessly,—speaking well, because his mind was full + of what he had to say. + </p> + <p> + “Countrymen and Citizens!—This New Constitution meets with your + approbation—so it ought. But what are good laws, if we do not have + good men to execute them? Who can execute a law so well as the man who + designs it? If you ask me to give you a notion how to make a good shield, + and my notion pleases you, would you ask me, or another smith, to make it + for you? If you ask another, he may make a good shield, but it would not + be the same as that which I should have made, and the description of which + contented you. Cola di Rienzi has proposed a Code of Law that shall be our + shield. Who should see that the shield become what he proposes, but Cola + di Rienzi? Romans! I suggest that Cola di Rienzi be intrusted by the + people with the authority, by whatsoever name he pleases, of carrying the + New Constitution into effect;—and whatever be the means, we, the + People, will bear him harmless.” + </p> + <p> + “Long life to Rienzi!—long live Cecco del Vecchio! He hath spoken + well!—none but the Law-maker shall be the Governor!” + </p> + <p> + Such were the acclamations which greeted the ambitious heart of the + Scholar. The voice of the people invested him with the supreme power. He + had created a Commonwealth—to become, if he desired it, a Despot! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0019" id="link2HCH0019"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 2.VII. Looking after the Halter when the Mare is Stolen. + </h2> + <p> + While such were the events at Rome, a servitor of Stephen Colonna was + already on his way to Corneto. The astonishment with which the old Baron + received the intelligence may be easily imagined. He lost not a moment in + convening his troop; and, while in all the bustle of departure, the Knight + of St. John abruptly entered his presence. His mien had lost its usual + frank composure. + </p> + <p> + “How is this?” said he, hastily; “a revolt?—Rienzi sovereign of + Rome?—can the news be believed?” + </p> + <p> + “It is too true!” said Colonna, with a bitter smile. “Where shall we hang + him on our return?” + </p> + <p> + “Talk not so wildly, Sir Baron,” replied Montreal, discourteously; “Rienzi + is stronger than you think for. I know what men are, and you only know + what noblemen are! Where is your kinsman, Adrian?” + </p> + <p> + “He is here, noble Montreal,” said Stephen, shrugging his shoulders, with + a half-disdainful smile at the rebuke, which he thought it more prudent + not to resent; “he is here!—see him enter!” + </p> + <p> + “You have heard the news?” exclaimed Montreal. + </p> + <p> + “I have.” + </p> + <p> + “And despise the revolution?” + </p> + <p> + “I fear it!” + </p> + <p> + “Then you have some sense in you. But this is none of my affair: I will + not interrupt your consultations. Adieu for the present!” and, ere Stephen + could prevent him, the Knight had quitted the chamber. + </p> + <p> + “What means this demagogue?” Montreal muttered to himself. “Would he trick + me?—has he got rid of my presence in order to monopolise all the + profit of the enterprise? I fear me so!—the cunning Roman! We + northern warriors could never compete with the intellect of these Italians + but for their cowardice. But what shall be done? I have already bid Rodolf + communicate with the brigands, and they are on the eve of departure from + their present lord. Well! let it be so! Better that I should first break + the power of the Barons, and then make my own terms, sword in hand, with + the plebeian. And if I fail in this,—sweet Adeline! I shall see thee + again!—that is some comfort!—and Louis of Hungary will bid + high for the arm and brain of Walter de Montreal. What, ho! Rodolf!” he + exclaimed aloud, as the sturdy form of the trooper, half-armed and + half-intoxicated, reeled along the courtyard. “Knave! art thou drunk at + this hour?” + </p> + <p> + “Drunk or sober,” answered Rodolf, bending low, “I am at thy bidding.” + </p> + <p> + “Well said!—are thy friends ripe for the saddle?” + </p> + <p> + “Eighty of them already tired of idleness and the dull air of Rome, will + fly wherever Sir Walter de Montreal wishes.” + </p> + <p> + “Hasten, then,—bid them mount; we go not hence with the Colonna—we + leave while they are yet talking! Bid my squires attend me!” + </p> + <p> + And when Stephen Colonna was settling himself on his palfrey, he heard, + for the first time, that the Knight of Provence, Rodolf the trooper, and + eighty of the stipendiaries, had already departed,—whither, none + knew. + </p> + <p> + “To precede us to Rome! gallant barbarian!” said Colonna. “Sirs, on!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0020" id="link2HCH0020"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 2.VIII. The Attack—the Retreat—the Election—and + the Adhesion. + </h2> + <p> + Arriving at Rome, the company of the Colonna found the gates barred, and + the walls manned. Stephen bade advance his trumpeters, with one of his + captains, imperiously to demand admittance. + </p> + <p> + “We have orders,” replied the chief of the town-guard, “to admit none who + bear arms, flags, or trumpets. Let the Lords Colonna dismiss their train, + and they are welcome.” + </p> + <p> + “Whose are these insolent mandates?” asked the captain. + </p> + <p> + “Those of the Lord Bishop of Orvietto and Cola di Rienzi, joint protectors + of the Buono Stato.” (Good Estate.) + </p> + <p> + The captain of the Colonna returned to his chief with these tidings. The + rage of Stephen was indescribable. “Go back,” he cried, as soon as he + could summon voice, “and say, that, if the gates are not forthwith opened + to me and mine, the blood of the plebeians be on their own head. As for + Raimond, Vicars of the Pope have high spiritual authority, none temporal. + Let him prescribe a fast, and he shall be obeyed; but, for the rash + Rienzi, say that Stephen Colonna will seek him in the Capitol tomorrow, + for the purpose of throwing him out of the highest window.” + </p> + <p> + These messages the envoy failed not to deliver. + </p> + <p> + The captain of the Romans was equally stern in his reply. + </p> + <p> + “Declare to your Lord,” said he, “that Rome holds him and his as rebels + and traitors; and that the moment you regain your troop, our archers + receive our command to draw their bows—in the name of the Pope, the + City, and the Liberator.” + </p> + <p> + This threat was executed to the letter; and ere the old Baron had time to + draw up his men in the best array, the gates were thrown open, and a + well-armed, if undisciplined, multitude poured forth, with fierce shouts, + clashing their arms, and advancing the azure banners of the Roman State. + So desperate their charge, and so great their numbers, that the Barons, + after a short and tumultuous conflict, were driven back, and chased by + their pursuers for more than a mile from the walls of the city. + </p> + <p> + As soon as the Barons recovered their disorder and dismay, a hasty council + was held, at which various and contradictory opinions were loudly urged. + Some were for departing on the instant to Palestrina, which belonged to + the Colonna, and possessed an almost inaccessible fortress. Others were + for dispersing, and entering peaceably, and in detached parties, through + the other gates. Stephen Colonna—himself incensed and disturbed from + his usual self-command—was unable to preserve his authority; Luca di + Savelli, (The more correct orthography were Luca di Savello, but the one + in the text is preserved as more familiar to the English reader.) a timid, + though treacherous and subtle man, already turned his horse’s head, and + summoned his men to follow him to his castle in Romagna, when the old + Colonna bethought himself of a method by which to keep his band from a + disunion that he had the sense to perceive would prove fatal to the common + cause. He proposed that they should at once repair to Palestrina, and + there fortify themselves; while one of the chiefs should be selected to + enter Rome alone, and apparently submissive, to examine the strength of + Rienzi; and with the discretionary power to resist if possible,—or + to make the best terms he could for the admission of the rest. + </p> + <p> + “And who,” asked Savelli, sneeringly, “will undertake this dangerous + mission? Who, unarmed and alone, will expose himself to the rage of the + fiercest populace of Italy, and the caprice of a demagogue in the first + flush of his power?” + </p> + <p> + The Barons and the Captains looked at each other in silence. Savelli + laughed. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto Adrian had taken no part in the conference, and but little in the + previous contest. He now came to the support of his kinsman. + </p> + <p> + “Signors!” said he, “I will undertake this mission,—but on mine own + account, independently of yours;—free to act as I may think best, + for the dignity of a Roman noble, and the interests of a Roman citizen; + free to raise my standard on mine own tower, or to yield fealty to the new + estate.” + </p> + <p> + “Well said!” cried the old Colonna, hastily. “Heaven forbid we should + enter Rome as foes, if to enter it as friends be yet allowed us! What say + ye, gentles?” + </p> + <p> + “A more worthy choice could not be selected,” said Savelli; “but I should + scarce deem it possible that a Colonna could think there was an option + between resistance and fealty to this upstart revolution.” + </p> + <p> + “Of that, Signor, I will judge for myself; if you demand an agent for + yourselves, choose another. I announce to ye frankly, that I have seen + enough of other states to think the recent condition of Rome demanded some + redress. Whether Rienzi and Raimond be worthy of the task they have + assumed, I know not.” + </p> + <p> + Savelli was silent. The old Colonna seized the word. + </p> + <p> + “To Palestrina, then!—are ye all agreed on this? At the worst, or at + the best, we should not be divided! On this condition alone I hazard the + safety of my kinsman!” + </p> + <p> + The Barons murmured a little among themselves;—the expediency of + Stephen’s proposition was evident, and they at length assented to it. + </p> + <p> + Adrian saw them depart, and then, attended only by his squire, slowly rode + towards a more distant entrance into the city. On arriving at the gates, + his name was demanded—he gave it freely. + </p> + <p> + “Enter, my Lord,” said the warder, “our orders were to admit all that came + unarmed and unattended. But to the Lord Adrian di Castello, alone, we had + a special injunction to give the honours due to a citizen and a friend.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian, a little touched by this implied recollection of friendship, now + rode through a long line of armed citizens, who saluted him respectfully + as he passed, and, as he returned the salutation with courtesy, a loud and + approving shout followed his horse’s steps. + </p> + <p> + So, save by one attendant, alone, and in peace, the young patrician + proceeded leisurely through the long streets, empty and deserted,—for + nearly one half of the inhabitants were assembled at the walls, and nearly + the other half were engaged in a more peaceful duty,—until, + penetrating the interior, the wide and elevated space of the Capitol broke + upon his sight. The sun was slowly setting over an immense multitude that + overspread the spot, and high above a scaffold raised in the centre, + shone, to the western ray, the great Gonfalon of Rome, studded with silver + stars. + </p> + <p> + Adrian reined in his steed. “This,” thought he, “is scarcely the hour thus + publicly to confer with Rienzi; yet fain would I, mingled with the crowd, + judge how far his power is supported, and in what manner it is borne.” + Musing a little, he withdrew into one of the obscurer streets, then wholly + deserted, surrendered his horse to his squire, and, borrowing of the + latter his morion and long mantle, passed to one of the more private + entrances of the Capitol, and, enveloped in his cloak, stood—one of + the crowd—intent upon all that followed. + </p> + <p> + “And what,” he asked of a plainly dressed citizen, “is the cause of this + assembly?” + </p> + <p> + “Heard you not the proclamation?” returned the other in some surprise. “Do + you not know that the Council of the City and the Guilds of the Artisans + have passed a vote to proffer to Rienzi the title of king of Rome?” + </p> + <p> + The Knight of the Emperor, to whom belonged that august dignity, drew back + in dismay. + </p> + <p> + “And,” resumed the citizen, “this assembly of all the lesser Barons, + Councillors, and Artificers, is convened to hear the answer.” + </p> + <p> + “Of course it will be assent?” + </p> + <p> + “I know not—there are strange rumours; hitherto the Liberator has + concealed his sentiments.” + </p> + <p> + At that instant a loud flourish of martial music announced the approach of + Rienzi. The crowd tumultuously divided, and presently, from the Palace of + the Capitol to the scaffold, passed Rienzi, still in complete armour, save + the helmet, and with him, in all the pomp of his episcopal robes, Raimond + of Orvietto. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Rienzi had ascended the platform, and was thus made visible to + the whole concourse, no words can suffice to paint the enthusiasm of the + scene—the shouts, the gestures, the tears, the sobs, the wild + laughter, in which the sympathy of those lively and susceptible children + of the South broke forth. The windows and balconies of the Palace were + thronged with the wives and daughters of the lesser Barons and more + opulent citizens; and Adrian, with a slight start, beheld amongst them,—pale—agitated—tearful,—the + lovely face of his Irene—a face that even thus would have outshone + all present, but for one by her side, whose beauty the emotion of the hour + only served to embellish. The dark, large, and flashing eyes of Nina di + Raselli, just bedewed, were fixed proudly on the hero of her choice: and + pride, even more than joy, gave a richer carnation to her cheek, and the + presence of a queen to her noble and rounded form. The setting sun poured + its full glory over the spot; the bared heads—the animated faces of + the crowd—the grey and vast mass of the Capitol; and, not far from + the side of Rienzi, it brought into a strange and startling light the + sculptured form of a colossal Lion of Basalt, (The existent Capitol is + very different from the building at the time of Rienzi; and the reader + must not suppose that the present staircase, designed by Michael Angelo, + at the base of which are two marble lions, removed by Pius IV. from the + Church of St. Stephen del Cacco, was the staircase of the Lion of Basalt, + which bears so stern a connexion with the history of Rienzi. That mute + witness of dark deeds is no more.) which gave its name to a staircase + leading to the Capitol. It was an old Egyptian relic,—vast, worn, + and grim; some symbol of a vanished creed, to whose face the sculptor had + imparted something of the aspect of the human countenance. And this + producing the effect probably sought, gave at all times a mystic, + preternatural, and fearful expression to the stern features, and to that + solemn and hushed repose, which is so peculiarly the secret of Egyptian + sculpture. The awe which this colossal and frowning image was calculated + to convey, was felt yet more deeply by the vulgar, because “the Staircase + of the Lion” was the wonted place of the state executions, as of the state + ceremonies. And seldom did the stoutest citizen forget to cross himself, + or feel unchilled with a certain terror, whenever, passing by the place, + he caught, suddenly fixed upon him, the stony gaze and ominous grin of + that old monster from the cities of the Nile. + </p> + <p> + It was some minutes before the feelings of the assembly allowed Rienzi to + be heard. But when, at length, the last shout closed with a simultaneous + cry of “Long live Rienzi! Deliverer and King of Rome!” he raised his hand + impatiently, and the curiosity of the crowd procured a sudden silence. + </p> + <p> + “Deliverer of Rome, my countrymen!” said he. “Yes! change not that title—I + am too ambitious to be a King! Preserve your obedience to your Pontiff—your + allegiance to your Emperor—but be faithful to your own liberties. Ye + have a right to your ancient constitution; but that constitution needed + not a king. Emulous of the name of Brutus, I am above the titles of a + Tarquin! Romans, awake! awake! be inspired with a nobler love of liberty + than that which, if it dethrones the tyrant of today, would madly risk the + danger of tyranny for tomorrow! Rome wants still a liberator—never + an usurper!—Take away yon bauble!” + </p> + <p> + There was a pause; the crowd were deeply affected—but they uttered + no shouts; they looked anxiously for a reply from their councillors, or + popular leaders. + </p> + <p> + “Signor,” said Pandulfo di Guido, who was one of the Caporioni, “your + answer is worthy of your fame. But, in order to enforce the law, Rome must + endow you with a legal title—if not that of King, deign to accept + that of Dictator or of Consul.” + </p> + <p> + “Long live the Consul Rienzi!” cried several voices. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi waved his hand for silence. + </p> + <p> + “Pandulfo di Guido! and you, honoured Councillors of Rome! such title is + at once too august for my merits, and too inapplicable to my functions. I + am one of the people—the people are my charge; the nobles can + protect themselves. Dictator and Consul are the appellations of + patricians. No,” he continued after a short pause, “if ye deem it + necessary, for the preservation of order, that your fellow-citizen should + be intrusted with a formal title and a recognised power, be it so: but let + it be such as may attest the nature of our new institutions, the wisdom of + the people, and the moderation of their leaders. Once, my countrymen, the + people elected, for the protectors of their rights and the guardians of + their freedom, certain officers responsible to the people,—chosen + from the people,—provident for the people. Their power was great, + but it was delegated: a dignity, but a trust. The name of these officers + with that of Tribune. Such is the title that conceded, not by clamour + alone, but in the full Parliament of the people, and accompanied by, such + Parliament, ruling with such Parliament,—such is the title I will + gratefully accept.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (Gibbon and Sismondi alike, (neither of whom appears to have + consulted with much attention the original documents + preserved by Hocsemius,) say nothing of the Representative + Parliament, which it was almost Rienzi’s first public act to + institute or model. Six days from the memorable 19th of May, + he addressed the people of Viterbo in a letter yet extant. + He summons them to elect and send two syndics, or + ambassadors, to the general Parliament.) +</pre> + <p> + The speech, the sentiments of Rienzi were rendered far more impressive by + a manner of earnest and deep sincerity; and some of the Romans, despite + their corruption, felt a momentary exultation in the forbearance of their + chief. “Long live the Tribune of Rome!” was shouted, but less loud than + the cry of “Live the King!” And the vulgar almost thought the revolution + was incomplete, because the loftier title was not assumed. To a degenerate + and embruted people, liberty seems too plain a thing, if unadorned by the + pomp of the very despotism they would dethrone. Revenge is their desire, + rather than Release; and the greater the new power they create, the + greater seems their revenge against the old. Still all that was most + respected, intelligent, and powerful amongst the assembly, were delighted + at a temperance which they foresaw would free Rome from a thousand + dangers, whether from the Emperor or the Pontiff. And their delight was + yet increased, when Rienzi added, so soon as returning silence permitted—“And + since we have been equal labourers in the same cause, whatever honours be + awarded to me, should be extended also to the Vicar of the Pope, Raimond, + Lord Bishop of Orvietto. Remember, that both Church and State are properly + the rulers of the people, only because their benefactors.—Long live + the first Vicar of a Pope that was ever also the Liberator of a State!” + </p> + <p> + Whether or not Rienzi was only actuated by patriotism in his moderation, + certain it is, that his sagacity was at least equal to his virtue; and + perhaps nothing could have cemented the revolution more strongly, than + thus obtaining for a colleague the Vicar, and Representative of the + Pontifical power: it borrowed, for the time, the sanction of the Pope + himself—thus made to share the responsibility of the revolution, + without monopolising the power of the State. + </p> + <p> + While the crowd hailed the proposition of Rienzi; while their shouts yet + filled the air; while Raimond, somewhat taken by surprise, sought by signs + and gestures to convey at once his gratitude and his humility, the + Tribune-Elect, casting his eyes around, perceived many hitherto attracted + by curiosity, and whom, from their rank and weight, it was desirable to + secure in the first heat of the public enthusiasm. Accordingly, as soon as + Raimond had uttered a short and pompous harangue,—in which his eager + acceptance of the honour proposed him was ludicrously contrasted by his + embarrassed desire not to involve himself or the Pope in any untoward + consequences that might ensue,—Rienzi motioned to two heralds that + stood behind upon the platform, and one of these advancing, proclaimed—“That + as it was desirable that all hitherto neuter should now profess themselves + friends or foes, so they were invited to take at once the oath of + obedience to the laws, and subscription to the Buono Stato.” + </p> + <p> + So great was the popular fervour, and so much had it been refined and + deepened in its tone by the addresses of Rienzi, that even the most + indifferent had caught the contagion: and no man liked to be seen + shrinking from the rest: so that the most neutral, knowing themselves the + most marked, were the most entrapped into allegiance to the Buono Stato. + The first who advanced to the platform and took the oath was the Signor di + Raselli, the father of Nina.—Others of the lesser nobility followed + his example. + </p> + <p> + The presence of the Pope’s Vicar induced the aristocratic; the fear of the + people urged the selfish; the encouragement of shouts and gratulations + excited the vain. The space between Adrian and Rienzi was made clear. The + young noble suddenly felt the eyes of the Tribune were upon him; he felt + that those eyes recognised and called upon him—he coloured—he + breathed short. The noble forbearance of Rienzi had touched him to the + heart;—the applause—the pageant—the enthusiasm of the + scene, intoxicated—confused him.—He lifted his eyes and saw + before him the sister of the Tribune—the lady of his love! His + indecision—his pause—continued, when Raimond, observing him, + and obedient to a whisper from Rienzi, artfully cried aloud—“Room + for the Lord Adrian di Castello! a Colonna! a Colonna!” Retreat was cut + off. Mechanically, and as if in a dream, Adrian ascended to the platform: + and to complete the triumph of the Tribune, the sun’s last ray beheld the + flower of the Colonna—the best and bravest of the Barons of Rome—confessing + his authority, and subscribing to his laws! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0026" id="link2H_4_0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK III. THE FREEDOM WITHOUT LAW. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ben furo avventurosi i cavalieri + Ch’ erano a quella eta, che nei vallone, + Nelle scure spelonche e boschi fieri, + Tane di serpi, d’orsi e di leoni, + Trovavan quel che nei palazzi altieri + Appena or trovar pon giudici buoni; + Donne che nella lor piu fresca etade + Sien degne di aver titol di beltade.” + + Ariosto, Orlando Furioso, can. xiii. 1. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0021" id="link2HCH0021"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 3.I. The Return of Walter de Montreal to his Fortress. + </h2> + <p> + When Walter de Montreal and his mercenaries quitted Corneto, they made the + best of their way to Rome; arriving there, long before the Barons, they + met with a similar reception at the gates, but Montreal prudently forbore + all attack and menace, and contented himself with sending his trusty + Rodolf into the city to seek Rienzi, and to crave permission to enter with + his troop. Rodolf returned in a shorter time than was anticipated. “Well,” + said Montreal impatiently, “you have the order I suppose. Shall we bid + them open the gates?” + </p> + <p> + “Bid them open our graves,” replied the Saxon, bluntly. “I trust my next + heraldry will be to a more friendly court.” + </p> + <p> + “How! what mean you?” + </p> + <p> + “Briefly this:—I found the new governor, or whatever his title, in + the palace of the Capitol, surrounded by guards and councillors, and in a + suit of the finest armour I ever saw out of Milan.” + </p> + <p> + “Pest on his armour! give us his answer.” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tell Walter de Montreal,’ said he, then, if you will have it, ‘that Rome + is no longer a den of thieves; tell him, that if he enters, he must abide + a trial—‘” + </p> + <p> + “A trial!” cried Montreal, grinding his teeth. + </p> + <p> + “‘For participation in the evil doings of Werner and his freebooters.’” + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” + </p> + <p> + “‘Tell him, moreover, that Rome declares war against all robbers, whether + in tent or tower, and that we order him in forty-eight hours to quit the + territories of the Church.’” + </p> + <p> + “He thinks, then, not only to deceive, but to menace me? Well, proceed.” + </p> + <p> + “That was all his reply to you; to me, however, he vouchsafed a caution + still more obliging. ‘Hark ye, friend,’ said he, for every German bandit + found in Rome after tomorrow, our welcome will be cord and gibbet! + Begone.’” + </p> + <p> + “Enough! enough!” cried Montreal, colouring with rage and shame. “Rodolf, + you have a skilful eye in these matters, how many Northmen would it take + to give that same gibbet to the upstart?” + </p> + <p> + Rodolf scratched his huge head, and seemed awhile lost in calculation; at + length he said, “You, Captain, must be the best judge, when I tell you, + that twenty thousand Romans are the least of his force, so I heard by the + way; and this evening he is to accept the crown, and depose the Emperor.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha, ha!” laughed Montreal, “is he so mad? then he will want not our aid + to hang himself. My friends, let us wait the result. At present neither + barons nor people seem likely to fill our coffers. Let us across the + country to Terracina. Thank the saints,” and Montreal (who was not without + a strange kind of devotion,—indeed he deemed that virtue essential + to chivalry) crossed himself piously, “the free companions are never long + without quarters!” + </p> + <p> + “Hurrah for the Knight of St. John!” cried the mercenaries. “And hurrah + for fair Provence and bold Germany!” added the Knight, as he waved his + hand on high, struck spurs into his already wearied horse, and, breaking + out into his favourite song, + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “His steed and his sword, + And his lady the peerless,” &c., +</pre> + <p> + Montreal, with his troop, struck gallantly across the Campagna. + </p> + <p> + The Knight of St. John soon, however, fell into an absorbed and moody + reverie; and his followers imitating the silence of their chief, in a few + minutes the clatter of their arms and the jingle of their spurs, alone + disturbed the stillness of the wide and gloomy plains across which they + made towards Terracina. Montreal was recalling with bitter resentment his + conference with Rienzi; and, proud of his own sagacity and talent for + scheming, he was humbled and vexed at the discovery that he had been duped + by a wilier intriguer. His ambitious designs on Rome, too, were crossed, + and even crushed for the moment, by the very means to which he had looked + for their execution. He had seen enough of the Barons to feel assured that + while Stephen Colonna lived, the head of the order, he was not likely to + obtain that mastery in the state which, if leagued with a more ambitious + or a less timid and less potent signor, might reward his aid in expelling + Rienzi. Under all circumstances, he deemed it advisable to remain aloof. + Should Rienzi grow strong, Montreal might make the advantageous terms he + desired with the Barons; should Rienzi’s power decay, his pride, + necessarily humbled, might drive him to seek the assistance, and submit to + the proposals, of Montreal. The ambition of the Provencal, though vast and + daring, was not of a consistent and persevering nature. Action and + enterprise were dearer to him, as yet, than the rewards which they + proffered; and if baffled in one quarter, he turned himself, with the true + spirit of the knight-errant, to any other field for his achievements. + Louis, king of Hungary, stern, warlike, implacable, seeking vengeance for + the murder of his brother, the ill-fated husband of Joanna, (the beautiful + and guilty Queen of Naples—the Mary Stuart of Italy,) had already + prepared himself to subject the garden of Campania to the Hungarian yoke. + Already his bastard brother had entered Italy—already some of the + Neapolitan states had declared in his favour—already promises had + been held out by the northern monarch to the scattered Companies—and + already those fierce mercenaries gathered menacingly round the frontiers + of that Eden of Italy, attracted, as vultures to the carcass, by the + preparation of war and the hope of plunder. Such was the field to which + the bold mind of Montreal now turned its thoughts; and his soldiers had + joyfully conjectured his design when they had heard him fix Terracina as + their bourne. Provident of every resource, and refining his audacious and + unprincipled valour by a sagacity which promised, when years had more + matured and sobered his restless chivalry, to rank him among the most + dangerous enemies Italy had ever known, on the first sign of Louis’s + warlike intentions, Montreal had seized and fortified a strong castle on + that delicious coast beyond Terracina, by which lies the celebrated pass + once held by Fabius against Hannibal, and which Nature has so favoured for + war as for peace, that a handful of armed men might stop the march of an + army. The possession of such a fortress on the very frontiers of Naples, + gave Montreal an importance of which he trusted to avail himself with the + Hungarian king: and now, thwarted in his more grand and aspiring projects + upon Rome, his sanguine, active, and elastic spirit congratulated itself + upon the resource it had secured. + </p> + <p> + The band halted at nightfall on this side the Pontine Marshes, seizing + without scruple some huts and sheds, from which they ejected the miserable + tenants, and slaughtering with no greater ceremony the swine, cattle, and + poultry of a neighbouring farm. Shortly after sunrise they crossed those + fatal swamps which had already been partially drained by Boniface VIII.; + and Montreal, refreshed by sleep, reconciled to his late mortification by + the advantages opened to him in the approaching war with Naples, and + rejoicing as he approached a home which held one who alone divided his + heart with ambition, had resumed all the gaiety which belonged to his + Gallic birth and his reckless habits. And that deadly but consecrated + road, where yet may be seen the labours of Augustus, in the canal which + had witnessed the Voyage so humourously described by Horace, echoed with + the loud laughter and frequent snatches of wild song by which the + barbarian robbers enlivened their rapid march. + </p> + <p> + It was noon when the company entered upon that romantic pass I have before + referred to—the ancient Lantulae. High to the left rose steep and + lofty rocks, then covered by the prodigal verdure, and the countless + flowers, of the closing May; while to the right the sea, gentle as a lake, + and blue as heaven, rippled musically at their feet. Montreal, who largely + possessed the poetry of his land, which is so eminently allied with a love + of nature, might at another time have enjoyed the beauty of the scene; but + at that moment less external and more household images were busy within + him. + </p> + <p> + Abruptly ascending where a winding path up the mountain offered a rough + and painful road to their horses’ feet, the band at length arrived before + a strong fortress of grey stone, whose towers were concealed by the lofty + foliage, until they emerged sullenly and suddenly from the laughing + verdure. The sound of the bugle, the pennon of the knight, the rapid + watchword, produced a loud shout of welcome from a score or two of grim + soldiery on the walls; the portcullis was raised, and Montreal, throwing + himself hastily from his panting steed, sprung across the threshold of a + jutting porch, and traversed a huge hall, when a lady—young, fair, + and richly dressed—met him with a step equally swift, and fell + breathless and overjoyed into his arms. + </p> + <p> + “My Walter! my dear, dear Walter; welcome—ten thousand welcomes!” + </p> + <p> + “Adeline, my beautiful—my adored—I see thee again!” + </p> + <p> + Such were the greetings interchanged as Montreal pressed his lady to his + heart, kissing away her tears, and lifting her face to his, while he gazed + on its delicate bloom with all the wistful anxiety of affection after + absence. + </p> + <p> + “Fairest,” said he, tenderly, “thou hast pined, thou hast lost roundness + and colour since we parted. Come, come, thou art too gentle, or too + foolish, for a soldier’s love.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Walter!” replied Adeline, clinging to him, “now thou art returned, + and I shall be well. Thou wilt not leave me again a long, long time.” + </p> + <p> + “Sweet one, no;” and flinging his arm round her waist, the lovers—for + alas! they were not wedded!—retired to the more private chambers of + the castle. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0022" id="link2HCH0022"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 3.II. The Life of Love and War—the Messenger of Peace—the + </h2> + <p> + Joust. + </p> + <p> + Girt with his soldiery, secure in his feudal hold, enchanted with the + beauty of the earth, sky, and sea around, and passionately adoring his + Adeline, Montreal for awhile forgot all his more stirring projects and his + ruder occupations. His nature was capable of great tenderness, as of great + ferocity; and his heart smote him when he looked at the fair cheek of his + lady, and saw that even his presence did not suffice to bring back the + smile and the fresh hues of old. Often he cursed that fatal oath of his + knightly order which forbade him to wed, though with one more than his + equal; and remorse embittered his happiest hours. That gentle lady in that + robber hold, severed from all she had been taught most to prize—mother, + friends, and fair fame—only loved her seducer the more intensely; + only the more concentrated upon one object all the womanly and tender + feelings denied every other and less sinful vent. But she felt her shame, + though she sought to conceal it, and a yet more gnawing grief than even + that of shame contributed to prey upon her spirits and undermine her + health. Yet, withal, in Montreal’s presence she was happy, even in regret; + and in her declining health she had at least a consolation in the hope to + die while his love was undiminished. Sometimes they made short excursions, + for the disturbed state of the country forbade them to wander far from the + castle, through the sunny woods, and along the glassy sea, which make the + charm of that delicious scenery; and that mixture of the savage with the + tender, the wild escort, the tent in some green glade in the woods at + noon, the lute and voice of Adeline, with the fierce soldiers grouped and + listening at the distance, might have well suited the verse of Ariosto, + and harmonised singularly with that strange, disordered, yet chivalric + time, in which the Classic South became the seat of the Northern Romance. + Still, however, Montreal maintained his secret intercourse with the + Hungarian king, and, plunged in new projects, willingly forsook for the + present all his designs on Rome. Yet deemed he that his more august + ambition was only delayed, and, bright in the more distant prospects of + his adventurous career, rose the Capitol of Rome and shone the sceptre of + the Caesars. + </p> + <p> + One day, as Montreal, with a small troop in attendance, passed on + horseback near the walls of Terracina, the gates were suddenly thrown + open, and a numerous throng issued forth, preceded by a singular figure, + whose steps they followed bareheaded and with loud blessings; a train of + monks closed the procession, chanting a hymn, of which the concluding + words were as follows:— + </p> + <p> + Beauteous on the mountains—lo, The feet of him glad tidings gladly + bringing; The flowers along his pathway grow, And voices, heard aloft, to + angel harps are singing: And strife and slaughter cease Before thy blessed + way, Young Messenger of Peace! O’er the mount, and through the moor, Glide + thy holy steps secure. Day and night no fear thou knowest, Lonely—but + with God thou goest. Where the Heathen rage the fiercest, Through the + armed throng thou piercest. For thy coat of mail, bedight In thy spotless + robe of white. For the sinful sword—thy hand Bearing bright the + silver wand: Through the camp and through the court, Through the bandit’s + gloomy fort, On the mission of the dove, Speeds the minister of love; By a + word the wildest taming, And the world to Christ reclaiming: While, as + once the waters trod By the footsteps of thy God, War, and wrath, and + rapine cease, Hush’d round thy charmed path, O Messenger of Peace! + </p> + <p> + The stranger to whom these honours were paid was a young, unbearded man, + clothed in white wrought with silver; he was unarmed and barefooted: in + his hand he held a tall silver wand. Montreal and his party halted in + astonishment and wonder, and the Knight, spurring his horse toward the + crowd, confronted the stranger. + </p> + <p> + “How, friend,” quoth the Provencal, “is thine a new order of pilgrims, or + what especial holiness has won thee this homage?” + </p> + <p> + “Back, back,” cried some of the bolder of the crowd, “let not the robber + dare arrest the Messenger of Peace.” + </p> + <p> + Montreal waved his hand disdainfully. + </p> + <p> + “I speak not to you, good sirs, and the worthy friars in your rear know + full well that I never injured herald or palmer.” + </p> + <p> + The monks, ceasing from their hymn, advanced hastily to the spot; and + indeed the devotion of Montreal had ever induced him to purchase the + goodwill of whatever monastery neighboured his wandering home. + </p> + <p> + “My son,” said the eldest of the brethren, “this is a strange spectacle, + and a sacred: and when thou learnest all, thou wilt rather give the + messenger a passport of safety from the unthinking courage of thy friends + than intercept his path of peace.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye puzzle still more my simple brain,” said Montreal, impatiently, “let + the youth speak for himself; I perceive that on his mantle are the arms of + Rome blended with other quarterings, which are a mystery to me,—though + sufficiently versed in heraldic art as befits a noble and a knight.” + </p> + <p> + “Signor,” said the youth, gravely, “know in me the messenger of Cola di + Rienzi, Tribune of Rome, charged with letters to many a baron and prince + in the ways between Rome and Naples. The arms wrought upon my mantle are + those of the Pontiff, the City, and the Tribune.” + </p> + <p> + “Umph; thou must have bold nerves to traverse the Campagna with no other + weapon than that stick of silver!” + </p> + <p> + “Thou art mistaken, Sir Knight,” replied the youth, boldly, “and judgest + of the present by the past; know that not a single robber now lurks within + the Campagna, the arms of the Tribune have rendered every road around the + city as secure as the broadest street of the city itself.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou tellest me wonders.” + </p> + <p> + “Through the forest—and in the fortress,—through the wildest + solitudes,—through the most populous towns,—have my comrades + borne this silver wand unmolested and unscathed; wherever we pass along, + thousands hail us, and tears of joy bless the messengers of him who hath + expelled the brigand from his hold, the tyrant from his castle, and + ensured the gains of the merchant and the hut of the peasant.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardieu,” said Montreal, with a stern smile, “I ought to be thankful for + the preference shown to me; I have not yet received the commands, nor felt + the vengeance, of the Tribune; yet, methinks, my humble castle lies just + within the patrimony of St. Peter.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Signor Cavalier,” said the youth; “but do I address the + renowned Knight of St. John, warrior of the Cross, yet leader of + banditti?” + </p> + <p> + “Boy, you are bold; I am Walter de Montreal.” + </p> + <p> + “I am bound, then, Sir Knight, to your castle.” + </p> + <p> + “Take care how thou reach it before me, or thou standest a fair chance of + a quick exit. How now, my friends!” seeing that the crowd at these words + gathered closer round the messenger, “Think ye that I, who have my mate in + kings, would find a victim in an unarmed boy? Fie! give way—give + way. Young man, follow me homeward; you are safe in my castle as in your + mother’s arms.” So saying, Montreal, with great dignity and deliberate + gravity, rode slowly towards his castle, his soldiers, wondering, at a + little distance, and the white-robed messenger following with the crowd, + who refused to depart; so great was their enthusiasm, that they even + ascended to the gates of the dreaded castle, and insisted on waiting + without until the return of the youth assured them of his safety. + </p> + <p> + Montreal, who, however lawless elsewhere, strictly preserved the rights of + the meanest boor in his immediate neighbourhood, and rather affected + popularity with the poor, bade the crowd enter the courtyard, ordered his + servitors to provide them with wine and refreshment, regaled the good + monks in his great hall, and then led the way to a small room, where he + received the messenger. + </p> + <p> + “This,” said the youth, “will best explain my mission,” as he placed a + letter before Montreal. + </p> + <p> + The Knight cut the silk with his dagger, and read the epistle with great + composure. + </p> + <p> + “Your Tribune,” said he, when he had finished it, “has learned the laconic + style of power very soon. He orders me to render this castle, and vacate + the Papal Territory within ten days. He is obliging; I must have breathing + time to consider the proposal; be seated, I pray you, young sir. Forgive + me, but I should have imagined that your lord had enough upon his hands + with his Roman barons, to make him a little more indulgent to us foreign + visitors. Stephen Colonna—” + </p> + <p> + “Is returned to Rome, and has taken the oath of allegiance; the Savelli, + the Orsini, the Frangipani, have all subscribed their submission to the + Buono Stato.” + </p> + <p> + “How!” cried Montreal, in great surprise. + </p> + <p> + “Not only have they returned, but they have submitted to the dispersion of + all their mercenaries, and the dismantling of all their fortifications. + The iron of the Orsini palace now barricades the Capitol, and the + stonework of the Colonna and the Savelli has added new battlements to the + gates of the Lateran and St. Laurence.” + </p> + <p> + “Wonderful man!” said Montreal, with reluctant admiration. “By what means + was this effected?” + </p> + <p> + “A stern command and a strong force to back it. At the first sound of the + great bell, twenty thousand Romans rise in arms. What to such an army are + the brigands of an Orsini or a Colonna?—Sir Knight, your valour and + renown make even Rome admire you; and I, a Roman, bid you beware.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I thank thee—thy news, friend, robs me of breath. So the + Barons submit, then?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes: on the first day, one of the Colonna, the Lord Adrian, took the + oath; within a week, Stephen, assured of safe conduct, left Palestrina, + the Savelli in his train; the Orsini followed—even Martino di Porto + has silently succumbed.” + </p> + <p> + “The Tribune—but is that his dignity—methought he was to be + king—” + </p> + <p> + “He was offered, and he refused, the title. His present rank, which + arrogates no patrician honours, went far to conciliate the nobles.” + </p> + <p> + “A wise knave!—I beg pardon, a sagacious prince!—Well, then, + the Tribune lords it mightily, I suppose, over the great Roman names?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me—he enforces impartial justice from peasant or patrician; + but he preserves to the nobles all their just privileges and legal rank.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha!—and the vain puppets, so they keep the semblance, scarce miss + the substance—I understand. But this shows genius—the Tribune + is unwed, I think. Does he look among the Colonna for a wife?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Knight, the Tribune is already married; within three days after his + ascension to power, he won and bore home the daughter of the Baron di + Raselli.” + </p> + <p> + “Raselli! no great name; he might have done better.” + </p> + <p> + “But it is said,” resumed the youth, smiling, “that the Tribune will + shortly be allied to the Colonna, through his fair sister the Signora + Irene. The Baron di Castello woos her.” + </p> + <p> + “What, Adrian Colonna! Enough! you have convinced me that a man who + contents the people and awes or conciliates the nobles is born for empire. + My answer to this letter I will send myself. For your news, Sir Messenger, + accept this jewel,” and the knight took from his finger a gem of some + price. “Nay, shrink not, it was as freely given to me as it is now to + thee.” + </p> + <p> + The youth, who had been agreeably surprised, and impressed, by the manner + of the renowned freebooter, and who was not a little astonished himself + with the ease and familiarity with which he had been relating to Fra + Moreale, in his own fortress, the news of Rome, bowed low as he accepted + the gift. + </p> + <p> + The astute Provencal, who saw the evident impression he had made, + perceived also that it might be of advantage in delaying the measures he + might deem it expedient to adopt. “Assure the Tribune,” said he, on + dismissing the messenger, “shouldst thou return ere my letter arrive, that + I admire his genius, hail his power, and will not fail to consider as + favourably as I may of his demand.” + </p> + <p> + “Better,” said the messenger, warmly (he was of good blood, and gentle + bearing),—“better ten tyrants for our enemy, than one Montreal.” + </p> + <p> + “An enemy! believe me, sir, I seek no enmity with princes who know how to + govern, or a people that has the wisdom at once to rule and to obey.” + </p> + <p> + The whole of that day, however, Montreal remained thoughtful and uneasy; + he despatched trusty messengers to the Governor of Aquila (who was then in + correspondence with Louis of Hungary), to Naples, and to Rome:—the + last charged with a letter to the Tribune, which, without absolutely + compromising himself, affected submission, and demanded only a longer + leisure for the preparations of departure. But, at the same time, fresh + fortifications were added to the castle, ample provisions were laid in, + and, night and day, spies and scouts were stationed along the pass, and in + the town of Terracina. Montreal was precisely the chief who prepared most + for war when most he pretended peace. + </p> + <p> + One morning, the fifth from the appearance of the Roman messenger, + Montreal, after narrowly surveying his outworks and his stores, and + feeling satisfied that he could hold out at least a month’s siege, + repaired, with a gayer countenance than he had lately worn, to the chamber + of Adeline. + </p> + <p> + The lady was seated by the casement of the tower, from which might be seen + the glorious landscape of woods, and vales, and orange groves—a + strange garden for such a palace! As she leant her face upon her hand, + with her profile slightly turned to Montreal, there was something + ineffably graceful in the bend of her neck,—the small head so + expressive of gentle blood,—with the locks parted in front in that + simple fashion which modern times have so happily revived. But the + expression of the half-averted face, the abstracted intentness of the + gaze, and the profound stillness of the attitude, were so sad and + mournful, that Montreal’s purposed greeting of gallantry and gladness died + upon his lips. He approached in silence, and laid his hand upon her + shoulder. + </p> + <p> + Adeline turned, and taking the hand in hers, pressed it to her heart, and + smiled away all her sadness. “Dearest,” said Montreal, “couldst thou know + how much any shadow of grief on thy bright face darkens my heart, thou + wouldst never grieve. But no wonder that in these rude walls—no + female of equal rank near thee, and such mirth as Montreal can summon to + his halls, grating to thy ear—no wonder that thou repentest thee of + thy choice.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, no—no, Walter, I never repent. I did but think of our child as + you entered. Alas! he was our only child! How fair he was, Walter; how he + resembled thee!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, he had thine eyes and brow,” replied the Knight, with a faltering + voice, and turning away his head. + </p> + <p> + “Walter,” resumed the lady, sighing, “do you remember?—this is his + birthday. He is ten years old today. We have loved each other eleven + years, and thou hast not tired yet of thy poor Adeline.” + </p> + <p> + “As well might the saints weary of paradise,” replied Montreal, with an + enamoured tenderness, which changed into softness the whole character of + his heroic countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Could I think so, I should indeed be blest!” answered Adeline. “But a + little while longer, and the few charms I yet possess must fade; and what + other claim have I on thee?” + </p> + <p> + “All claim;—the memory of thy first blushes—thy first kiss—of + thy devoted sacrifices—of thy patient wanderings—of thy + uncomplaining love! Ah, Adeline, we are of Provence, not of Italy; and + when did Knight of Provence avoid his foe, or forsake his love? But + enough, dearest, of home and melancholy for today. I come to bid thee + forth. I have sent on the servitors to pitch our tent beside the sea,—we + will enjoy the orange blossoms while we may. Ere another week pass over + us, we may have sterner pastime and closer confines.” + </p> + <p> + “How, dearest Walter! thou dost not apprehend danger?” + </p> + <p> + “Thou speakest, lady-bird,” said Montreal, laughing, “as if danger were + novelty; methinks by this time, thou shouldst know it as the atmosphere we + breathe.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Walter, is this to last for ever? Thou art now rich and renowned; + canst thou not abandon this career of strife?” + </p> + <p> + “Now, out on thee, Adeline! What are riches and renown but the means to + power! And for strife, the shield of warriors was my cradle—pray the + saints it be my bier! These wild and wizard extremes of life—from + the bower to the tent—from the cavern to the palace—today a + wandering exile, tomorrow the equal of kings—make the true element + of the chivalry of my Norman sires. Normandy taught me war, and sweet + Provence love. Kiss me, dear Adeline; and now let thy handmaids attire + thee. Forget not thy lute, sweet one. We will rouse the echoes with the + songs of Provence.” + </p> + <p> + The ductile temper of Adeline yielded easily to the gaiety of her lord; + and the party soon sallied from the castle towards the spot in which + Montreal had designed their resting-place during the heats of day. But + already prepared for all surprise, the castle was left strictly guarded, + and besides the domestic servitors of the castle, a detachment of ten + soldiers, completely armed, accompanied the lovers. Montreal himself wore + his corselet, and his squires followed with his helmet and lance. Beyond + the narrow defile at the base of the castle, the road at that day opened + into a broad patch of verdure, circled on all sides, save that open to the + sea, by wood, interspersed with myrtle and orange, and a wilderness of + odorous shrubs. In this space, and sheltered by the broad-spreading and + classic fagus (so improperly translated into the English “beech”), a gay + pavilion was prepared, which commanded the view of the sparkling sea;—shaded + from the sun, but open to the gentle breeze. This was poor Adeline’s + favourite recreation, if recreation it might be called. She rejoiced to + escape from the gloomy walls of her castellated prison, and to enjoy the + sunshine and the sweets of that voluptuous climate without the fatigue + which of late all exercise occasioned her. It was a gallantry on the part + of Montreal, who foresaw how short an interval might elapse before the + troops of Rienzi besieged his walls; and who was himself no less at home + in the bower than in the field. + </p> + <p> + As they reclined within the pavilion—the lover and his lady,—of + the attendants without, some lounged idly on the beach; some prepared the + awning of a pleasure-boat against the decline of the sun; some, in a ruder + tent, out of sight in the wood, arranged the mid-day repast; while the + strings of the lute, touched by Montreal himself with a careless skill, + gave their music to the dreamy stillness of the noon. + </p> + <p> + While thus employed, one of Montreal’s scouts arrived breathless and + heated at the tent. + </p> + <p> + “Captain,” said he, “a company of thirty lances completely armed, with a + long retinue of squires and pages, have just quitted Terracina. Their + banners bear the two-fold insignia of Rome and the Colonna.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho!” said Montreal, gaily, “such a troop is a welcome addition to our + company; send our squire hither.” + </p> + <p> + The squire appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Hie thee on thy steed towards the procession thou wilt meet with in the + pass, (nay, sweet lady mine, no forbiddal!) seek the chief, and say that + the good Knight Walter de Montreal sends him greeting, and prays him, in + passing our proper territory, to rest awhile with us a welcome guest; and—stay,—add, + that if to while an hour or so in gentle pastime be acceptable to him, + Walter de Montreal would rejoice to break a lance with him, or any knight + in his train, in honour of our respective ladies. Hie thee quick!” + </p> + <p> + “Walter, Walter,” began Adeline, who had that keen and delicate + sensitiveness to her situation, which her reckless lord often wantonly + forgot; “Walter, dear Walter, canst thou think it honour to—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush thee, sweet Fleur de lis! Thou hast not seen pastime this many a + day; I long to convince thee that thou art still the fairest lady in Italy—ay, + and of Christendom. But these Italians are craven knights, and thou needst + not fear that my proffer will be accepted. But in truth, lady mine, I + rejoice for graver objects, that chance throws a Roman noble, perhaps a + Colonna, in my way;—women understand not these matters; and aught + concerning Rome touches us home at this moment.” + </p> + <p> + With that the Knight frowned, as was his wont in thought, and Adeline + ventured to say no more, but retired to the interior division of the + pavilion. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the squire approached the procession that had now reached the + middle of the pass. And a stately and gallant company it was:—if the + complete harness of the soldiery seemed to attest a warlike purpose, it + was contradicted on the other hand by a numerous train of unarmed squires + and pages gorgeously attired, while the splendid blazon of two heralds + preceding the standard-bearers, proclaimed their object as peaceful, and + their path as sacred. It required but a glance at the company to tell the + leader. Arrayed in a breast-plate of steel, wrought profusely with gold + arabesques, over which was a mantle of dark green velvet, bordered with + pearls, while above his long dark locks waved a black ostrich plume in a + high Macedonian cap, such as, I believe, is now worn by the Grand Master + of the order of St. Constantine, rode in the front of the party, a young + cavalier, distinguished from his immediate comrades, partly by his + graceful presence and partly by his splendid dress. + </p> + <p> + The squire approached respectfully, and dismounting, delivered himself of + his charge. + </p> + <p> + The young cavalier smiled, as he answered, “Bear back to Sir Walter de + Montreal the greeting of Adrian Colonna, Baron di Castello, and say, that + the solemn object of my present journey will scarce permit me to encounter + the formidable lance of so celebrated a knight; and I regret this the + more, inasmuch as I may not yield to any dame the palm of my liege lady’s + beauty. I must live in hope of a happier occasion. For the rest, I will + cheerfully abide for some few hours the guest of so courteous a host.” + </p> + <p> + The squire bowed low. “My master,” said he, hesitatingly, “will grieve + much to miss so noble an opponent. But my message refers to all this + knightly and gallant train; and if the Lord Adrian di Castello deems + himself forbidden the joust by the object of his present journey, surely + one of his comrades will be his proxy with my master.” + </p> + <p> + Out and quickly spoke a young noble by the side of Adrian, Riccardo + Annibaldi, who afterwards did good service both to the Tribune and to + Rome, and whose valour brought him, in later life, to an untimely end. + </p> + <p> + “By the Lord Adrian’s permission,” cried he, “I will break a lance with—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush! Annibaldi,” interrupted Adrian. “And you, Sir Squire, know, that + Adrian di Castello permits no proxy in arms. Avise the Knight of St. John + that we accept his hospitality, and if, after some converse on graver + matters, he should still desire so light an entertainment, I will forget + that I am the ambassador to Naples, and remember only that I am a Knight + of the Empire. You have your answer.” + </p> + <p> + The squire with much ceremony made his obeisance, remounted his steed, and + returned in a half-gallop to his master. + </p> + <p> + “Forgive me, dear Annibaldi,” said Adrian, “that I balked your valour; and + believe me that I never more longed to break a lance against any man than + I do against this boasting Frenchman. But bethink you, that though to us, + brought up in the dainty laws of chivalry, Walter de Montreal is the + famous Knight of Provence, to the Tribune of Rome, whose grave mission we + now fulfil, he is but the mercenary captain of a Free Company. Grievously + in his eyes should we sully our dignity by so wanton and irrelevant a + holiday conflict with a declared and professional brigand.” + </p> + <p> + “For all that,” said Annibaldi, “the brigand ought not to boast that a + Roman knight shunned a Provencal lance.” + </p> + <p> + “Cease, I pray thee!” said Adrian, impatiently. In fact, the young + Colonna, already chafed bitterly against his discreet and dignified + rejection of Montreal’s proffer, and recollecting with much pique the + disparaging manner in which the Provencal had spoken of the Roman + chivalry, as well as a certain tone of superiority, which in all warlike + matters Montreal had assumed over him,—he now felt his cheek burn, + and his lip quiver. Highly skilled in the martial accomplishments of his + time, he had a natural and excusable desire to prove that he was at least + no unworthy antagonist even of the best lance in Italy: and, added to + this, the gallantry of the age made him feel it a sort of treason to his + mistress to forego any means of asserting her perfections. + </p> + <p> + It was, therefore, with considerable irritation that Adrian, as the + pavilion of Montreal became visible, perceived the squire returning to + him. And the reader will judge how much this was increased when the + latter, once more dismounting, accosted him thus: + </p> + <p> + “My master, the Knight of St. John, on hearing the courteous answer of the + Lord Adrian di Castello, bids me say, that lest the graver converse the + Lord Adrian refers to should mar gentle and friendly sport, he ventures + respectfully to suggest, that the tilt should preface the converse. The + sod before the tent is so soft and smooth, that even a fall could be + attended with no danger to knight or steed.” + </p> + <p> + “By our Lady!” cried Adrian and Annibaldi in a breath, “but thy last words + are discourteous; and” (proceeded Adrian, recovering himself) “since thy + master will have it so, let him look to his horse’s girths. I will not + gainsay his fancy.” + </p> + <p> + Montreal, who had thus insisted upon the exhibition, partly, it may be, + from the gay and ruffling bravado, common still amongst his brave + countrymen; partly because he was curious of exhibiting before those who + might soon be his open foes his singular and unrivalled address in arms, + was yet more moved to it on learning the name of the leader of the Roman + Company; for his vain and haughty spirit, however it had disguised + resentment at the time, had by no means forgiven certain warm expressions + of Adrian in the palace of Stephen Colonna, and in the unfortunate journey + to Corneto. While Adrian, halting at the entrance of the defile, aided by + his squires, indignantly, but carefully, indued the rest of his armour, + and saw, himself, to the girths, stirrup-leathers, and various buckles in + the caparison of his noble charger, Montreal in great glee kissed his + lady, who, though too soft to be angry, was deeply vexed, (and yet her + vexation half forgotten in fear for his safety,) snatched up her scarf of + blue, which he threw over his breastplate, and completed his array with + the indifference of a man certain of victory. He was destined, however, to + one disadvantage, and that the greatest; his armour and lance had been + brought from the castle—not his warhorse. His palfrey was too slight + to bear the great weight of his armour, nor amongst his troop was there + one horse that for power and bone could match with Adrian’s. He chose, + however, the strongest that was at hand, and a loud shout from his wild + followers testified their admiration when he sprung unaided from the + ground into the saddle—a rare and difficult feat of agility in a man + completely arrayed in the ponderous armour which issued at that day from + the forges of Milan, and was worn far more weighty in Italy than any other + part of Europe. While both companies grouped slowly, and mingled in a kind + of circle round the green turf, and the Roman heralds, with bustling + importance, attempted to marshal the spectators into order, Montreal rode + his charger round the sward, forcing it into various caracoles, and + exhibiting, with the vanity that belonged to him, his exquisite and + practised horsemanship. + </p> + <p> + At length, Adrian, his visor down, rode slowly into the green space, + amidst the cheers of his party. The two Knights, at either end, gravely + fronted each other; they made the courtesies with their lances, which, in + friendly and sportive encounters, were customary; and, as they thus paused + for the signal of encounter, the Italians trembled for the honour of their + chief: Montreal’s stately height and girth of chest forming a strong + contrast, even in armour, to the form of his opponent, which was rather + under the middle standard, and though firmly knit, slightly and slenderly + built. But to that perfection was skill in arms brought in those times, + that great strength and size were far from being either the absolute + requisites, or even the usual attributes, of the more celebrated knights; + in fact, so much was effected by the power and the management of the + steed, that a light weight in the rider was often rather to his advantage + than his prejudice: and, even at a later period, the most accomplished + victors in the tourney, the French Bayard and the English Sydney, were far + from remarkable either for bulk or stature. + </p> + <p> + Whatever the superiority of Montreal in physical power, was, in much, + counterbalanced by the inferiority of his horse, which, though a + thick-built and strong Calabrian, had neither the blood, bone, nor + practised discipline of the northern charger of the Roman. The shining + coat of the latter, coal black, was set off by a scarlet cloth wrought in + gold; the neck and shoulders were clad in scales of mail; and from the + forehead projected a long point, like the horn of an unicorn, while on its + crest waved a tall plume of scarlet and white feathers. As the mission of + Adrian to Naples was that of pomp and ceremony to a court of great + splendour, so his array and retinue were befitting the occasion and the + passion for show that belonged to the time; and the very bridle of his + horse, which was three inches broad, was decorated with gold, and even + jewels. The Knight himself was clad in mail, which had tested the finest + art of the celebrated Ludovico of Milan; and, altogether, his appearance + was unusually gallant and splendid, and seemed still more so beside the + plain but brightly polished and artfully flexile armour of Montreal, + (adorned only with his lady’s scarf,) and the common and rude mail of his + charger. This contrast, however, was not welcome to the Provencal, whose + vanity was especially indulged in warlike equipments; and who, had he + foreseen the “pastime” that awaited him, would have outshone even the + Colonna. + </p> + <p> + The trumpeters of either party gave a short blast—the Knights + remained erect as statues of iron; a second, and each slightly bent over + his saddle-bow; a third, and with spears couched, slackened reins, and at + full speed, on they rushed, and fiercely they met midway. With the + reckless arrogance which belonged to him, Montreal had imagined, that at + the first touch of his lance Adrian would have been unhorsed; but to his + great surprise the young Roman remained firm, and amidst the shouts of his + party, passed on to the other end of the lists. Montreal himself was + rudely shaken, but lost neither seat nor stirrup. + </p> + <p> + “This can be no carpet knight,” muttered Montreal between his teeth, as, + this time, he summoned all his skill for a second encounter; while Adrian, + aware of the great superiority of his charger, resolved to bring it to + bear against his opponent. Accordingly, when the Knights again rushed + forward, Adrian, covering himself well with his buckler, directed his care + less against the combatant, whom he felt no lance wielded by mortal hand + was likely to dislodge, than against the less noble animal he bestrode. + The shock of Montreal’s charge was like an avalanche—his lance + shivered into a thousand pieces, Adrian lost both stirrups, and but for + the strong iron bows which guarded the saddle in front and rear, would + have been fairly unhorsed; as it was, he was almost doubled back by the + encounter, and his ears rung and his eyes reeled, so that for a moment or + two he almost lost all consciousness. But his steed had well repaid its + nurture and discipline. Just as the combatants closed, the animal, rearing + on high, pressed forward with its mighty crest against its opponent with a + force so irresistible as to drive back Montreal’s horse several paces: + while Adrian’s lance, poised with exquisite skill, striking against the + Provencal’s helmet, somewhat rudely diverted the Knight’s attention for + the moment from his rein. Montreal, drawing the curb too tightly in the + suddenness of his recovery, the horse reared on end; and, receiving at + that instant, full upon his breastplate, the sharp horn and mailed crest + of Adrian’s charger—fell back over its rider upon the sward. + Montreal disencumbered himself in great rage and shame, as a faint cry + from his pavilion reached his ear, and redoubled his mortification. He + rose with a lightness which astonished the beholders; for so heavy was the + armour worn at that day, that few knights once stretched upon the ground + could rise without assistance; and drawing his sword, cried out fiercely—“On + foot, on foot!—the fall was not mine, but this accursed beast’s, + that I must needs for my sins raise to the rank of a charger. Come on—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, Sir Knight,” said Adrian, drawing off his gauntlets and unbuckling + his helmet, which he threw on the ground, “I come to thee a guest and a + friend; but to fight on foot is the encounter of mortal foes. Did I accept + thy offer, my defeat would but stain thy knighthood.” + </p> + <p> + Montreal, whose passion had beguiled him for the moment, sullenly + acquiesced in this reasoning. Adrian hastened to soothe his antagonist. + “For the rest,” said he, “I cannot pretend to the prize. Your lance lost + me my stirrups—mine left you unshaken. You say right; the defeat, if + any, was that of your steed.” + </p> + <p> + “We may meet again when I am more equally horsed,” said Montreal, still + chafing. + </p> + <p> + “Now, our Lady forbid!” exclaimed Adrian, with so devout an earnestness + that the bystanders could not refrain from laughing; and even Montreal + grimly and half-reluctantly, joined in the merriment. The courtesy of his + foe, however, conciliated and touched the more frank and soldierly + qualities of his nature, and composing himself, he replied:— + </p> + <p> + “Signor di Castello, I rest your debtor for a courtesy that I have but + little imitated. Howbeit, if thou wouldst bind me to thee for ever, thou + wilt suffer me to send for my own charger, and afford me a chance to + retrieve mine honour. With that steed, or with one equal to thine, which + seems to me of the English breed, I will gage all I possess, lands, + castle, and gold, sword and spurs, to maintain this pass, one by one, + against all thy train.” + </p> + <p> + Fortunately, perhaps, for Adrian, ere he could reply, Riccardo Annibaldi + cried, with great warmth, “Sir Knight, I have with me two steeds well + practised in the tourney; take thy choice, and accept in me a champion of + the Roman against the French chivalry;—there is my gage.” + </p> + <p> + “Signor,” replied Montreal, with ill-suppressed delight, “thy proffer + shows so gallant and free a spirit, that it were foul sin in me to balk + it. I accept thy gage, and whichever of thy steeds thou rejectest, in + God’s name bring it hither, and let us waste no words before action.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian, who felt that hitherto the Romans had been more favoured by + fortune than merit, vainly endeavoured to prevent this second hazard. But + Annibaldi was greatly chafed, and his high rank rendered it impolitic in + Adrian to offend him by peremptory prohibition; the Colonna reluctantly, + therefore, yielded his assent to the engagement. Annibaldi’s steeds were + led to the spot, the one a noble roan, the other a bay, of somewhat less + breeding and bone, but still of great strength and price. Montreal finding + the choice pressed upon him, gallantly selected the latter and less + excellent. + </p> + <p> + Annibaldi was soon arrayed for the encounter, and Adrian gave the word to + the trumpeters. The Roman was of a stature almost equal to that of + Montreal, and though some years younger, seemed, in his armour, nearly of + the same thews and girth, so that the present antagonists appeared at the + first glance more evenly matched than the last. But this time Montreal, + well horsed, inspired to the utmost by shame and pride, felt himself a + match for an army; and he met the young Baron with such prowess, that + while the very plume on his casque seemed scarcely stirred, the Italian + was thrown several paces from his steed, and it was not till some moments + after his visor was removed by his squires that he recovered his senses. + This event restored Montreal to all his natural gaiety of humour, and + effectually raised the spirits of his followers, who had felt much humbled + by the previous encounter. + </p> + <p> + He himself assisted Annibaldi to rise with great courtesy, and a profusion + of compliments, which the proud Roman took in stern silence, and then led + the way to the pavilion, loudly ordering the banquet to be spread. + Annibaldi, however, loitered behind, and Adrian, who penetrated his + thoughts, and who saw that over their cups a quarrel between the Provencal + and his friend was likely to ensue, drawing him aside, said:—“Methinks, + dear Annibaldi, it would be better if you, with the chief of our + following, were to proceed onward to Fondi, where I will join you at + sunset. My squires, and some eight lances, will suffice for my safeguard + here; and, to say truth, I desire a few private words with our strange + host, in the hope that he may be peaceably induced to withdraw from hence + without the help of our Roman troops, who have enough elsewhere to feed + their valour.” + </p> + <p> + Annibaldi pressed his companion’s hand: “I understand thee,” he replied + with a slight blush, “and, indeed, I could but ill brook the complacent + triumph of the barbarian. I accept thy offer.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0023" id="link2HCH0023"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 3.III. The Conversation between the Roman and the + </h2> + <p> + Provencal—Adeline’s History—the Moonlit Sea—the Lute and + the Song. + </p> + <p> + As soon as Annibaldi, with the greater part of the retinue, was gone, + Adrian, divesting himself of his heavy greaves, entered alone the pavilion + of the Knight of St. John. Montreal had already doffed all his armour, + save the breastplate, and he now stepped forward to welcome his guest with + the winning and easy grace which better suited his birth than his + profession. He received Adrian’s excuses for the absence of Annibaldi and + the other knights of his train with a smile which seemed to prove how + readily he divined the cause, and conducted him to the other and more + private division of the pavilion in which the repast (rendered acceptable + by the late exercise of guest and host) was prepared; and here Adrian for + the first time discovered Adeline. Long inurement to the various and + roving life of her lover, joined to a certain pride which she derived from + conscious, though forfeited, rank, gave to the outward manner of that + beautiful lady an ease and freedom which often concealed, even from + Montreal, her sensitiveness to her unhappy situation. At times, indeed, + when alone with Montreal, whom she loved with all the devotion of romance, + she was sensible only to the charm of a presence which consoled her for + all things; but in his frequent absence, or on the admission of any + stranger, the illusion vanished—the reality returned. Poor lady! + Nature had not formed, education had not reared, habit had not reconciled, + her to the breath of shame! + </p> + <p> + The young Colonna was much struck by her beauty, and more by her gentle + and highborn grace. Like her lord she appeared younger than she was; time + seemed to spare a bloom which an experienced eye might have told was + destined to an early grave; and there was something almost girlish in the + lightness of her form—the braided luxuriance of her rich auburn + hair, and the colour that went and came, not only with every moment, but + almost with every word. The contrast between her and Montreal became them + both—it was the contrast of devoted reliance and protecting + strength: each looked fairer in the presence of the other: and as Adrian + sate down to the well-laden board, he thought he had never seen a pair + more formed for the poetic legends of their native Troubadours. + </p> + <p> + Montreal conversed gaily upon a thousand matters—pressed the wine + flasks—and selected for his guest the most delicate portions of the + delicious spicola of the neighbouring sea, and the rich flesh of the wild + boar of the Pontine Marshes. + </p> + <p> + “Tell me,” said Montreal, as their hunger was now appeased—“tell me, + noble Adrian, how fares your kinsman, Signor Stephen? A brave old man for + his years.” + </p> + <p> + “He bears him as the youngest of us,” answered Adrian. + </p> + <p> + “Late events must have shocked him a little,” said Montreal, with an arch + smile. “Ah, you look grave—yet commend my foresight;—I was the + first who prophesied to thy kinsman the rise of Cola di Rienzi; he seems a + great man—never more great than in conciliating the Colonna and the + Orsini.” + </p> + <p> + “The Tribune,” returned Adrian, evasively, “is certainly a man of + extraordinary genius. And now, seeing him command, my only wonder is how + he ever brooked to obey—majesty seems a very part of him.” + </p> + <p> + “Men who win power, easily put on its harness, dignity,” answered + Montreal; “and if I hear aright—(pledge me to your lady’s health)—the + Tribune, if not himself nobly born will soon be nobly connected.” + </p> + <p> + “He is already married to a Raselli, an old Roman house,” replied Adrian. + </p> + <p> + “You evade my pursuit,—Le doulx soupir! le doulx soupir! as the old + Cabestan has it”—said Montreal, laughing. “Well, you have pledged me + one cup to your lady, pledge another to the fair Irene, the Tribune’s + sister—always provided they two are not one.—You smile and + shake your head.” + </p> + <p> + “I do not disguise from you, Sir Knight,” answered Adrian, “that when my + present embassy is over, I trust the alliance between the Tribune and a + Colonna will go far towards the benefit of both.” + </p> + <p> + “I have heard rightly, then,” said Montreal, in a grave and thoughtful + tone. “Rienzi’s power must, indeed, be great.” + </p> + <p> + “Of that my mission is a proof. Are you aware, Signor de Montreal, that + Louis, King of Hungary—” + </p> + <p> + “How! what of him?” + </p> + <p> + “Has referred the decision of the feud between himself and Joanna of + Naples, respecting the death of her royal spouse, his brother, to the fiat + of the Tribune? This is the first time, methinks, since the death of + Constantine, that so great a confidence and so high a charge were ever + intrusted to a Roman!” + </p> + <p> + “By all the saints in the calendar,” cried Montreal, crossing himself, + “this news is indeed amazing! The fierce Louis of Hungary waive the right + of the sword, and choose other umpire than the field of battle!” + </p> + <p> + “And this,” continued Adrian, in a significant tone, “this it was which + induced me to obey your courteous summons. I know, brave Montreal, that + you hold intercourse with Louis. Louis has given to the Tribune the best + pledge of his amity and alliance; will you do wisely if you—” + </p> + <p> + “Wage war with the Hungarian’s ally,” interrupted Montreal. “This you were + about to add; the same thought crossed myself. My Lord, pardon me—Italians + sometimes invent what they wish. On the honour of a knight of the Empire, + these tidings are the naked truth?” + </p> + <p> + “By my honour, and on the Cross,” answered Adrian, drawing himself up; + “and in proof thereof, I am now bound to Naples to settle with the Queen + the preliminaries of the appointed trial.” + </p> + <p> + “Two crowned heads before the tribunal of a plebeian, and one a defendant + against the charge of murther!” muttered Montreal; “the news might well + amaze me!” + </p> + <p> + He remained musing and silent a little while, till looking up, he caught + Adeline’s tender gaze fixed upon him with that deep solicitude with which + she watched the outward effect of schemes and projects she was too soft to + desire to know, and too innocent to share. + </p> + <p> + “Lady mine,” said the Provencal, fondly, “how sayest thou? must we abandon + our mountain castle, and these wild woodland scenes, for the dull walls of + a city? I fear me so.—The Lady Adeline,” he continued, turning to + Adrian, “is of a singular bias; she hates the gay crowds of streets and + thoroughfares, and esteems no palace like the solitary outlaw’s hold. Yet, + methinks, she might outshine all the faces of Italy,—thy mistress, + Lord Adrian, of course, excepted.” + </p> + <p> + “It is an exception which only a lover, and that too a betrothed lover, + would dare to make,” replied Adrian, gallantly. + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said Adeline, in a voice singularly sweet and clear, “nay, I know + well at what price to value my lord’s flattery, and Signor di Castello’s + courtesy. But you are bound, Sir Knight, to a court, that, if fame speak + true, boasts in its Queen the very miracle and mould of beauty.” + </p> + <p> + “It is some years since I saw the Queen of Naples,” answered Adrian; “and + I little dreamed then, when I gazed upon that angel face, that I should + live to hear her accused of the foulest murther that ever stained even + Italian royalty.” + </p> + <p> + “And, as if resolved to prove her guilt,” said Montreal, “ere long be sure + she will marry the very man who did the deed. Of this I have certain + proof.” + </p> + <p> + Thus conversing, the Knights wore away the daylight, and beheld from the + open tent the sun cast his setting glow over the purple sea. Adeline had + long retired from the board, and they now saw her seated with her + handmaids on a mound by the beach; while the sound of her lute faintly + reached their ears. As Montreal caught the air, he turned from the + converse, and sighing, half shaded his face with his hand. Somehow or + other the two Knights had worn away all the little jealousy or pique which + they had conceived against each other at Rome. Both imbued with the + soldier-like spirit of the age, their contest in the morning had served to + inspire them with that strange kind of respect, and even cordiality, which + one brave man even still (how much more at that day!) feels for another, + whose courage he has proved while vindicating his own. It is like the + discovery of a congenial sentiment hitherto latent; and, in a life of + camps, often establishes sudden and lasting friendship in the very lap of + enmity. This feeling had been ripened by their subsequent familiar + intercourse, and was increased on Adrian’s side by the feeling, that in + convincing Montreal of the policy of withdrawing from the Roman + territories, he had obtained an advantage that well repaid whatever danger + and delay he had undergone. + </p> + <p> + The sigh, and the altered manner of Montreal, did not escape Adrian, and + he naturally connected it with something relating to her whose music had + been its evident cause. + </p> + <p> + “Yon lovely dame,” said he, gently, “touches the lute with an exquisite + and fairy hand, and that plaintive air seems to my ear as of the + minstrelsy of Provence.” + </p> + <p> + “It is the air I taught her,” said Montreal, sadly, “married as it is to + indifferent words, with which I first wooed a heart that should never have + given itself to me! Ay, young Colonna, many a night has my boat been + moored beneath the starlit Sorgia that washes her proud father’s halls, + and my voice awaked the stillness of the waving sedges with a soldier’s + serenade. Sweet memories! bitter fruit!” + </p> + <p> + “Why bitter? ye love each other still.” + </p> + <p> + “But I am vowed to celibacy, and Adeline de Courval is leman where she + should be wedded dame. Methinks I fret at that thought even more than she,—dear + Adeline!” + </p> + <p> + “Your lady, as all would guess, is then nobly born?” + </p> + <p> + “She is,” answered Montreal, with a deep and evident feeling which, save + in love, rarely, if ever, crossed his hardy breast. “She is! our tale is a + brief one:—we loved each other as children: Her family was wealthier + than mine: We were separated. I was given to understand that she abandoned + me. I despaired, and in despair I took the cross of St. John. Chance threw + us again together. I learned that her love was undecayed. Poor child!—she + was even then, sir, but a child! I, wild,—reckless—and not + unskilled, perhaps, in the arts that woo and win. She could not resist my + suit or her own affection!—We fled. In those words you see the + thread of my after history. My sword and my Adeline were all my fortune. + Society frowned on us. The Church threatened my soul. The Grand Master my + life. I became a knight of fortune. Fate and my right hand favoured me. I + have made those who scorned me tremble at my name. That name shall yet + blaze, a star or a meteor, in the front of troubled nations, and I may yet + win by force from the Pontiff the dispensation refused to my prayers. On + the same day, I may offer Adeline the diadem and the ring.—Eno’ of + this;—you marked Adeline’s cheek!—Seems it not delicate? I + like not that changeful flush,—and she moves languidly,—her + step that was so blithe!” + </p> + <p> + “Change of scene and the mild south will soon restore her health,” said + Adrian; “and in your peculiar life she is so little brought in contact + with others, especially of her own sex, that I trust she is but seldom + made aware of whatever is painful in her situation. And woman’s love, + Montreal, as we both have learned, is a robe that wraps her from many a + storm!” + </p> + <p> + “You speak kindly,” returned the Knight; “but you know not all our cause + of grief. Adeline’s father, a proud sieur, died,—they said of a + broken heart,—but old men die of many another disease than that! The + mother, a dame who boasted her descent from princes, bore the matter more + sternly than the sire; clamoured for revenge,—which was odd, for she + is as religious as a Dominican, and revenge is not Christian in a woman, + though it is knightly in a man!—Well, my Lord, we had one boy, our + only child; he was Adeline’s solace in my absence,—his pretty ways + were worth the world to her! She loved him so, that, but he had her eyes + and looked like her when he slept, I should have been jealous! He grew up + in our wild life, strong and comely; the young rogue, he would have been a + brave knight! My evil stars led me to Milan, where I had business with the + Visconti. One bright morning in June, our boy was stolen; verily that June + was like a December to us!” + </p> + <p> + “Stolen!—how?—by whom?” + </p> + <p> + “The first question is answered easily,—the boy was with his nurse + in the courtyard, the idle wench left him for but a minute or two—so + she avers—fetch him some childish toy; when she returned he was + gone; not a trace left, save his pretty cap with the plume in it! Poor + Adeline, many a time have I found her kissing that relic till it was wet + with tears!” + </p> + <p> + “A strange fortune, in truth. But what interest could—” + </p> + <p> + “I will tell you,” interrupted Montreal, “the only conjecture I could + form;—Adeline’s mother, on learning we had a son, sent to Adeline a + letter, that well nigh broke her heart, reproaching her for her love to + me, and so forth, as if that had made her the vilest of the sex. She bade + her take compassion on her child, and not bring him up to a robber’s life,—so + was she pleased to style the bold career of Walter de Montreal. She + offered to rear the child in her own dull halls, and fit him, no doubt, + for a shaven pate and a monk’s cowl. She chafed much that a mother would + not part with her treasure! She alone, partly in revenge, partly in silly + compassion for Adeline’s child, partly, it may be, from some pious + fanaticism, could, it so seemed to me, have robbed us of our boy. On + inquiry, I learned from the nurse—who, but that she was of the same + sex as Adeline, should have tasted my dagger,—that in their walks, a + woman of advanced years, but seemingly of humble rank, (that might be + disguise!) had often stopped, and caressed and admired the child. I + repaired at once to France, sought the old Castle of De Courval;—it + had passed to the next heir, and the old widow was go on, none knew + whither, but, it was conjectured, to take the veil in some remote + convent.” + </p> + <p> + “And you never saw her since?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, at Rome,” answered Montreal, turning pale; “when last there I + chanced suddenly upon her; and then at length I learned my boy’s fate, and + the truth of my own surmise; she confessed to the theft—and my child + was dead! I have not dared to tell Adeline of this; it seems to me as if + it would be like plucking the shaft from the wounded side—and she + would die at once, bereft of the uncertainty that rankles within her. She + has still a hope—it comforts her; though my heart bleeds when I + think on its vanity. Let this pass, my Colonna.” + </p> + <p> + And Montreal started to his feet as if he strove, by a strong effort, to + shake off the weakness that had crept over him in his narration. + </p> + <p> + “Think no more of it. Life is short—its thorns are many—let us + not neglect any of its flowers. This is piety and wisdom too; Nature that + meant me to struggle and to toil, gave me, happily, the sanguine heart and + the elastic soul of France; and I have lived long enough to own that to + die young is not an evil. Come, Lord Adrian, let us join my lady ere you + part, if part you must; the moon will be up soon, and Fondi is but a short + journey hence. You know that though I admire not your Petrarch, you with + more courtesy laud our Provencal ballads, and you must hear Adeline sing + one that you may prize them the more. The race of the Troubadours is dead, + but the minstrelsy survives the minstrel!” + </p> + <p> + Adrian, who scarce knew what comfort to administer to the affliction of + his companion, was somewhat relieved by the change in his mood, though his + more grave and sensitive nature was a little startled at its suddenness. + But, as we have before seen, Montreal’s spirit (and this made perhaps its + fascination) was as a varying and changeful sky; the gayest sunshine, and + the fiercest storm swept over it in rapid alternation; and elements of + singular might and grandeur, which, properly directed and concentrated, + would have made him the blessing and glory of his time, were wielded with + a boyish levity, roused into war and desolation, or lulled into repose and + smoothness, with all the suddenness of chance, and all the fickleness of + caprice. + </p> + <p> + Sauntering down to the beach, the music of Adeline’s lute sounded more + distinctly in their ears, and involuntarily they hushed their steps upon + the rich and odorous turf, as in a voice, though not powerful, + marvellously sweet and clear, and well adapted to the simple fashion of + the words and melody, she sang the following stanzas:— + </p> + <p> + Lay of the Lady of Provence. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1. + + Ah, why art thou sad, my heart? Why + Darksome and lonely? + Frowns the face of the happy sky + Over thee only? + Ah me, ah me! + Render to joy the earth! + Grief shuns, not envies, Mirth; + But leave one quiet spot, + Where Mirth may enter not, + To sigh, Ah, me!— + Ah me. + + 2. + + As a bird, though the sky be clear, + Feels the storm lower; + My soul bodes the tempest near, + In the sunny hour; + Ah me, ah me! + Be glad while yet we may! + I bid thee, my heart, be gay; + And still I know not why,— + Thou answerest with a sigh, + (Fond heart!) Ah me!— + Ah me! + + 3. + + As this twilight o’er the skies, + Doubt brings the sorrow; + Who knows when the daylight dies, + What waits the morrow? + Ah me, ah me! + Be blithe, be blithe, my lute, + Thy strings will soon be mute; + Be blithe—hark! while it dies, + The note forewarning, sighs + Its last—Ah me! + Ah me! +</pre> + <p> + “My own Adeline—my sweetest night-bird,” half-whispered Montreal, + and softly approaching, he threw himself at his lady’s feet—“thy + song is too sad for this golden eve.” + </p> + <p> + “No sound ever went to the heart,” said Adrian, “whose arrow was not + feathered by sadness. True sentiment, Montreal, is twin with melancholy, + though not with gloom.” + </p> + <p> + The lady looked softly and approvingly up at Adrian’s face; she was + pleased with its expression; she was pleased yet more with words of which + women rather than men would acknowledge the truth. Adrian returned the + look with one of deep and eloquent sympathy and respect; in fact, the + short story he had heard from Montreal had interested him deeply in her; + and never to the brilliant queen, to whose court he was bound, did his + manner wear so chivalric and earnest a homage as it did to that lone and + ill-fated lady on the twilight shores of Terracina. + </p> + <p> + Adeline blushed slightly and sighed; and then, to break the awkwardness of + a pause which had stolen over them, as Montreal, unheeding the last remark + of Adrian, was tuning the strings of the lute, she said—“Of course + the Signor di Castello shares the universal enthusiasm for Petrarch?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” cried Montreal; “my lady is Petrarch mad, like the rest of them: but + all I know is, that never did belted knight and honest lover woo in such + fantastic and tortured strains.” + </p> + <p> + “In Italy,” answered Adrian, “common language is exaggeration;—but + even your own Troubadour poetry might tell you that love, ever seeking a + new language of its own, cannot but often run into what to all but lovers + seems distortion and conceit.” + </p> + <p> + “Come, dear Signor,” said Montreal, placing the lute in Adrian’s hands, + “let Adeline be the umpire between us, which music—yours or mine—can + woo the more blandly.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Adrian, laughing; “I fear me, Sir Knight, you have already + bribed the umpire.” + </p> + <p> + Montreal’s eyes and Adeline’s met; and in that gaze Adeline forgot all her + sorrows. + </p> + <p> + With a practised and skilful hand, Adrian touched the strings; and + selecting a song which was less elaborate than those mostly in vogue + amongst his countrymen, though still conceived in the Italian spirit, and + in accordance with the sentiment he had previously expressed to Adeline, + he sang as follows:— + </p> + <p> + Love’s Excuse for Sadness. + </p> + <p> + Chide not, beloved, if oft with thee I feel not rapture wholly; For aye + the heart that’s fill’d with love, Runs o’er in melancholy. To streams + that glide in noon, the shade From summer skies is given; So, if my breast + reflects the cloud, ‘Tis but the cloud of heaven! Thine image glass’d + within my soul So well the mirror keepeth; That, chide me not, if with the + light The shadow also sleepeth. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Adrian, as he concluded, “the lute is to you: I but + preclude your prize.” + </p> + <p> + The Provencal laughed, and shook his head.—“With any other umpire, I + had had my lute broken on my own head, for my conceit in provoking such a + rival; but I must not shrink from a contest I have myself provoked, even + though in one day twice defeated.” And with that, in a deep and + exquisitely melodious voice, which wanted only more scientific culture to + have challenged any competition, the Knight of St. John poured forth: + </p> + <p> + The Lay of the Troubadour. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1. + + Gentle river, the moonbeam is hush’d on thy tide, + On thy pathway of light to my lady I glide. + My boat, where the stream laves the castle, I moor,— + All at rest save the maid and her young Troubadour! + As the stars to the waters that bore + My bark, to my spirit thou art; + Heaving yet, see it bound to the shore, + So moor’d to thy beauty my heart,— + Bel’ amie, bel’ amie, bel’ amie! + + 2. + + Wilt thou fly from the world? It hath wealth for the vain; + But Love breaks his bond when there’s gold in the chain; + Wilt thou fly from the world? It hath courts for the proud;— + But Love, born in caves, pines to death in the crowd. + Were this bosom thy world, dearest one, + Thy world could not fail to be bright; + For thou shouldst thyself be its sun, + And what spot could be dim in thy light— + Bel’ amie, bel’ amie, bel’ amie? + + 3. + + The rich and the great woo thee dearest; and poor, + Though his fathers were princes, thy young Troubadour! + But his heart never quail’d save to thee, his adored,— + There’s no guile in his lute, and no stain on his sword. + Ah, I reck not what sorrows I know, + Could I still on thy solace confide; + And I care not, though earth be my foe, + If thy soft heart be found by my side,— + Bel’ amie, bel’ amie, bel’ amie! + + 4. + + The maiden she blush’d, and the maiden she sighed, + Not a cloud in the sky, not a gale on the tide; + But though tempest had raged on the wave and the wind, + That castle, methinks, had been still left behind! + Sweet lily, though bow’d by the blast, + (To this bosom transplanted) since then, + Wouldst thou change, could we call the past, + To the rock from thy garden again— + Bel’ amie, bel’ amie, bel’ amie? +</pre> + <p> + Thus they alternated the time with converse and song, as the wooded hills + threw their sharp, long shadows over the sea; while from many a mound of + waking flowers, and many a copse of citron and orange, relieved by the + dark and solemn aloe, stole the summer breeze, laden with mingled odours; + and, over the seas, coloured by the slow-fading hues of purple and rose, + that the sun had long bequeathed to the twilight, flitted the gay + fireflies that sparkle along that enchanted coast. At length, the moon + slowly rose above the dark forest-steeps, gleaming on the gay pavilion and + glittering pennon of Montreal,—on the verdant sward,—the + polished mail of the soldiers, stretched on the grass in various groups, + half-shaded by oaks and cypress, and the war-steeds grazing peaceably + together—a wild mixture of the Pastoral and the Iron time. + </p> + <p> + Adrian, reluctantly reminded of his journey, rose to depart. + </p> + <p> + “I fear,” said he to Adeline, “that I have already detained you too late + in the night air: but selfishness is little considerate.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, you see we are prudent,” said Adeline, pointing to Montreal’s + mantle, which his provident hand had long since drawn around her form; + “but if you must part, farewell, and success attend you!” + </p> + <p> + “We may meet again, I trust,” said Adrian. + </p> + <p> + Adeline sighed gently; and the Colonna, gazing on her face by the + moonlight, to which it was slightly raised, was painfully struck by its + almost transparent delicacy. Moved by his compassion, ere he mounted his + steed, he drew Montreal aside,—“Forgive me if I seem presumptuous,” + said he; “but to one so noble this wild life is scarce a fitting career. I + know that, in our time, War consecrates all his children; but surely a + settled rank in the court of the Emperor, or an honourable reconciliation + with your knightly brethren, were better—” + </p> + <p> + “Than a Tartar camp, and a brigand’s castle,” interrupted Montreal, with + some impatience. “This you were about to say—you are mistaken. + Society thrust me from her bosom; let society take the fruit it hath sown. + ‘A fixed rank,’ say you? some subaltern office, to fight at other men’s + command! You know me not: Walter de Montreal was not formed to obey. War + when I will, and rest when I list, is the motto of my escutcheon. Ambition + proffers me rewards you wot not of; and I am of the mould as of the race + of those whose swords have conquered thrones. For the rest, your news of + the alliance of Louis of Hungary with your Tribune makes it necessary for + the friend of Louis to withdraw from all feud with Rome. Ere the week + expire, the owl and the bat may seek refuge in yon grey turrets.” + </p> + <p> + “But your lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Is inured to change.—God help her, and temper the rough wind to the + lamb!” + </p> + <p> + “Enough, Sir Knight: but should you desire a sure refuge at Rome for one + so gentle and so highborn, by the right hand of a knight, I promise a safe + roof and an honoured home to the Lady Adeline.” + </p> + <p> + Montreal pressed the offered hand to his heart; then plucking his own + hastily away, drew it across his eyes, and joined Adeline, in a silence + that showed he dared not trust himself to speak. In a few moments Adrian + and his train were on the march; but still the young Colonna turned back, + to gaze once more on his wild host and that lovely lady, as they + themselves lingered on the moonlit sward, while the sea rippled mournfully + on their ears. + </p> + <p> + It was not many months after that date, that the name of Fra Monreale + scattered terror and dismay throughout the fair Campania. The right hand + of the Hungarian king, in his invasion of Naples, he was chosen afterwards + vicar (or vice-gerent) of Louis in Aversa; and fame and fate seemed to + lead him triumphantly along that ambitious career which he had elected, + whether bounded by the scaffold or the throne. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0030" id="link2H_4_0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK IV. THE TRIUMPH AND THE POMP. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Allora fama e paura di si buono reggimento, passa in ogni + terra.”—“Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. i. cap. 21. + + “Then the fame and the fear of that so good government + passed into every land.”—“Life of Cola di Rienzi”. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0024" id="link2HCH0024"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 4.I. The Boy Angelo—the Dream of Nina Fulfilled. + </h2> + <p> + The thread of my story transports us back to Rome. It was in a small + chamber, in a ruinous mansion by the base of Mount Aventine, that a young + boy sate, one evening, with a woman of a tall and stately form, but + somewhat bowed both by infirmity and years. The boy was of a fair and + comely presence; and there was that in his bold, frank, undaunted + carriage, which made him appear older than he was. + </p> + <p> + The old woman, seated in the recess of the deep window, was apparently + occupied with a Bible that lay open on her knees; but ever and anon she + lifted her eyes, and gazed on her young companion with a sad and anxious + expression. + </p> + <p> + “Dame,” said the boy, who was busily employed in hewing out a sword of + wood, “I would you had seen the show today. Why, every day is a show at + Rome now! It is show enough to see the Tribune himself on his white steed—(oh, + it is so beautiful!)—with his white robes all studded with jewels. + But today, as I have just been telling you, the Lady Nina took notice of + me, as I stood on the stairs of the Capitol: you know, dame, I had donned + my best blue velvet doublet.” + </p> + <p> + “And she called you a fair boy, and asked if you would be her little page; + and this has turned thy brain, silly urchin that thou art—” + </p> + <p> + “But the words are the least: if you saw the Lady Nina, you would own that + a smile from her might turn the wisest head in Italy. Oh, how I should + like to serve the Tribune! All the lads of my age are mad for him. How + they will stare, and envy me at school tomorrow! You know too, dame, that + though I was not always brought up at Rome, I am Roman. Every Roman loves + Rienzi.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, for the hour: the cry will soon change. This vanity of thine, Angelo, + vexes my old heart. I would thou wert humbler.” + </p> + <p> + “Bastards have their own name to win,” said the boy, colouring deeply. + “They twit me in the teeth, because I cannot say who my father and mother + were.” + </p> + <p> + “They need not,” returned the dame, hastily. “Thou comest of noble blood + and long descent, though, as I have told thee often, I know not the exact + names of thy parents. But what art thou shaping that tough sapling of oak + into?” + </p> + <p> + “A sword, dame, to assist the Tribune against the robbers.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! I fear me, like all those who seek power in Italy, he is more + likely to enlist robbers than to assail them.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, la you there, you live so shut up, that you know and hear nothing, + or you would have learned that even that fiercest of all the robbers, Fra + Moreale, has at length yielded to the Tribune, and fled from his castle, + like a rat from a falling house.” + </p> + <p> + “How, how!” cried the dame; “what say you? Has this plebeian, whom you + call the Tribune—has he boldly thrown the gage to that dread + warrior? and has Montreal left the Roman territory?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, it is the talk of the town. But Fra Moreale seems as much a bugbear + to you as to e’er a mother in Rome. Did he ever wrong you, dame?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” exclaimed the old woman, with so abrupt a fierceness, that even + that hardy boy was startled. + </p> + <p> + “I wish I could meet him, then,” said he, after a pause, as he flourished + his mimic weapon. + </p> + <p> + “Now Heaven forbid! He is a man ever to be shunned by thee, whether for + peace or war. Say again this good Tribune holds no terms with the Free + Lances.” + </p> + <p> + “Say it again—why all Rome knows it.” + </p> + <p> + “He is pious, too, I have heard; and they do bruit it that he sees + visions, and is comforted from above,” said the woman, speaking to + herself. Then turning to Angelo, she continued,—“Thou wouldst like + greatly to accept the Lady Nina’s proffer?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that I should, dame, if you could spare me.” + </p> + <p> + “Child,” replied the matron, solemnly, “my sand is nearly run, and my wish + is to see thee placed with one who will nurture thy young years, and save + thee from a life of licence. That done, I may fulfil my vow, and devote + the desolate remnant of my years to God. I will think more of this, my + child. Not under such a plebeian’s roof shouldst thou have lodged, nor + from a stranger’s board been fed: but at Rome, my last relative worthy of + the trust is dead;—and at the worst, obscure honesty is better than + gaudy crime. Thy spirit troubles me already. Back, my child; I must to my + closet, and watch and pray.” + </p> + <p> + Thus saying, the old woman, repelling the advance, and silencing the + muttered and confused words, of the boy—half affectionate as they + were, yet half tetchy and wayward—glided from the chamber. + </p> + <p> + The boy looked abstractedly at the closing door, and then said to himself—“The + dame is always talking riddles: I wonder if she know more of me than she + tells, or if she is any way akin to me. I hope not, for I don’t love her + much; nor, for that matter, anything else. I wish she would place me with + the Tribune’s lady, and then we’ll see who among the lads will call Angelo + Villani bastard.” + </p> + <p> + With that the boy fell to work again at his sword with redoubled vigour. + In fact, the cold manner of this female, his sole nurse, companion, + substitute for parent, had repelled his affections without subduing his + temper; and though not originally of evil disposition, Angelo Villani was + already insolent, cunning, and revengeful; but not, on the other hand, + without a quick susceptibility to kindness as to affront, a natural + acuteness of understanding, and a great indifference to fear. Brought up + in quiet affluence rather than luxury, and living much with his protector, + whom he knew but by the name of Ursula, his bearing was graceful, and his + air that of the well-born. And it was his carriage, perhaps, rather than + his countenance, which, though handsome, was more distinguished for + intelligence than beauty, which had attracted the notice of the Tribune’s + bride. His education was that of one reared for some scholastic + profession. He was not only taught to read and write, but had been even + instructed in the rudiments of Latin. He did not, however, incline to + these studies half so fondly as to the games of his companions, or the + shows or riots in the street, into all of which he managed to thrust + himself, and from which he had always the happy dexterity to return safe + and unscathed. + </p> + <p> + The next morning Ursula entered the young Angelo’s chamber. “Wear again + thy blue doublet today,” said she; “I would have thee look thy best. Thou + shalt go with me to the palace.” + </p> + <p> + “What, today?” cried the boy joyfully, half leaping from his bed. “Dear + dame Ursula, shall I really then belong to the train of the great + Tribune’s lady?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and leave the old woman to die alone! Your joy becomes you,—but + ingratitude is in your blood. Ingratitude! Oh, it has burned my heart into + ashes—and yours, boy, can no longer find a fuel in the dry crumbling + cinders.” + </p> + <p> + “Dear dame, you are always so biting. You know you said you wished to + retire into a convent, and I was too troublesome a charge for you. But you + delight in rebuking me, justly or unjustly.” + </p> + <p> + “My task is over,” said Ursula, with a deep-drawn sigh. + </p> + <p> + The boy answered not; and the old woman retired with a heavy step, and, it + may be, a heavier heart. When he joined her in their common apartment, he + observed what his joy had previously blinded him to—that Ursula did + not wear her usual plain and sober dress. The gold chain, rarely assumed + then by women not of noble birth—though, in the other sex, affected + also by public functionaries and wealthy merchants—glittered upon a + robe of the rich flowered stuffs of Venice, and the clasps that confined + the vest at the throat and waist were adorned with jewels of no common + price. + </p> + <p> + Angelo’s eye was struck by the change, but he felt a more manly pride in + remarking that the old lady became it well. Her air and mien were indeed + those of one to whom such garments were habitual; and they seemed that day + more than usually austere and stately. + </p> + <p> + She smoothed the boy’s ringlets, drew his short mantle more gracefully + over his shoulder, and then placed in his belt a poniard whose handle was + richly studded, and a purse well filled with florins. + </p> + <p> + “Learn to use both discreetly,” said she; “and, whether I live or die, you + will never require to wield the poniard to procure the gold.” + </p> + <p> + “This, then,” cried Angelo, enchanted, “is a real poniard to fight the + robbers with! Ah, with this I should not fear Fra Moreale, who wronged + thee so. I trust I may yet avenge thee, though thou didst rate me so just + now for ingratitude.” + </p> + <p> + “I am avenged. Nourish not such thoughts, my son, they are sinful; at + least I fear so. Draw to the board and eat; we will go betimes, as + petitioners should do.” + </p> + <p> + Angelo had soon finished his morning meal, and sallying with Ursula to the + porch, he saw, to his surprise, four of those servitors who then usually + attended persons of distinction, and who were to be hired in every city, + for the convenience of strangers or the holyday ostentation of the gayer + citizens. + </p> + <p> + “How grand we are today!” said he, clapping his hands with an eagerness + which Ursula failed not to reprove. + </p> + <p> + “It is not for vain show,” she added, “which true nobility can well + dispense with, but that we may the more readily gain admittance to the + palace. These princes of yesterday are not easy of audience to the over + humble.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! but you are wrong this time,” said the boy. “The Tribune gives + audience to all men, the poorest as the richest. Nay, there is not a + ragged boor, or a bare-footed friar, who does not win access to him sooner + than the proudest baron. That’s why the people love him so. And he devotes + one day of the week to receiving the widows and the orphans;—and you + know, dame, I am an orphan.” + </p> + <p> + Ursula, already occupied with her own thoughts, did not answer, and + scarcely heard, the boy; but leaning on his young arm, and preceded by the + footmen to clear the way, passed slowly towards the palace of the Capitol. + </p> + <p> + A wonderful thing would it have been to a more observant eye, to note the + change which two or three short months of the stern but salutary and wise + rule of the Tribune had effected in the streets of Rome. You no longer + beheld the gaunt and mail-clad forms of foreign mercenaries stalking + through the vistas, or grouped in lazy insolence before the embattled + porches of some gloomy palace. The shops, that in many quarters had been + closed for years, were again open, glittering with wares and bustling with + trade. The thoroughfares, formerly either silent as death, or crossed by + some affrighted and solitary passenger with quick steps, and eyes that + searched every corner,—or resounding with the roar of a pauper + rabble, or the open feuds of savage nobles, now exhibited the regular, and + wholesome, and mingled streams of civilized life, whether bound to + pleasure or to commerce. Carts and waggons laden with goods which had + passed in safety by the dismantled holds of the robbers of the Campagna, + rattled cheerfully over the pathways. “Never, perhaps,”—to use the + translation adapted from the Italian authorities, by a modern and by no + means a partial historian (Gibbon.)—“Never, perhaps, has the energy + and effect of a single mind been more remarkably felt than in the sudden + reformation of Rome by the Tribune Rienzi. A den of robbers was converted + to the discipline of a camp or convent. ‘In this time,’ says the + historian, (“Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. i. c. 9.) ‘did the woods begin + to rejoice that they were no longer infested with robbers; the oxen began + to plough; the pilgrims visited the sanctuaries; (Gibbon: the words in the + original are “li pellegrini cominciaro a fere la cerca per la santuaria.”) + the roads and inns were replenished with travellers: trade, plenty, and + good faith, were restored in the markets; and a purse of gold might be + exposed without danger in the midst of the highways.’” + </p> + <p> + Amidst all these evidences of comfort and security to the people—some + dark and discontented countenances might be seen mingled in the crowd, and + whenever one who wore the livery of the Colonna or the Orsini felt himself + jostled by the throng, a fierce hand moved involuntarily to the + sword-belt, and a half-suppressed oath was ended with an indignant sigh. + Here and there too,—contrasting the redecorated, refurnished, and + smiling shops—heaps of rubbish before the gate of some haughty + mansion testified the abasement of fortifications which the owner + impotently resented as a sacrilege. Through such streets and such throngs + did the party we accompany wend their way, till they found themselves + amidst crowds assembled before the entrance of the Capitol. The officers + there stationed kept, however, so discreet and dexterous an order, that + they were not long detained; and now in the broad place or court of that + memorable building, they saw the open doors of the great justice-hall, + guarded but by a single sentinel, and in which, for six hours daily, did + the Tribune hold his court, for “patient to hear, swift to redress, + inexorable to punish, his tribunal was always accessible to the poor and + stranger.” (Gibbon.) + </p> + <p> + Not, however, to that hall did the party bend its way, but to the entrance + which admitted to the private apartments of the palace. And here the pomp, + the gaud, the more than regal magnificence, of the residence of the + Tribune, strongly contrasted the patriarchal simplicity which marked his + justice court. + </p> + <p> + Even Ursula, not unaccustomed, of yore, to the luxurious state of Italian + and French principalities, seemed roused into surprise at the hall crowded + with retainers in costly liveries, the marble and gilded columns wreathed + with flowers, and the gorgeous banners wrought with the blended arms of + the Republican City and the Pontifical See, which blazed aloft and around. + </p> + <p> + Scarce knowing whom to address in such an assemblage, Ursula was relieved + from her perplexity by an officer attired in a suit of crimson and gold, + who, with a grave and formal decorum, which indeed reigned throughout the + whole retinue, demanded, respectfully, whom she sought? “The Signora + Nina!” replied Ursula, drawing up her stately person, with a natural, + though somewhat antiquated, dignity. There was something foreign in the + accent, which influenced the officer’s answer. + </p> + <p> + “Today, madam, I fear that the Signora receives only the Roman ladies. + Tomorrow is that appointed for all foreign dames of distinction.” + </p> + <p> + Ursula, with a slight impatience of tone, replied—“My business is of + that nature which is welcome on any day, at palaces. I come, Signor, to + lay certain presents at the Signora’s feet, which I trust she will deign + to accept.” + </p> + <p> + “And say, Signor,” added the boy, abruptly, “that Angelo Villani, whom the + Lady Nina honoured yesterday with her notice, is no stranger but a Roman; + and comes, as she bade him, to proffer to the Signora his homage and + devotion.” + </p> + <p> + The grave officer could not refrain a smile at the pert, yet not + ungraceful, boldness of the boy. + </p> + <p> + “I remember me, Master Angelo Villani,” he replied, “that the Lady Nina + spoke to you by the great staircase. Madam, I will do your errand. Please + to follow me to an apartment more fitting your sex and seeming.” + </p> + <p> + With that the officer led the way across the hall to a broad staircase of + white marble, along the centre of which were laid those rich Eastern + carpets which at that day, when rushes strewed the chambers of an English + monarch, were already common to the greater luxury of Italian palaces. + Opening a door at the first flight, he ushered Ursula and her young charge + into a lofty ante-chamber, hung with arras of wrought velvets; while over + the opposite door, through which the officer now vanished, were blazoned + the armorial bearings which the Tribune so constantly introduced in all + his pomp, not more from the love of show, than from his politic desire to + mingle with the keys of the Pontiff the heraldic insignia of the Republic. + </p> + <p> + “Philip of Valois is not housed like this man!” muttered Ursula. “If this + last, I shall have done better for my charge than I recked of.” + </p> + <p> + The officer soon returned, and led them across an apartment of vast + extent, which was indeed the great reception chamber of the palace. + Four-and-twenty columns of the Oriental alabaster which had attested the + spoils of the later emperors, and had been disinterred from forgotten + ruins, to grace the palace of the Reviver of the old Republic, supported + the light roof, which, half Gothic, half classic, in its architecture, was + inlaid with gilded and purple mosaics. The tesselated floor was covered in + the centre with cloth of gold, the walls were clothed, at intervals, with + the same gorgeous hangings, relieved by panels freshly painted in the most + glowing colours, with mystic and symbolical designs. At the upper end of + this royal chamber, two steps ascended to the place of the Tribune’s + throne, above which was the canopy wrought with the eternal armorial + bearings of the Pontiff and the City. + </p> + <p> + Traversing this apartment, the officer opened the door at its extremity, + which admitted to a small chamber, crowded with pages in rich dresses of + silver and blue velvet. There were few amongst them elder than Angelo; + and, from their general beauty, they seemed the very flower and blossom of + the city. + </p> + <p> + Short time had Angelo to gaze on his comrades that were to be:—another + minute, and he and his protectress were in the presence of the Tribune’s + bride. + </p> + <p> + The chamber was not large—but it was large enough to prove that the + beautiful daughter of Raselli had realised her visions of vanity and + splendour. + </p> + <p> + It was an apartment that mocked description—it seemed a cabinet for + the gems of the world. The daylight, shaded by high and deep-set casements + of stained glass, streamed in a purple and mellow hue over all that the + art of that day boasted most precious, or regal luxury held most dear. The + candelabras of the silver workmanship of Florence; the carpets and stuffs + of the East; the draperies of Venice and Genoa; paintings like the + illuminated missals, wrought in gold, and those lost colours of blue and + crimson; antique marbles, which spoke of the bright days of Athens; tables + of disinterred mosaics, their freshness preserved as by magic; censers of + gold that steamed with the odours of Araby, yet so subdued as not to + deaden the healthier scent of flowers, which blushed in every corner from + their marble and alabaster vases; a small and spirit-like fountain, which + seemed to gush from among wreaths of roses, diffusing in its diamond and + fairy spray, a scarce felt coolness to the air;—all these, and such + as these, which it were vain work to detail, congregated in the richest + luxuriance, harmonised with the most exquisite taste, uniting the ancient + arts with the modern, amazed and intoxicated the sense of the beholder. It + was not so much the cost, nor the luxury, that made the character of the + chamber; it was a certain gorgeous and almost sublime phantasy,—so + that it seemed rather the fabled retreat of an enchantress, at whose word + genii ransacked the earth, and fairies arranged the produce, than the + grosser splendour of an earthly queen. Behind the piled cushions upon + which Nina half reclined, stood four girls, beautiful as nymphs, with fans + of the rarest feathers, and at her feet lay one older than the rest, whose + lute, though now silent, attested her legitimate occupation. + </p> + <p> + But, had the room in itself seemed somewhat too fantastic and overcharged + in its prodigal ornaments, the form and face of Nina would at once have + rendered all appropriate; so completely did she seem the natural Spirit of + the Place; so wonderfully did her beauty, elated as it now was with + contented love, gratified vanity, exultant hope, body forth the brightest + vision that ever floated before the eyes of Tasso, when he wrought into + one immortal shape the glory of the Enchantress with the allurements of + the Woman. + </p> + <p> + Nina half rose as she saw Ursula, whose sedate and mournful features + involuntarily testified her surprise and admiration at a loveliness so + rare and striking, but who, undazzled by the splendour around, soon + recovered her wonted self-composure, and seated herself on the cushion to + which Nina pointed, while the young visitor remained standing, and + spell-bound by childish wonder, in the centre of the apartment. Nina + recognised him with a smile. + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my pretty boy, whose quick eye and bold air caught my fancy + yesterday! Have you come to accept my offer? Is it you, madam, who claim + this fair child?” + </p> + <p> + “Lady,” replied Ursula, “my business here is brief: by a train of events, + needless to weary you with narrating, this boy from his infancy fell to my + charge—a weighty and anxious trust to one whose thoughts are beyond + the barrier of life. I have reared him as became a youth of gentle blood; + for on both sides, lady, he is noble, though an orphan, motherless and + sireless.” + </p> + <p> + “Poor child!” said Nina, compassionately. + </p> + <p> + “Growing now,” continued Ursula, “oppressed by years, and desirous only to + make my peace with Heaven, I journeyed hither some months since, in the + design to place the boy with a relation of mine; and, that trust + fulfilled, to take the vows in the City of the Apostle. Alas! I found my + kinsman dead, and a baron of wild and dissolute character was his heir. + Here remaining, perplexed and anxious, it seemed to me the voice of + Providence when, yester-evening, the child told me you had been pleased to + honour him with your notice. Like the rest of Rome, he has already learned + enthusiasm for the Tribune—devotion to the Tribune’s bride. Will + you, in truth, admit him of your household? He will not dishonour your + protection by his blood, nor, I trust, by his bearing.” + </p> + <p> + “I would take his face for his guarantee, madam, even without so + distinguished a recommendation as your own. Is he Roman? His name then + must be known to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, lady,” replied Ursula: “He bears the name of Angelo Villani—not + that of his sire or mother. The honour of a noble house for ever condemns + his parentage to rest unknown. He is the offspring of a love unsanctioned + by the church.” + </p> + <p> + “He is the more to be loved, then, and to be pitied—victim of sin + not his own!” answered Nina, with moistened eyes, as she saw the deep and + burning blush that covered the boy’s cheeks. “With the Tribune’s reign + commences a new era of nobility, when rank and knighthood shall be won by + a man’s own merit—not that of his ancestors. Fear not, madam: in my + house he shall know no slight.” + </p> + <p> + Ursula was moved from her pride by the kindness of Nina: she approached + with involuntary reverence, and kissed the Signora’s hand— + </p> + <p> + “May our Lady reward your noble heart!” said she: “and now my mission is + ended, and my earthly goal is won. Add only, lady, to your inestimable + favours one more. These jewels”—and Ursula drew from her robe a + casket, touched the spring, and the lid flying back, discovered jewels of + great size and the most brilliant water,—“these jewels,” she + continued, laying the casket at Nina’s feet, “once belonging to the + princely house of Thoulouse, are valueless to me and mine. Suffer me to + think that they are transferred to one whose queenly brow will give them a + lustre it cannot borrow.” + </p> + <p> + “How!” said Nina, colouring very deeply; “think you, madam, my kindness + can be bought? What woman’s kindness ever was? Nay, nay—take back + the gifts, or I shall pray you to take back your boy.” + </p> + <p> + Ursula was astonished and confounded: to her experience such abstinence + was a novelty, and she scarcely knew how to meet it. Nina perceived her + embarrassment with a haughty and triumphant smile, and then, regaining her + former courtesy of demeanour, said, with a grave sweetness— + </p> + <p> + “The Tribune’s hands are clean,—the Tribune’s wife must not be + suspected. Rather, madam, should I press upon you some token of exchange + for the fair charge you have committed to me. Your jewels hereafter may + profit the boy in his career: reserve them for one who needs them.” + </p> + <p> + “No, lady,” said Ursula, rising and lifting her eyes to heaven;—“they + shall buy masses for his mother’s soul; for him I shall reserve a + competence when his years require it. Lady, accept the thanks of a + wretched and desolate heart. Fare you well!” + </p> + <p> + She turned to quit the room, but with so faltering and weak a step, that + Nina, touched and affected, sprung up, and with her own hand guided the + old woman across the room, whispering comfort and soothing to her; while, + as they reached the door, the boy rushed forward, and, clasping Ursula’s + robe, sobbed out—“Dear dame, not one farewell for your little + Angelo! Forgive him all he has cost you! Now, for the first time, I feel + how wayward and thankless I have been.” + </p> + <p> + The old woman caught him in her arms, and kissed him passionately; when + the boy, as if a thought suddenly struck him, drew forth the purse she had + given him and said, in a choked and scarce articulate voice,—“And + let this, dearest dame, go in masses for my poor father’s soul; for he is + dead, too, you know!” + </p> + <p> + These words seemed to freeze at once all the tenderer emotions of Ursula. + She put back the boy with the same chilling and stern severity of aspect + and manner which had so often before repressed him: and recovering her + self-possession, at once quitted the apartment without saying another + word. Nina, surprised, but still pitying her sorrow and respecting her + age, followed her steps across the pages’ ante-room and the + reception-chamber, even to the foot of the stairs,—a condescension + the haughtiest princess of Rome could not have won from her; and + returning, saddened and thoughtful, she took the boy’s hand, and + affectionately kissed his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “Poor boy!” she said, “it seems as if Providence had made me select thee + yesterday from the crowd, and thus conducted thee to thy proper refuge. + For to whom should come the friendless and the orphans of Rome, but to the + palace of Rome’s first Magistrate?” Turning then to her attendants, she + gave them instructions as to the personal comforts of her new charge, + which evinced that if power had ministered to her vanity, it had not + steeled her heart. Angelo Villani lived to repay her well! + </p> + <p> + She retained the boy in her presence, and conversing with him familiarly, + she was more and more pleased with his bold spirit and frank manner. Their + conversation was however interrupted, as the day advanced, by the arrival + of several ladies of the Roman nobility. And then it was that Nina’s + virtues receded into shade, and her faults appeared. She could not resist + the woman’s triumph over those arrogant signoras who now cringed in homage + where they had once slighted with disdain. She affected the manner of, she + demanded the respect due to, a queen. And by many of those dexterous arts + which the sex know so well, she contrived to render her very courtesy a + humiliation to her haughty guests. Her commanding beauty and her graceful + intellect saved her, indeed, from the vulgar insolence of the upstart; but + yet more keenly stung the pride, by forbidding to those she mortified the + retaliation of contempt. Hers were the covert taunt—the smiling + affront—the sarcasm in the mask of compliment—the careless + exaction of respect in trifles, which could not outwardly be resented, but + which could not inly be forgiven. + </p> + <p> + “Fair day to the Signora Colonna,” said she to the proud wife of the proud + Stephen; “we passed your palace yesterday. How fair it now seems, relieved + from those gloomy battlements which it must often have saddened you to + gaze upon. Signora, (turning to one of the Orsini), your lord has high + favour with the Tribune, who destines him to great command. His fortunes + are secured, and we rejoice at it; for no man more loyally serves the + state. Have you seen, fair Lady of Frangipani, the last verses of Petrarch + in honour of my lord?—they rest yonder. May we so far venture as to + request you to point out their beauties to the Signora di Savelli? We + rejoice, noble Lady of Malatesta, to observe that your eyesight is so well + restored. The last time we met, though we stood next to you in the revels + of the Lady Giulia, you seemed scarce to distinguish us from the pillar by + which we stood!” + </p> + <p> + “Must this insolence be endured!” whispered the Signora Frangipani to the + Signora Malatesta. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush; if ever it be our day again!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0025" id="link2HCH0025"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 4.II. The Blessing of A Councillor Whose Interests and Heart Are + </h2> + <p> + Our Own.—the Straws Thrown Upward,—Do They Portend A Storm. + </p> + <p> + It was later that day than usual, when Rienzi returned from his tribunal + to the apartments of the palace. As he traversed the reception hall, his + countenance was much flushed; his teeth were set firmly, like a man who + has taken a strong resolution from which he will not be moved; and his + brow was dark with that settled and fearful frown which the describers of + his personal appearance have not failed to notice as the characteristic of + an anger the more deadly because invariably just. Close as his heels + followed the Bishop of Orvietto and the aged Stephen Colonna. “I tell you, + my Lords,” said Rienzi, “that ye plead in vain. Rome knows no distinction + between ranks. The law is blind to the agent—lynx-eyed to the deed.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” said Raimond, hesitatingly, “bethink thee, Tribune; the nephew of + two cardinals, and himself once a senator.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi halted abruptly, and faced his companions. “My Lord Bishop,” said + he, “does not this make the crime more inexcusable? Look you, thus it + reads:—A vessel from Avignon to Naples, charged with the revenues of + Provence to Queen Joanna, on whose cause, mark you, we now hold solemn + council, is wrecked at the mouth of the Tiber; with that, Martino di Porto—a + noble, as you say—the holder of that fortress whence he derives his + title,—doubly bound by gentle blood and by immediate neighbourhood + to succour the oppressed—falls upon the vessel with his troops (what + hath the rebel with armed troops?)—and pillages the vessel like a + common robber. He is apprehended—brought to my tribunal—receives + fair trial—is condemned to die. Such is the law;—what more + would ye have?” + </p> + <p> + “Mercy,” said the Colonna. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi folded his arms, and laughed disdainfully. “I never heard my Lord + Colonna plead for mercy when a peasant had stolen the bread that was to + feed his famishing children.” + </p> + <p> + “Between a peasant and a prince, Tribune, I, for one, recognise a + distinction:—the bright blood of an Orsini is not to be shed like + that of a base plebeian—” + </p> + <p> + “Which, I remember me,” said Rienzi, in a low voice, “you deemed small + matter enough when my boy-brother fell beneath the wanton spear of your + proud son. Wake not that memory, I warn you; let it sleep.—For + shame, old Colonna—for shame; so near the grave, where the worm + levels all flesh, and preaching, with those gray hairs, the uncharitable + distinction between man and man. Is there not distinction enough at the + best? Does not one wear purple, and the other rags? Hath not one ease, and + the other toil? Doth not the one banquet while the other starves? Do I + nourish any mad scheme to level the ranks which society renders a + necessary evil? No. I war no more with Dives than with Lazarus. But before + Man’s judgment-seat, as before God’s, Lazarus and Dives are made equal. No + more.” + </p> + <p> + Colonna drew his robe round him with great haughtiness, and bit his lip in + silence. Raimond interposed. + </p> + <p> + “All this is true, Tribune. But,” and he drew Rienzi aside, “you know we + must be politic as well as just. Nephew to two Cardinals, what enmity will + not this provoke at Avignon?” + </p> + <p> + “Vex not yourself, holy Raimond, I will answer it to the Pontiff.” While + they spoke the bell tolled heavily and loudly. + </p> + <p> + Colonna started. + </p> + <p> + “Great Tribune,” said he, with a slight sneer, “deign to pause ere it be + too late. I know not that I ever before bent to you a suppliant; and I ask + you now to spare mine own foe. Stephen Colonna prays Cola di Rienzi to + spare the life of an Orsini.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand thy taunt, old Lord,” said Rienzi, calmly, “but I resent it + not. You are foe to the Orsini, yet you plead for him—it sounds + generous; but hark you,—you are more a friend to your order than a + foe to your rival. You cannot bear that one, great enough to have + contended with you, should perish like a thief. I give full praise to such + noble forgiveness; but I am no noble, and I do not sympathize with it. One + word more;—if this were the sole act of fraud and violence that this + bandit baron had committed, your prayers should plead for him; but is not + his life notorious? Has he not been from boyhood the terror and disgrace + of Rome? How many matrons violated, merchants pillaged, peaceful men + stilettoed in the daylight, rise in dark witness against the prisoner? And + for such a man do I live to hear an aged prince and a pope’s vicar plead + for mercy?—Fie, fie! But I will be even with ye. The next poor man + whom the law sentences to death, for your sake will I pardon.” + </p> + <p> + Raimond again drew aside the Tribune, while Colonna struggled to suppress + his rage. + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” said the Bishop, “the nobles will feel this as an insult to + their whole order; the very pleading of Orsini’s worst foe must convince + thee of this. Martino’s blood will seal their reconciliation with each + other, and they will be as one man against thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Be it so: with God and the People on my side, I will dare, though a + Roman, to be just. The bell ceases—you are already too late.” So + saying, Rienzi threw open the casement; and by the staircase of the Lion + rose a gibbet from which swung with a creaking sound, arrayed in his + patrician robes, the yet palpitating corpse of Martino di Porto. + </p> + <p> + “Behold!” said the Tribune, sternly, “thus die all robbers. For traitors, + the same law has the axe and the scaffold!” + </p> + <p> + Raimond drew back and turned pale. Not so the veteran noble. Tears of + wounded pride started from his eyes; he approached, leaning on his staff, + to Rienzi, touched him on his shoulder, and said,— + </p> + <p> + “Tribune, a judge has lived to envy his victim!” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi turned with an equal pride to the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “We forgive idle words in the aged. My Lord, have you done with us?—we + would be alone.” + </p> + <p> + “Give me thy arm, Raimond,” said Stephen. “Tribune—farewell. Forget + that the Colonna sued thee,—an easy task, methinks; for, wise as you + are, you forget what every one else can remember.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, my Lord, what?” + </p> + <p> + “Birth, Tribune, birth—that’s all!” + </p> + <p> + “The Signor Colonna has taken up my old calling, and turned a wit,” + returned Rienzi, with an indifferent and easy tone. + </p> + <p> + Then following Raimond and Stephen with his eyes, till the door closed + upon them, he muttered, “Insolent! were it not for Adrian, thy grey beard + should not bear thee harmless. Birth! what Colonna would not boast + himself, if he could, the grandson of an emperor?—Old man, there is + danger in thee which must be watched.” With that he turned musingly + towards the casement, and again that griesly spectacle of death met his + eye. The people below, assembled in large concourse, rejoiced at the + execution of one whose whole life had been infamy and rapine—but who + had seemed beyond justice—with all the fierce clamour that marks the + exultation of the rabble over a crushed foe. And where Rienzi stood, he + heard heir shouts of “Long live the Tribune, the just judge, Rome’s + liberator!” But at that time other thoughts deafened his senses to the + popular enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “My poor brother!” he said, with tears in his eyes, “it was owing to this + man’s crimes—and to a crime almost similar to that for which he has + now suffered—that thou wert entrained to the slaughter; and they who + had no pity for the lamb, clamour for compassion to the wolf! Ah, wert + thou living now, how these proud heads would bend to thee; though dead, + thou wert not worthy of a thought. God rest thy gentle soul, and keep my + ambition pure as it was when we walked at twilight, side by side + together!” + </p> + <p> + The Tribune shut the casement, and turning away, sought the chamber of + Nina. On hearing his step without, she had already risen from the couch, + her eyes sparkling, her bosom heaving; and as he entered, she threw + herself on his neck, and murmured as she nestled to his breast,—“Ah, + the hours since we parted!” + </p> + <p> + It was a singular thing to see that proud lady, proud of her beauty, her + station, her new honours;—whose gorgeous vanity was already the talk + of Rome, and the reproach to Rienzi,—how suddenly and miraculously + she seemed changed in his presence! Blushing and timid, all pride in + herself seemed merged in her proud love for him. No woman ever loved to + the full extent of the passion, who did not venerate where she loved, and + who did not feel humbled (delighted in that humility) by her exaggerated + and overweening estimate of the superiority of the object of her worship. + </p> + <p> + And it might be the consciousness of this distinction between himself and + all other created things, which continued to increase the love of the + Tribune to his bride, to blind him to her failings towards others, and to + indulge her in a magnificence of parade, which, though to a certain point + politic to assume, was carried to an extent which if it did not conspire + to produce his downfall, has served the Romans with an excuse for their + own cowardice and desertion, and historians with a plausible explanation + of causes they had not the industry to fathom. Rienzi returned his wife’s + caresses with an equal affection, and bending down to her beautiful face, + the sight was sufficient to chase from his brow the emotions, whether + severe or sad, which had lately darkened its broad expanse. + </p> + <p> + “Thou has not been abroad this morning, Nina!” + </p> + <p> + “No, the heat was oppressive. But nevertheless, Cola, I have not lacked + company—half the matronage of Rome has crowded the palace.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, I warrant it.—But yon boy, is he not a new face?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Cola, speak to him kindly, I entreat: of his story anon. Angelo, + approach. You see your new master, the Tribune of Rome.” + </p> + <p> + Angelo approached with a timidity not his wont, for an air of majesty was + at all times natural to Rienzi, and since his power it had naturally taken + a graver and austerer aspect, which impressed those who approached him, + even the ambassadors of princes, with a certain involuntary awe. The + Tribune smiled at the effect he saw he had produced, and being by temper + fond of children, and affable to all but the great, he hastened to dispel + it. He took the child affectionately in his arms, kissed him, and bade him + welcome. + </p> + <p> + “May we have a son as fair!” he whispered to Nina, who blushed, and turned + away. + </p> + <p> + “Thy name, my little friend?” + </p> + <p> + “Angelo Villani.” + </p> + <p> + “A Tuscan name. There is a man of letters at Florence, doubtless writing + our annals from hearsay at this moment, called Villani. Perhaps akin to + thee?” + </p> + <p> + “I have no kin,” said the boy, bluntly; “and therefore I shall the better + love the Signora and honour you, if you will let me. I am Roman—all + the Roman boys honour Rienzi.” + </p> + <p> + “Do they, my brave lad?” said the Tribune, colouring with pleasure; “that + is a good omen of my continued prosperity.” He put down the boy, and threw + himself on the cushions, while Nina placed herself on a kind of low stool + beside him. + </p> + <p> + “Let us be alone,” said he; and Nina motioned to the attendant maidens to + withdraw. + </p> + <p> + “Take my new page with you,” said she; “he is yet, perhaps, too fresh from + home to enjoy the company of his giddy brethren.” + </p> + <p> + When they were alone, Nina proceeded to narrate to Rienzi the adventure of + the morning; but though he seemed outwardly to listen, his gaze was on + vacancy, and he was evidently abstracted and self-absorbed. At length, as + she concluded, he said, “Well, Nina, you have acted as ever, kindly and + nobly. Let us to other themes. I am in danger.” + </p> + <p> + “Danger!” echoed Nina, turning pale. + </p> + <p> + “Why, the word must not appal you—you have a spirit like mine, that + scorns fear; and, for that reason, Nina, in all Rome you are my only + confidant. It was not only to glad me with thy beauty, but to cheer me + with thy counsel, to support me with thy valour, that Heaven gave me thee + as a helpmate.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, our Lady bless thee for those words!” said Nina, kissing the hand + that hung over her shoulder; “and if I started at the word danger, it was + but the woman’s thought of thee,—an unworthy thought, my Cola, for + glory and danger go together. And I am as ready to share the last as the + first. If the hour of trial ever come, none of thy friends shall be so + faithful to thy side as this weak form but undaunted heart.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it, my own Nina; I know it,” said Rienzi, rising, and pacing the + chamber with large and rapid strides. “Now listen to me. Thou knowest that + to govern in safety, it is my policy as my pride to govern justly. To + govern justly is an awful thing, when mighty barons are the culprits. + Nina, for an open and audacious robbery, our court has sentenced Martin of + the Orsini, the Lord of Porto, to death. His corpse swings now on the + Staircase of the Lion.” + </p> + <p> + “A dreadful doom!” said Nina, shuddering. + </p> + <p> + “True; but by his death thousands of poor and honest men may live in + peace. It is not that which troubles me: the Barons resent the deed, as an + insult to them that law should touch a noble. They will rise—they + will rebel. I foresee the storm—not the spell to allay it.” + </p> + <p> + Nina paused a moment,—“They have taken,” she then said, “a solemn + oath on the Eucharist not to bear arms against thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Perjury is a light addition to theft and murder,” answered Rienzi, with + his sarcastic smile. + </p> + <p> + “But the people are faithful.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but in a civil war (which the saints forefend!) those combatants are + the stanchest who have no home but their armour, no calling but the sword. + The trader will not leave his trade at the toll of a bell every day; but + the Barons’ soldiery are ready at all hours.” + </p> + <p> + “To be strong,” said Nina,—who, summoned to the councils of her + lord, shewed an intellect not unworthy of the honour,—“to be strong + in dangerous times, authority must seem strong. By shewing no fear, you + may prevent the cause of fear.” + </p> + <p> + “My own thought!” returned Rienzi, quickly. “You know that half my power + with these Barons is drawn from the homage rendered to me by foreign + states. When from every city in Italy the ambassadors of crowned princes + seek the alliance of the Tribune, they must veil their resentment at the + rise of the Plebeian. On the other hand, to be strong abroad I must seem + strong at home: the vast design I have planned, and, as by a miracle, + begun to execute, will fail at once if it seem abroad to be intrusted to + an unsteady and fluctuating power. That design (continued Rienzi, pausing, + and placing his hand on a marble bust of the young Augustus) is greater + than his, whose profound yet icy soul united Italy in subjection,—for + it would unite Italy in freedom;—yes! could we but form one great + federative league of all the States of Italy, each governed by its own + laws, but united for mutual and common protection against the Attilas of + the North, with Rome for their Metropolis and their Mother, this age and + this brain would have wrought an enterprise which men should quote till + the sound of the last trump!” + </p> + <p> + “I know thy divine scheme,” said Nina, catching his enthusiasm; “and what + if there be danger in attaining it? Have we not mastered the greatest + danger in the first step?” + </p> + <p> + “Right, Nina, right! Heaven (and the Tribune, who ever recognised, in his + own fortunes, the agency of the hand above, crossed himself reverently) + will preserve him to whom it hath vouchsafed such lofty visions of the + future redemption of the Land of the true Church, and the liberty and + advancement of its children! This I trust: already many of the cities of + Tuscany have entered into treaties for the formation of this league; nor + from a single tyrant, save John di Vico, have I received aught but fair + words and flattering promises. The time seems ripe for the grand stroke of + all.” + </p> + <p> + “And what is that?” demanded Nina, wonderingly. + </p> + <p> + “Defiance to all foreign interference. By what right does a synod of + stranger princes give Rome a king in some Teuton Emperor? Rome’s people + alone should choose Rome’s governor;—and shall we cross the Alps to + render the title of our master to the descendants of the Goth?” + </p> + <p> + Nina was silent: the custom of choosing the sovereign by a diet beyond the + Rhine, reserving only the ceremony of his subsequent coronation for the + mock assent of the Romans, however degrading to that people, and however + hostile to all nations of substantial independence, was so unquestioned at + that time, that Rienzi’s daring suggestion left her amazed and breathless, + prepared as she was for any scheme, however extravagantly bold. + </p> + <p> + “How!” said she, after a long pause; “do I understand aright? Can you mean + defiance to the Emperor?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, listen: at this moment there are two pretenders to the throne of + Rome—to the imperial crown of Italy—a Bohemian and a Bavarian. + To their election our assent—Rome’s assent—is not requisite—not + asked. Can we be called free—can we boast ourselves republican—when + a stranger and a barbarian is thus thrust upon our necks? No, we will be + free in reality as in name. Besides, (continued the Tribune, in a calmer + tone,) this seems to me politic as well as daring. The people incessantly + demand wonders from me: how can I more nobly dazzle, more virtuously win + them, than by asserting their inalienable right to choose their own + rulers? The daring will awe the Barons, and foreigners themselves; it will + give a startling example to all Italy; it will be the first brand of an + universal blaze. It shall be done, and with a pomp that befits the deed!” + </p> + <p> + “Cola,” said Nina, hesitatingly, “your eagle spirit often ascends where + mine flags to follow; yet be not over bold.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, did you not, a moment since, preach a different doctrine? To be + strong, was I not to seem strong?” + </p> + <p> + “May fate preserve you!” said Nina, with a foreboding sigh. + </p> + <p> + “Fate!” cried Rienzi; “there is no fate! Between the thought and the + success, God is the only agent; and (he added with a voice of deep + solemnity) I shall not be deserted. Visions by night, even while thine + arms are around me; omens and impulses, stirring and divine, by day, even + in the midst of the living crowd—encourage my path, and point my + goal. Now, even now, a voice seems to whisper in my ear—‘Pause not; + tremble not; waver not;—for the eye of the All-Seeing is upon thee, + and the hand of the All-Powerful shall protect!” + </p> + <p> + As Rienzi thus spoke, his face grew pale, his hair seemed to bristle, his + tall and proud form trembled visibly, and presently he sunk down on a + seat, and covered his face with his hands. + </p> + <p> + An awe crept over Nina, though not unaccustomed to such strange and + preternatural emotions, which appeared yet the more singular in one who in + common life was so calm, stately, and self-possessed. But with every + increase of prosperity and power, those emotions seemed to increase in + their fervour, as if in such increase the devout and overwrought + superstition of the Tribune recognised additional proof of a mysterious + guardianship mightier than the valour or art of man. + </p> + <p> + She approached fearfully, and threw her arms around him, but without + speaking. + </p> + <p> + Ere yet the Tribune had well recovered himself, a slight tap at the door + was heard, and the sound seemed at once to recall his self-possession. + </p> + <p> + “Enter,” he said, lifting his face, to which the wonted colour slowly + returned. + </p> + <p> + An officer, half-opening the door, announced that the person he had sent + for waited his leisure. + </p> + <p> + “I come!—Core of my heart,” (he whispered to Nina,) “we will sup + alone tonight, and will converse more on these matters:” so saying, with + somewhat less than his usual loftiness of mien, he left the room, and + sought his cabinet, which lay at the other side of the reception chamber. + Here he found Cecco del Vecchio. + </p> + <p> + “How, my bold fellow,” said the Tribune, assuming with wonderful ease that + air of friendly equality which he always adopted with those of the lower + class, and which made a striking contrast with the majesty, no less + natural, which marked his manner to the great. “How now, my Cecco! Thou + bearest thyself bravely, I see, during these sickly heats; we labourers—for + both of us labour, Cecco—are too busy to fall ill as the idle do, in + the summer, or the autumn, of Roman skies. I sent for thee, Cecco, because + I would know how thy fellow-craftsmen are like to take the Orsini’s + execution.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! Tribune,” replied the artificer, who, now familiarized with Rienzi, + had lost much of his earlier awe of him, and who regarded the Tribune’s + power as partly his own creation; “they are already out of their honest + wits, at your courage in punishing the great men as you would the small.” + </p> + <p> + “So;—I am repaid! But hark you, Cecco, it will bring, perhaps, hot + work upon us. Every Baron will dread lest it be his turn next, and dread + will make them bold, like rats in despair. We may have to fight for the + Good Estate.” + </p> + <p> + “With all my heart, Tribune,” answered Cecco, gruffly. “I, for one, am no + craven.” + </p> + <p> + “Then keep the same spirit in all your meetings with the artificers. I + fight for the people. The people at a pinch must fight with me.” + </p> + <p> + “They will,” replied Cecco; “they will!” + </p> + <p> + “Cecco, this city is under the spiritual dominion of the Pontiff—so + be it—it is an honour, not a burthen. But the temporal dominion, my + friend, should be with Romans only. Is it not a disgrace to Republican + Rome, that while we now speak, certain barbarians, whom we never heard of, + should be deciding beyond the Alps on the merits of two sovereigns, whom + we never saw? Is not this a thing to be resisted? An Italian city,—what + hath it to do with a Bohemian Emperor?” + </p> + <p> + “Little eno’, St. Paul knows!” said Cecco. + </p> + <p> + “Should it not be a claim questioned?” + </p> + <p> + “I think so!” replied the smith. + </p> + <p> + “And if found an outrage on our ancient laws, should it not be a claim + resisted?” + </p> + <p> + “Not a doubt of it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, go to! The archives assure me that never was Emperor lawfully + crowned but by the free votes of the people. We never chose Bohemian or + Bavarian.” + </p> + <p> + “But, on the contrary, whenever these Northmen come hither to be crowned, + we try to drive them away with stones and curses,—for we are a + people, Tribune, that love our liberties.” + </p> + <p> + “Go back to your friends—see—address them, say that your + Tribune will demand of these pretenders to Rome the right to her throne. + Let them not be mazed or startled, but support me when the occasion + comes.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad of this,” quoth the huge smith; “for our friends have grown a + little unruly of late, and say—” + </p> + <p> + “What do they say?” + </p> + <p> + “That it is true you have expelled the banditti, and curb the Barons, and + administer justice fairly;—” + </p> + <p> + “Is not that miracle enough for the space of some two or three short + months?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, they say it would have been more than enough in a noble; but you, + being raised from the people, and having such gifts and so forth, might do + yet more. It is now three weeks since they have had any new thing to talk + about; but Orsini’s execution today will cheer them a bit.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Cecco, well,” said the Tribune, rising, “they shall have more anon + to feed their mouths with. So you think they love me not quite so well as + they did some three weeks back?” + </p> + <p> + “I say not so,” answered Cecco. “But we Romans are an impatient people.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, yes!” + </p> + <p> + “However, they will no doubt stick close enough to you; provided, Tribune, + you don’t put any new tax upon them.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! But if, in order to be free, it be necessary to fight—if to + fight, it be necessary to have soldiers, why then the soldiers must be + paid:—won’t the people contribute something to their own liberties;—to + just laws, and safe lives?” + </p> + <p> + “I don’t know,” returned the smith, scratching his head as if a little + puzzled; “but I know that poor men won’t be overtaxed. They say they are + better off with you than with the Barons before, and therefore they love + you. But men in business, Tribune, poor men with families, must look to + their bellies. Only one man in ten goes to law—only one man in + twenty is butchered by a Baron’s brigand; but every man eats, and drinks, + and feels a tax.” + </p> + <p> + “This cannot be your reasoning, Cecco!” said Rienzi, gravely. + </p> + <p> + “Why, Tribune, I am an honest man, but I have a large family to rear.” + </p> + <p> + “Enough; enough!” said the Tribune quickly; and then he added abstractedly + as to himself, but aloud,—“Methinks we have been too lavish; these + shows and spectacles should cease.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Cecco; “what, Tribune!—would you deny the poor fellows + a holiday. They work hard enough, and their only pleasure is seeing your + fine shows and processions; and then they go home and say,—‘See, our + man beats all the Barons! what state he keeps!’” + </p> + <p> + “Ah! they blame not my splendour, then!” + </p> + <p> + “Blame it; no! Without it they would be ashamed of you, and think the + Buono Stato but a shabby concern.” + </p> + <p> + “You speak bluntly, Cecco, but perhaps wisely. The saints keep you! Fail + not to remember what I told you!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no. It is a shame to have an Emperor thrust upon us;—so it is. + Good evening, Tribune.” + </p> + <p> + Left alone, the Tribune remained for some time plunged in gloomy and + foreboding thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “I am in the midst of a magician’s spell,” said he; “if I desist, the + fiends tear me to pieces. What I have begun, that must I conclude. But + this rude man shews me too well with what tools I work. For me failure is + nothing, I have already climbed to a greatness which might render giddy + many a born prince’s brain. But with my fall—Rome, Italy, Peace, + Justice, Civilization—all fall back into the abyss of ages!” + </p> + <p> + He rose; and after once or twice pacing his apartment, in which from many + a column gleamed upon him the marble effigies of the great of old, he + opened the casement to inhale the air of the now declining day. + </p> + <p> + The Place of the Capitol was deserted save by the tread of the single + sentinel. But still, dark and fearful, hung from the tall gibbet the clay + of the robber noble; and the colossal shape of the Egyptian lion rose hard + by, sharp and dark in the breathless atmosphere. + </p> + <p> + “Dread statue!” thought Rienzi, “how many unwhispered and solemn rites + hast thou witnessed by thy native Nile, ere the Roman’s hand transferred + thee hither—the antique witness of Roman crimes! Strange! but when I + look upon thee I feel as if thou hadst some mystic influence over my own + fortunes. Beside thee was I hailed the republican Lord of Rome; beside + thee are my palace, my tribunal, the place of my justice, my triumphs, and + my pomp:—to thee my eyes turn from my bed of state: and if fated to + die in power and peace, thou mayst be the last object my eyes will mark! + Or if myself a victim—.” He paused—shrank from the thought + presented to him—turned to a recess of the chamber—drew aside + a curtain, that veiled a crucifix and a small table, on which lay a Bible + and the monastic emblems of the skull and crossbones—emblems, + indeed, grave and irresistible, of the nothingness of power, and the + uncertainty of life. Before these sacred monitors, whether to humble or to + elevate, knelt that proud and aspiring man; and when he rose, it was with + a lighter step and more cheerful mien than he had worn that day. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0026" id="link2HCH0026"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 4.III. The Actor Unmasked. + </h2> + <p> + “In intoxication,” says the proverb, “men betray their real characters.” + There is a no less honest and truth-revealing intoxication in prosperity, + than in wine. The varnish of power brings forth at once the defects and + the beauties of the human portrait. + </p> + <p> + The unprecedented and almost miraculous rise of Rienzi from the rank of + the Pontiff’s official to the Lord of Rome, would have been accompanied + with a yet greater miracle, if it had not somewhat dazzled and seduced the + object it elevated. When, as in well-ordered states and tranquil times, + men rise slowly, step by step, they accustom themselves to their growing + fortunes. But the leap of an hour from a citizen to a prince—from + the victim of oppression to the dispenser of justice—is a transition + so sudden as to render dizzy the most sober brain. And, perhaps, in + proportion to the imagination, the enthusiasm, the genius of the man, will + the suddenness be dangerous—excite too extravagant a hope—and + lead to too chimerical an ambition. The qualities that made him rise, + hurry him to his fall; and victory at the Marengo of his fortunes, urges + him to destruction at its Moscow. + </p> + <p> + In his greatness Rienzi did not so much acquire new qualities, as develop + in brighter light and deeper shadow those which he had always exhibited. + On the one hand he was just—resolute—the friend of the + oppressed—the terror of the oppressor. His wonderful intellect + illumined everything it touched. By rooting out abuse, and by searching + examination and wise arrangement, he had trebled the revenues of the city + without imposing a single new tax. Faithful to his idol of liberty, he had + not been betrayed by the wish of the people into despotic authority; but + had, as we have seen, formally revived, and established with new powers, + the Parliamentary Council of the city. However extensive his own + authority, he referred its exercise to the people; in their name he alone + declared himself to govern, and he never executed any signal action + without submitting to them its reasons or its justification. No less + faithful to his desire to restore prosperity as well as freedom to Rome, + he had seized the first dazzling epoch of his power to propose that great + federative league with the Italian States which would, as he rightly said, + have raised Rome to the indisputable head of European nations. Under his + rule trade was secure, literature was welcome, art began to rise. + </p> + <p> + On the other hand, the prosperity which made more apparent his justice, + his integrity, his patriotism, his virtues, and his genius, brought out no + less glaringly his arrogant consciousness of superiority, his love of + display, and the wild and daring insolence of his ambition. Though too + just to avenge himself by retaliating on the patricians their own + violence, though, in his troubled and stormy tribuneship, not one + unmerited or illegal execution of baron or citizen could be alleged + against him, even by his enemies; yet sharing, less excusably, the + weakness of Nina, he could not deny his proud heart the pleasure of + humiliating those who had ridiculed him as a buffoon, despised him as a + plebeian, and who, even now slaves to his face, were cynics behind his + back. “They stood before him while he sate,” says his biographer; “all + these Barons, bareheaded; their hands crossed on their breasts; their + looks downcast;—oh, how frightened they were!”—a picture more + disgraceful to the servile cowardice of the nobles than the haughty + sternness of the Tribune. It might be that he deemed it policy to break + the spirit of his foes, and to awe those whom it was a vain hope to + conciliate. + </p> + <p> + For his pomp there was a greater excuse: it was the custom of the time; it + was the insignia and witness of power; and when the modern historian + taunts him with not imitating the simplicity of an ancient tribune, the + sneer betrays an ignorance of the spirit of the age, and the vain people + whom the chief magistrate was to govern. No doubt his gorgeous festivals, + his solemn processions, set off and ennobled—if parade can so be + ennobled—by a refined and magnificent richness of imagination, + associated always with popular emblems, and designed to convey the idea of + rejoicing for Liberty Restored, and to assert the state and majesty of + Rome Revived—no doubt these spectacles, however otherwise judged in + a more enlightened age and by closet sages, served greatly to augment the + importance of the Tribune abroad, and to dazzle the pride of a fickle and + ostentatious populace. And taste grew refined, luxury called labour into + requisition, and foreigners from all states were attracted by the + splendour of a court over which presided, under republican names, two + sovereigns, (Rienzi, speaking in one of his letters of his great + enterprise, refers it to the ardour of youth. The exact date of his birth + is unknown; but he was certainly a young man at the time now referred to. + His portrait in the Museo Barberino, from which his description has been + already taken in the first book of this work, represents him as beardless, + and, as far as one can judge, somewhere above thirty—old enough, to + be sure, to have a beard; and seven years afterwards he wore a long one, + which greatly displeased his naive biographer, who seems to consider it a + sort of crime. The head is very remarkable for its stern beauty, and + little, if at all, inferior to that of Napoleon; to which, as I before + remarked, it has some resemblance in expression, if not in feature.) young + and brilliant, the one renowned for his genius, the other eminent for her + beauty. It was, indeed, a dazzling and royal dream in the long night of + Rome, spoiled of her Pontiff and his voluptuous train—that holyday + reign of Cola di Rienzi! And often afterwards it was recalled with a sigh, + not only by the poor for its justice, the merchant for its security, but + the gallant for its splendour, and the poet for its ideal and intellectual + grace! + </p> + <p> + As if to show that it was not to gratify the more vulgar appetite and + desire, in the midst of all his pomp, when the board groaned with the + delicacies of every clime, when the wine most freely circled, the Tribune + himself preserved a temperate and even rigid abstinence. (“Vita di Cola di + Rienzi”.—The biographer praises the abstinence of the Tribune.) + While the apartments of state and the chamber of his bride were adorned + with a profuse luxury and cost, to his own private rooms he transported + precisely the same furniture which had been familiar to him in his + obscurer life. The books, the busts, the reliefs, the arms which had + inspired him heretofore with the visions of the past, were endeared by + associations which he did not care to forego. + </p> + <p> + But that which constituted the most singular feature of his character, and + which still wraps all around him in a certain mystery, was his religious + enthusiasm. The daring but wild doctrines of Arnold of Brescia, who, two + centuries anterior, had preached reform, but inculcated mysticism, still + lingered in Rome, and had in earlier youth deeply coloured the mind of + Rienzi; and as I have before observed, his youthful propensity to dreamy + thought, the melancholy death of his brother, his own various but + successful fortunes, had all contributed to nurse the more zealous and + solemn aspirations of this remarkable man. Like Arnold of Brescia, his + faith bore a strong resemblance to the intense fanaticism of our own + Puritans of the Civil War, as if similar political circumstances conduced + to similar religious sentiments. He believed himself inspired by awful and + mighty commune with beings of the better world. Saints and angels + ministered to his dreams; and without this, the more profound and hallowed + enthusiasm, he might never have been sufficiently emboldened by mere human + patriotism, to his unprecedented enterprise: it was the secret of much of + his greatness,—many of his errors. Like all men who are thus + self-deluded by a vain but not inglorious superstition, united with, and + coloured by, earthly ambition, it is impossible to say how far he was the + visionary, and how far at times he dared to be the impostor. In the + ceremonies of his pageants, in the ornaments of his person, were + invariably introduced mystic and figurative emblems. In times of danger he + publicly professed to have been cheered and directed by divine dreams; and + on many occasions the prophetic warnings he announced having been + singularly verified by the event, his influence with the people was + strengthened by a belief in the favour and intercourse of Heaven. Thus, + delusion of self might tempt and conduce to imposition on others, and he + might not scruple to avail himself of the advantage of seeming what he + believed himself to be. Yet, no doubt this intoxicating credulity pushed + him into extravagance unworthy of, and strangely contrasted by, his + soberer intellect, and made him disproportion his vast ends to his + unsteady means, by the proud fallacy, that where man failed, God would + interpose. Cola di Rienzi was no faultless hero of romance. In him lay, in + conflicting prodigality, the richest and most opposite elements of + character; strong sense, visionary superstition, an eloquence and energy + that mastered all he approached, a blind enthusiasm that mastered himself; + luxury and abstinence, sternness and susceptibility, pride to the great, + humility to the low; the most devoted patriotism and the most avid desire + of personal power. As few men undertake great and desperate designs + without strong animal spirits, so it may be observed, that with most who + have risen to eminence over the herd, there is an aptness, at times, to a + wild mirth and an elasticity of humour which often astonish the more sober + and regulated minds, that are “the commoners of life:” And the theatrical + grandeur of Napoleon, the severe dignity of Cromwell, are strangely + contrasted by a frequent, nor always seasonable buffoonery, which it is + hard to reconcile with the ideal of their characters, or the gloomy and + portentous interest of their careers. And this, equally a trait in the + temperament of Rienzi, distinguished his hours of relaxation, and + contributed to that marvellous versatility with which his harder nature + accommodated itself to all humours and all men. Often from his austere + judgment-seat he passed to the social board an altered man; and even the + sullen Barons who reluctantly attended his feasts, forgot his public + greatness in his familiar wit; albeit this reckless humour could not + always refrain from seeking its subject in the mortification of his + crest-fallen foes—a pleasure it would have been wiser and more + generous to forego. And perhaps it was, in part, the prompting of this + sarcastic and unbridled humour that made him often love to astonish as + well as to awe. But even this gaiety, if so it may be called, taking an + appearance of familiar frankness, served much to ingratiate him with the + lower orders; and, if a fault in the prince, was a virtue in the + demagogue. + </p> + <p> + To these various characteristics, now fully developed, the reader must add + a genius of designs so bold, of conceptions so gigantic and august, + conjoined with that more minute and ordinary ability which masters + details; that with a brave, noble, intelligent, devoted people to back his + projects, the accession of the Tribune would have been the close of the + thraldom of Italy, and the abrupt limit of the dark age of Europe. With + such a people, his faults would have been insensibly checked, his more + unwholesome power have received a sufficient curb. Experience + familiarizing him with power, would have gradually weaned him from + extravagance in its display; and the active and masculine energy of his + intellect would have found field for the more restless spirits, as his + justice gave shelter to the more tranquil. Faults he had, but whether + those faults or the faults of the people, were to prepare his downfall, is + yet to be seen. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, amidst a discontented nobility and a fickle populace, urged on + by the danger of repose to the danger of enterprise; partly blinded by his + outward power, partly impelled by the fear of internal weakness; at once + made sanguine by his genius and his fanaticism, and uneasy by the + expectations of the crowd,—he threw himself headlong into the gulf + of the rushing Time, and surrendered his lofty spirit to no other guidance + than a conviction of its natural buoyancy and its heaven-directed haven. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0027" id="link2HCH0027"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 4.IV. The Enemy’s Camp. + </h2> + <p> + While Rienzi was preparing, in concert, perhaps, with the ambassadors of + the brave Tuscan States, whose pride of country and love of liberty were + well fitted to comprehend, and even share them, his schemes for the + emancipation from all foreign yoke of the Ancient Queen, and the + Everlasting Garden, of the World; the Barons, in restless secrecy, were + revolving projects for the restoration of their own power. + </p> + <p> + One morning, the heads of the Savelli, the Orsini, and the Frangipani, met + at the disfortified palace of Stephen Colonna. Their conference was warm + and earnest—now resolute, now wavering, in its object—as + indignation or fear prevailed. + </p> + <p> + “You have heard,” said Luca di Savelli, in his usual soft and womanly + voice, “that the Tribune has proclaimed, that, the day after tomorrow, he + will take the order of knighthood, and watch the night before in the + church of the Lateran: He has honoured me with a request to attend his + vigil.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes, the knave. What means this new fantasy?” said the brutal Prince + of the Orsini. + </p> + <p> + “Unless it be to have the cavalier’s right to challenge a noble,” said old + Colonna, “I cannot conjecture. Will Rome never grow weary of this madman?” + </p> + <p> + “Rome is the more mad of the two,” said Luca di Savelli; “but methinks, in + his wildness, the Tribune hath committed one error of which we may well + avail ourselves at Avignon.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” cried the old Colonna, “that must be our game; passive here, let us + fight at Avignon.” + </p> + <p> + “In a word then, he hath ordered that his bath shall be prepared in the + holy porphyry vase in which once bathed the Emperor Constantine.” + </p> + <p> + “Profanation! profanation!” cried Stephen. “This is enough to excuse a + bull of excommunication. The Pope shall hear of it. I will despatch a + courier forthwith.” + </p> + <p> + “Better wait and see the ceremony,” said the Savelli; “some greater folly + will close the pomp, be assured.” + </p> + <p> + “Hark ye, my masters,” said the grim Lord of the Orsini; “ye are for delay + and caution; I for promptness and daring; my kinsman’s blood calls aloud, + and brooks no parley.” + </p> + <p> + “And what do?” said the soft-voiced Savelli; “fight without soldiers, + against twenty thousand infuriated Romans? not I.” + </p> + <p> + Orsini sunk his voice into a meaning whisper. “In Venice,” said he, “this + upstart might be mastered without an army. Think you in Rome no man wears + a stiletto?” + </p> + <p> + “Hush,” said Stephen, who was of far nobler and better nature than his + compeers, and who, justifying to himself all other resistance to the + Tribune, felt his conscience rise against assassination; “this must not be—your + zeal transports you.” + </p> + <p> + “Besides, whom can we employ? scarce a German left in the city; and to + whisper this to a Roman were to exchange places with poor Martino—Heaven + take him, for he’s nearer heaven than ever he was before,” said the + Savelli. + </p> + <p> + “Jest me no jests,” cried the Orsini, fiercely. “Jests on such a subject! + By St. Francis I would, since thou lovest such wit, thou hadst it all to + thyself; and, methinks, at the Tribune’s board I have seen thee laugh at + his rude humour, as if thou didst not require a cord to choke thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Better to laugh than to tremble,” returned the Savelli. + </p> + <p> + “How! darest thou say I tremble?” cried the Baron. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush,” said the veteran Colonna, with impatient dignity. “We are + not now in such holiday times as to quarrel amongst ourselves. Forbear, my + lords.” + </p> + <p> + “Your greater prudence, Signor,” said the sarcastic Savelli, “arises from + your greater safety. Your house is about to shelter itself under the + Tribune’s; and when the Lord Adrian returns from Naples, the innkeeper’s + son will be brother to your kinsman.” + </p> + <p> + “You might spare me that taunt,” said the old noble, with some emotion. + “Heaven knows how bitterly I have chafed at the thought; yet I would + Adrian were with us. His word goes far to moderate the Tribune, and to + guide my own course, for my passion beguiles my reason; and since his + departure methinks we have been the more sullen without being the more + strong. Let this pass. If my own son had wed the Tribune’s sister, I would + yet strike a blow for the old constitution as becomes a noble, if I but + saw that the blow would not cut off my own head.” + </p> + <p> + Savelli, who had been whispering apart with Rinaldo Frangipani, now said— + </p> + <p> + “Noble Prince, listen to me. You are bound by your kinsman’s approaching + connection, your venerable age, and your intimacy with the Pontiff, to a + greater caution than we are. Leave to us the management of the enterprise, + and be assured of our discretion.” + </p> + <p> + A young boy, Stefanello, who afterwards succeeded to the representation of + the direct line of the Colonna, and whom the reader will once again + encounter ere our tale be closed, was playing by his grandsire’s knees. He + looked sharply up at Savelli, and said, “My grandfather is too wise, and + you are too timid. Frangipani is too yielding, and Orsini is too like a + vexed bull. I wish I were a year or two older.” + </p> + <p> + “And what would you do, my pretty censurer?” said the smooth Savelli, + biting his smiling lip. + </p> + <p> + “Stab the Tribune with my own stiletto, and then hey for Palestrina!” + </p> + <p> + “The egg will hatch a brave serpent,” quoth the Savelli. “Yet why so + bitter against the Tribune, my cockatrice?” + </p> + <p> + “Because he allowed an insolent mercer to arrest my uncle Agapet for debt. + The debt had been owed these ten years; and though it is said that no + house in Rome has owed more money than the Colonna, this is the first time + I ever heard of a rascally creditor being allowed to claim his debt unless + with doffed cap and bended knee. And I say that I would not live to be a + Baron, if such upstart insolence is to be put upon me.” + </p> + <p> + “My child,” said old Stephen, laughing heartily, “I see our noble order + will be safe enough in your hands.” + </p> + <p> + “And,” continued the child, emboldened by the applause he received, “if I + had time after pricking the Tribune, I would fain have a second stroke at—” + </p> + <p> + “Whom?” said the Savelli, observing the boy pause. + </p> + <p> + “My cousin Adrian. Shame on him, for dreaming to make one a wife whose + birth would scarce fit her for a Colonna’s leman!” + </p> + <p> + “Go play, my child—go play,” said the old Colonna, as he pushed the + boy from him. + </p> + <p> + “Enough of this babble,” cried the Orsini, rudely. “Tell me, old lord; + just as I entered, I saw an old friend (one of your former mercenaries) + quit the palace—may I crave his errand?” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, yes; a messenger from Fra Moreale. I wrote to the Knight, reproving + him for his desertion on our ill-starred return from Corneto, and + intimating that five hundred lances would be highly paid for just now.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” said Savelli; “and what is his answer!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, wily and evasive: He is profuse in compliments and good wishes; but + says he is under fealty to the Hungarian king, whose cause is before + Rienzi’s tribunal; that he cannot desert his present standard; that he + fears Rome is so evenly balanced between patricians and the people, that + whatever party would permanently be uppermost must call in a Podesta; and + this character alone the Provencal insinuates would suit him.” + </p> + <p> + “Montreal our Podesta?” cried the Orsini. + </p> + <p> + “And why not?” said Savelli; “as good a well-born Podesta as a low-born + Tribune? But I trust we may do without either. Colonna, has this messenger + from Fra Moreale left the city?” + </p> + <p> + “I suppose so.” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Orsini; “I met him at the gate, and knew him of old: it is + Rodolf, the Saxon (once a hireling of the Colonna), who has made some + widows among my clients in the good old day. He is a little disguised now; + however, I recognised and accosted him, for I thought he was one who might + yet become a friend, and I bade him await me at my palace.” + </p> + <p> + “You did well,” said the Savelli, musing, and his eyes met those of + Orsini. Shortly afterwards a conference, in which much was said and + nothing settled, was broken up; but Luca di Savelli, loitering at the + porch, prayed the Frangipani, and the other Barons, to adjourn to the + Orsini’s palace. + </p> + <p> + “The old Colonna,” said he, “is well-nigh in his dotage. We shall come to + a quick determination without him, and we can secure his proxy in his + son.” + </p> + <p> + And this was a true prophecy, for half-an-hour’s consultation with Rodolf + of Saxony sufficed to ripen thought into enterprise. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0028" id="link2HCH0028"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 4.V. The Night and its Incidents. + </h2> + <p> + With the following twilight, Rome was summoned to the commencement of the + most magnificent spectacle the Imperial City had witnessed since the fall + of the Caesars. It had been a singular privilege, arrogated by the people + of Rome, to confer upon their citizens the order of knighthood. Twenty + years before, a Colonna and an Orsini had received this popular honour. + Rienzi, who designed it as the prelude to a more important ceremony, + claimed from the Romans a similar distinction. From the Capitol to the + Lateran swept, in long procession, all that Rome boasted of noble, of + fair, and brave. First went horsemen without number, and from all the + neighbouring parts of Italy, in apparel that well befitted the occasion. + Trumpeters, and musicians of all kinds, followed, and the trumpets were of + silver; youths bearing the harness of the knightly war-steed, wrought with + gold, preceded the march of the loftiest matronage of Rome, whose love for + show, and it may be whose admiration for triumphant fame, (which to women + sanctions many offences,) made them forget the humbled greatness of their + lords: amidst them Nina and Irene, outshining all the rest; then came the + Tribune and the Pontiff’s Vicar, surrounded by all the great Signors of + the city, smothering alike resentment, revenge, and scorn, and struggling + who should approach nearest to the monarch of the day. The high-hearted + old Colonna alone remained aloof, following at a little distance, and in a + garb studiously plain. But his age, his rank, his former renown in war and + state, did not suffice to draw to his grey locks and highborn mien a + single one of the shouts that attended the meanest lord on whom the great + Tribune smiled. Savelli followed nearest to Rienzi, the most obsequious of + the courtly band; immediately before the Tribune came two men; the one + bore a drawn sword, the other the pendone, or standard usually assigned to + royalty. The tribune himself was clothed in a long robe of white satin, + whose snowy dazzle (miri candoris) is peculiarly dwelt on by the + historian, richly decorated with gold; while on his breast were many of + those mystic symbols I have before alluded to, the exact meaning of which + was perhaps known only to the wearer. In his dark eye, and on that large + tranquil brow, in which thought seemed to sleep, as sleeps a storm, there + might be detected a mind abstracted from the pomp around; but ever and + anon he roused himself, and conversed partially with Raimond or Savelli. + </p> + <p> + “This is a quaint game,” said the Orsini, falling back to the old Colonna: + “but it may end tragically.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks it may,” said the old man, “if the Tribune overhear thee.” + </p> + <p> + Orsini grew pale. “How—nay—nay, even if he did, he never + resents words, but professes to laugh at our spoken rage. It was but the + other day that some knave told him what one of the Annibaldi said of him—words + for which a true cavalier would have drawn the speaker’s life’s blood; and + he sent for the Annibaldi, and said, ‘My friend, receive this purse of + gold,—court wits should be paid.’” + </p> + <p> + “Did Annibaldi take the gold?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no; the Tribune was pleased with his spirit, and made him sup with + him; and Annibaldi says he never spent a merrier evening, and no longer + wonders that his kinsman, Riccardo, loves the buffoon so.” + </p> + <p> + Arrived now at the Lateran, Luca di Savelli fell also back, and whispered + to Orsini; the Frangipani, and some other of the nobles, exchanged meaning + looks; Rienzi, entering the sacred edifice in which, according to custom, + he was to pass the night watching his armour, bade the crowd farewell, and + summoned them the next morning, “To hear things that might, he trusted, be + acceptable to heaven and earth.” + </p> + <p> + The immense multitude received this intimation with curiosity and + gladness, while those who had been in some measure prepared by Cecco del + Vecchio, hailed it as an omen of their Tribune’s unflagging resolution. + The concourse dispersed with singular order and quietness; it was recorded + as a remarkable fact, that in so great a crowd, composed of men of all + parties, none exhibited licence or indulged in quarrel. Some of the barons + and cavaliers, among whom was Luca di Savelli, whose sleek urbanity and + sarcastic humour found favour with the Tribune, and a few subordinate + pages and attendants, alone remained; and, save a single sentinel at the + porch, that broad space before the Palace, the Basilica and Fount of + Constantine, soon presented a silent and desolate void to the melancholy + moonlight. Within the church, according to the usage of the time and rite, + the descendant of the Teuton kings received the order of the Santo + Spirito. His pride, or some superstition equally weak, though more + excusable, led him to bathe in the porphyry vase which an absurd legend + consecrated to Constantine; and this, as Savelli predicted, cost him dear. + These appointed ceremonies concluded, his arms were placed in that part of + the church, within the columns of St. John. And here his state bed was + prepared. (In a more northern country, the eve of knighthood would have + been spent without sleeping. In Italy, the ceremony of watching the armour + does not appear to have been so rigidly observed.) + </p> + <p> + The attendant barons, pages, and chamberlains, retired out of sight to a + small side chapel in the edifice; and Rienzi was left alone. A single + lamp, placed beside his bed, contended with the mournful rays of the moon, + that cast through the long casements, over aisle and pillar, its “dim + religious light.” The sanctity of the place, the solemnity of the hour, + and the solitary silence round, were well calculated to deepen the + high-wrought and earnest mood of that son of fortune. Many and high + fancies swept over his mind—now of worldly aspirations, now of more + august but visionary belief, till at length, wearied with his own + reflections, he cast himself on the bed. It was an omen which graver + history has not neglected to record, that the moment he pressed the bed, + new prepared for the occasion, part of it sank under him: he himself was + affected by the accident, and sprung forth, turning pale and muttering; + but, as if ashamed of his weakness, after a moment’s pause, again composed + himself to rest, and drew the drapery round him. + </p> + <p> + The moonbeams grew fainter and more faint as the time proceeded, and the + sharp distinction between light and shade faded fast from the marble + floor; when from behind a column at the furthest verge of the building, a + strange shadow suddenly crossed the sickly light—it crept on—it + moved, but without an echo,—from pillar to pillar it flitted—it + rested at last behind the column nearest to the Tribune’s bed—it + remained stationary. + </p> + <p> + The shades gathered darker and darker round; the stillness seemed to + deepen; the moon was gone; and, save from the struggling ray of the lamp + beside Rienzi, the blackness of night closed over the solemn and ghostly + scene. + </p> + <p> + In one of the side chapels, as I have before said, which, in the many + alterations the church has undergone, is probably long since destroyed, + were Savelli and the few attendants retained by the Tribune. Savelli alone + slept not; he remained sitting erect, breathless and listening, while the + tall lights in the chapel rendered yet more impressive the rapid changes + of his countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Now pray Heaven,” said he, “the knave miscarry not! Such an occasion may + never again occur! He has a strong arm and a dexterous hand, doubtless; + but the other is a powerful man. The deed once done, I care not whether + the doer escape or not; if not, why we must stab him! Dead men tell no + tales. At the worst, who can avenge Rienzi? There is no other Rienzi! + Ourselves and the Frangipani seize the Aventine, the Colonna and the + Orsini the other quarters of the city; and without the master-spirit, we + may laugh at the mad populace. But if discovered;—” and Savelli, + who, fortunately for his foes, had not nerves equal to his will, covered + his face and shuddered;—“I think I hear a noise!—no—is + it the wind?—tush, it must be old Vico de Scotto, turning in his + shell of mail!—silent—I like not that silence! No cry—no + sound! Can the ruffian have played us false? or could he not scale the + casement? It is but a child’s effort;—or did the sentry spy him?” + </p> + <p> + Time passed on: the first ray of daylight slowly gleamed, when he thought + he heard the door of the church close. Savelli’s suspense became + intolerable: he stole from the chapel, and came in sight of the Tribune’s + bed—all was silent. + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps the silence of death,” said Savelli, as he crept back. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the Tribune, vainly endeavouring to close his eyes, was rendered + yet more watchful by the uneasy position he was obliged to assume—for + the part of the bed towards the pillow having given way, while the rest + remained solid, he had inverted the legitimate order of lying, and drawn + himself up as he might best accommodate his limbs, towards the foot of the + bed. The light of the lamp, though shaded by the draperies, was thus + opposite to him. Impatient of his wakefulness, he at last thought it was + this dull and flickering light which scared away the slumber, and was + about to rise, to remove it further from him, when he saw the curtain at + the other end of the bed gently lifted: he remained quiet and alarmed;—ere + he could draw a second breath, a dark figure interposed between the light + and the bed; and he felt that a stroke was aimed against that part of the + couch, which, but for the accident that had seemed to him ominous, would + have given his breast to the knife. Rienzi waited not a second and + better-directed blow; as the assassin yet stooped, groping in the + uncertain light, he threw on him all the weight and power of his large and + muscular frame, wrenched the stiletto from the bravo’s hand, and dashing + him on the bed, placed his knee on his breast.—The stiletto rose—gleamed—descended—the + murtherer swerved aside, and it pierced only his right arm. The Tribune + raised, for a deadlier blow, the revengeful blade. + </p> + <p> + The assassin thus foiled was a man used to all form and shape of danger, + and he did not now lose his presence of mind. + </p> + <p> + “Hold!” said he; “if you kill me, you will die yourself. Spare me, and I + will save you.” + </p> + <p> + “Miscreant!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush—not so loud, or you will disturb your attendants, and some of + them may do what I have failed to execute. Spare me, I say, and I will + reveal that which were worth more than my life; but call not—speak + not aloud, I warn you!” + </p> + <p> + The Tribune felt his heart stand still: in that lonely place, afar from + his idolizing people—his devoted guards—with but loathing + barons, or, it might be, faithless menials, within call, might not the + baffled murtherer give a wholesome warning?—and those words and that + doubt seemed suddenly to reverse their respective positions, and leave the + conqueror still in the assassin’s power. + </p> + <p> + “Thou thinkest to deceive me,” said he, but in a voice whispered and + uncertain, which shewed the ruffian the advantage he had gained: “thou + wouldst that I might release thee without summoning my attendants, that + thou mightst a second time attempt my life.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou hast disabled my right arm, and disarmed me of my only weapon.” + </p> + <p> + “How camest thou hither?” + </p> + <p> + “By connivance.” + </p> + <p> + “Whence this attempt?” + </p> + <p> + “The dictation of others.” + </p> + <p> + “If I pardon thee—” + </p> + <p> + “Thou shalt know all!” + </p> + <p> + “Rise,” said the Tribune, releasing his prisoner, but with great caution, + and still grasping his shoulder with one hand, while the other pointed the + dagger at his throat. + </p> + <p> + “Did my sentry admit thee? There is but one entrance to the church, + methinks.” + </p> + <p> + “He did not; follow me, and I will tell thee more.” + </p> + <p> + “Dog! thou hast accomplices?” + </p> + <p> + “If I have, thou hast the knife at my throat.” + </p> + <p> + “Wouldst thou escape?” + </p> + <p> + “I cannot, or I would.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi looked hard, by the dull light of the lamp, at the assassin. His + rugged and coarse countenance, rude garb, and barbarian speech, seemed to + him proof sufficient that he was but the hireling of others; and it might + be wise to brave one danger present and certain, to prevent much danger + future and unforeseen. Rienzi, too, was armed, strong, active, in the + prime of life;—and at the worst, there was no part of the building + whence his voice would not reach those within the chapel,—if they + could be depended upon. + </p> + <p> + “Shew me then thy place and means of entrance,” said he; “and if I but + suspect thee as we move—thou diest. Take up the lamp.” + </p> + <p> + The ruffian nodded; with his left hand took up the lamp as he was ordered; + and with Rienzi’s grasp on his shoulder, while the wound from his right + arm dropped gore as he passed, he moved noiselessly along the church—gained + the altar—to the left of which was a small room for the use or + retirement of the priest. To this he made his way. Rienzi’s heart misgave + him a moment. + </p> + <p> + “Beware,” he whispered, “the least sign of fraud, and thou art the first + victim!” + </p> + <p> + The assassin nodded again, and proceeded. They entered the room; and then + the Tribune’s strange guide pointed to an open casement. “Behold my + entrance,” said he; “and, if you permit me, my egress—” + </p> + <p> + “The frog gets not out of the well so easily as he came in, friend,” + returned Rienzi, smiling. “And now, if I am not to call my guards, what am + I to do with thee!” + </p> + <p> + “Let me go, and I will seek thee tomorrow; and if thou payest me + handsomely, and promisest not to harm limb or life, I will put thine + enemies and my employers in thy power.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi could not refrain from a slight laugh at the proposition, but + composing himself, replied—“And what if I call my attendants, and + give thee to their charge?” + </p> + <p> + “Thou givest me to those very enemies and employers; and in despair lest I + betray them, ere the day dawn they cut my throat—or thine.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks knave, I have seen thee before.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou hast. I blush not for name or country. I am Rodolf of Saxony!” + </p> + <p> + “I remember me:—servitor of Walter de Montreal. He, then, is thy + instigator!” + </p> + <p> + “Roman, no! That noble Knight scorns other weapon than the open sword, and + his own hand slays his own foes. Your pitiful, miserable, dastard + Italians, alone employ the courage, and hire the arm, of others.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi remained silent. He had released hold of his prisoner, and stood + facing him; every now and then regarding his countenance, and again + relapsing into thought. At length, casting his eyes round the small + chamber thus singularly tenanted, he observed a kind of closet, in which + the priests’ robes, and some articles used in the sacred service, were + contained. It suggested at once an escape from his dilemma: he pointed to + it— + </p> + <p> + “There, Rodolf of Saxony, shalt thou pass some part of this night—a + small penance for thy meditated crime; and tomorrow, as thou lookest for + life, thou wilt reveal all.” + </p> + <p> + “Hark, ye, Tribune,” returned the Saxon, doggedly; “my liberty is in your + power, but neither my tongue nor my life. If I consent to be caged in that + hole, you must swear on the crossed hilt of the dagger that you now hold, + that, on confession of all I know, you pardon and set me free. My + employers are enough to glut your rage an’ you were a tiger. If you do not + swear this—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, my modest friend!—the alternative?” + </p> + <p> + “I brain myself against the stone wall! Better such a death than the + rack!” + </p> + <p> + “Fool, I want not revenge against such as thou. Be honest, and I swear + that, twelve hours after thy confession, thou shalt stand safe and + unscathed without the walls of Rome. So help me our Lord and his saints.” + </p> + <p> + “I am content!—Donner und Hagel, I have lived long enough to care + only for my own life, and the great captain’s next to it;—for the + rest, I reck not if ye southerns cut each other’s throats, and make all + Italy one grave.” + </p> + <p> + With this benevolent speech, Rodolf entered the closet; but ere Rienzi + could close the door, he stepped forth again— + </p> + <p> + “Hold,” said he: “this blood flows fast. Help me to bandage it, or I shall + bleed to death ere my confession.” + </p> + <p> + “Per fede,” said the Tribune, his strange humour enjoying the man’s cool + audacity; “but, considering the service thou wouldst have rendered me, + thou art the most pleasant, forbearing, unabashed, good fellow, I have + seen this many a year. Give us thine own belt. I little thought my first + eve of knighthood would have been so charitably spent!” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks these robes would make a better bandage,” said Rodolf, pointing + to the priests’ gear suspended from the wall. + </p> + <p> + “Silence, knave,” said the Tribune, frowning; “no sacrilege! Yet, as thou + takest such dainty care of thyself, thou shalt have mine own scarf to + accommodate thee.” + </p> + <p> + With that the Tribune, placing his dagger on the ground, while he + cautiously guarded it with his foot, bound up the wounded limb, for which + condescension Rodolf gave him short thanks; resumed his weapon and lamp; + closed the door; drew over it the long, heavy bolt without, and returned + to his couch, deeply and indignantly musing over the treason he had so + fortunately escaped. + </p> + <p> + At the first grey streak of dawn he went out of the great door of the + church, called the sentry, who was one of his own guard, and bade him + privately, and now ere the world was astir, convey the prisoner to one of + the private dungeons of the Capitol. “Be silent,” said he: “utter not a + word of this to any one; be obedient, and thou shalt be promoted. This + done, find out the councillor, Pandulfo di Guido, and bid him seek me here + ere the crowd assemble.” + </p> + <p> + He then, making the sentinel doff his heavy shoes of iron, led him across + the church, resigned Rodolf to his care, saw them depart, and in a few + minutes afterwards his voice was heard by the inmates of the neighbouring + chapel; and he was soon surrounded by his train. + </p> + <p> + He was already standing on the floor, wrapped in a large gown lined with + furs; and his piercing eye scanned carefully the face of each man that + approached. Two of the Barons of the Frangipani family exhibited some + tokens of confusion and embarrassment, from which they speedily recovered + at the frank salutation of the Tribune. + </p> + <p> + But all the art of Savelli could not prevent his features from betraying + to the most indifferent eye the terror of his soul;—and, when he + felt the penetrating gaze of Rienzi upon him, he trembled in every joint. + Rienzi alone did not, however, seem to notice his disorder; and when Vico + di Scotto, an old knight, from whose hands he received his sword, asked + him how he had passed the night, he replied, cheerfully— + </p> + <p> + “Well, well—my brave friend! Over a maiden knight some good angel + always watches. Signor Luca di Savelli, I fear you have slept but ill: you + seem pale. No matter!—our banquet today will soon brighten the + current of your gay blood.” + </p> + <p> + “Blood, Tribune!” said di Scotto, who was innocent of the plot: “Thou + sayest blood, and lo! on the floor are large gouts of it not yet dry.” + </p> + <p> + “Now, out on thee, old hero, for betraying my awkwardness! I pricked + myself with my own dagger in unrobing. Thank Heaven it hath no poison in + its blade!” + </p> + <p> + The Frangipani exchanged looks,—Luca di Savelli clung to a column + for support,—and the rest of the attendants seemed grave and + surprised. + </p> + <p> + “Think not of it, my masters,” said Rienzi: “it is a good omen, and a true + prophecy. It implies that he who girds on his sword for the good of the + state, must be ready to spill his blood for it: that am I. No more of this—a + mere scratch: it gave more blood than I recked of from so slight a + puncture, and saves the leech the trouble of the lancet. How brightly + breaks the day! We must prepare to meet our fellow-citizens—they + will be here anon. Ha, my Pandulfo—welcome!—thou, my old + friend, shalt buckle on this mantle!” + </p> + <p> + And while Pandulfo was engaged in the task, the Tribune whispered a few + words in his ear, which, by the smile on his countenance, seemed to the + attendants one of the familiar jests with which Rienzi distinguished his + intercourse with his more confidential intimates. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0029" id="link2HCH0029"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 4.VI. The Celebrated Citation. + </h2> + <p> + The bell of the great Lateran church sounded shrill and loud, as the + mighty multitude, greater even than that of the preceding night, swept on. + The appointed officers made way with difficulty for the barons and + ambassadors, and scarcely were those noble visitors admitted ere the crowd + closed in their ranks, poured headlong into the church, and took the way + to the chapel of Boniface VIII. There, filling every cranny, and blocking + up the entrance, the more fortunate of the press beheld the Tribune + surrounded by the splendid court his genius had collected, and his fortune + had subdued. At length, as the solemn and holy music began to swell + through the edifice, preluding the celebration of the mass, the Tribune + stepped forth, and the hush of the music was increased by the universal + and dead silence of the audience. His height, his air, his countenance, + were such as always command the attention of crowds; and at this time they + received every adjunct from the interest of the occasion, and that + peculiar look of intent yet suppressed fervour, which is, perhaps, the + sole gift of the eloquent that Nature alone can give. + </p> + <p> + “Be it known,” said he, slowly and deliberately, “in virtue of that + authority, power, and jurisdiction, which the Roman people, in general + parliament, have assigned to us, and which the Sovereign Pontiff hath + confirmed, that we, not ungrateful of the gift and grace of the Holy + Spirit—whose soldier we now are—nor of the favour of the Roman + people, declare, that Rome, capital of the world, and base of the + Christian church; and that every City, State, and People of Italy, are + henceforth free. By that freedom, and in the same consecrated authority, + we proclaim, that the election, jurisdiction, and monarchy of the Roman + empire appertain to Rome and Rome’s people, and the whole of Italy. We + cite, then, and summon personally, the illustrious princes, Louis Duke of + Bavaria, and Charles king of Bohemia, who would style themselves Emperors + of Italy, to appear before us, or the other magistrates of Rome, to plead + and to prove their claim between this day and the Day of Pentecost. We + cite also, and within the same term, the Duke of Saxony, the Prince of + Brandenburg, and whosoever else, potentate, prince, or prelate, asserts + the right of Elector to the imperial throne—a right that, we find it + chronicled from ancient and immemorial time, appertaineth only to the + Roman people—and this in vindication of our civil liberties, without + derogation of the spiritual power of the Church, the Pontiff, and the + Sacred College. Herald, proclaim the citation, at the greater and more + formal length, as written and intrusted to your hands, without the + Lateran.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (“Il tutto senza derogare all’ autorita della Chiesa, del + Papa e del Sacro Collegio.” So concludes this extraordinary + citation, this bold and wonderful assertion of the classic + independence of Italy, in the most feudal time of the + fourteenth century. The anonymous biographer of Rienzi + declares that the Tribune cited also the Pope and the + Cardinals to reside in Rome. De Sade powerfully and + incontrovertibly refutes this addition to the daring or the + extravagance of Rienzi. Gibbon, however, who has rendered + the rest of the citation in terms more abrupt and + discourteous than he was warranted by any authority, copies + the biographer’s blunder, and sneers at De Sade, as using + arguments “rather of decency than of weight.” Without + wearying the reader with all the arguments of the learned + Abbe, it may be sufficient to give the first two. + + 1st. All the other contemporaneous historians that have + treated of this event, G. Villani, Hocsemius, the Vatican + MSS. and other chroniclers, relating the citation of the + Emperor and Electors, say nothing of that of the Pope and + Cardinals; and the Pope (Clement VI.), in his subsequent + accusations of Rienzi, while very bitter against his + citation of the Emperor, is wholly silent on what would have + been to the Pontiff the much greater offence of citing + himself and the Cardinals.) + + 2. The literal act of this citation, as published formally + in the Lateran, is extant in Hocsemius, (whence is borrowed, + though not at all its length, the speech in the text of our + present tale;) and in this document the Pope and his + Cardinals are not named in the summons. + + Gibbon’s whole account of Rienzi is superficial and unfair. + To the cold and sneering scepticism, which so often deforms + the gigantic work of that great writer, allowing nothing for + that sincere and urgent enthusiasm which, whether of liberty + or religion, is the most common parent of daring action, the + great Roman seems but an ambitious and fantastic madman. In + Gibbon’s hands what would Cromwell have been? what Vane? + what Hampden? The pedant, Julian, with his dirty person and + pompous affectation, was Gibbon’s ideal of a great man.) +</pre> + <p> + As Rienzi concluded this bold proclamation of the liberties of Italy, the + Tuscan ambassadors, and those of some other of the free states, murmured + low approbation. The ambassadors of those States that affected the party + of the Emperor looked at each other in silent amaze and consternation. The + Roman Barons remained with mute lips and downcast eyes; only over the aged + face of Stephen Colonna settled a smile, half of scorn, half of + exultation. But the great mass of the citizens were caught by words that + opened so grand a prospect as the emancipation of all Italy: and their + reverence of the Tribune’s power and fortune was almost that due to a + supernatural being; so that they did not pause to calculate the means + which were to correspond with the boast. + </p> + <p> + While his eye roved over the crowd, the gorgeous assemblage near him, the + devoted throng beyond;—as on his ear boomed the murmur of thousands + and ten thousands, in the space without, from before the Palace of + Constantine (Palace now his own!) sworn to devote life and fortune to his + cause; in the flush of prosperity that yet had known no check; in the + zenith of power, as yet unconscious of reverse, the heart of the Tribune + swelled proudly: visions of mighty fame and limitless dominion,—fame + and dominion, once his beloved Rome’s and by him to be restored, rushed + before his intoxicated gaze; and in the delirious and passionate + aspirations of the moment, he turned his sword alternately to the three + quarters of the then known globe, and said, in an abstracted voice, as a + man in a dream, “In the right of the Roman people this too is mine!” + (“Questo e mio.”) + </p> + <p> + Low though the voice, the wild boast was heard by all around as distinctly + as if borne to them in thunder. And vain it were to describe the various + sensations it excited; the extravagance would have moved the derision of + his foes, the grief of his friends, but for the manner of the speaker, + which, solemn and commanding, hushed for the moment even reason and hatred + themselves in awe; afterwards remembered and repeated, void of the spell + they had borrowed from the utterer, the words met the cold condemnation of + the well-judging; but at that moment all things seemed possible to the + hero of the people. He spoke as one inspired—they trembled and + believed; and, as rapt from the spectacle, he stood a moment silent, his + arm still extended—his dark dilating eye fixed upon space—his + lip parted—his proud head towering and erect above the herd,—his + own enthusiasm kindled that of the more humble and distant spectators; and + there was a deep murmur begun by one, echoed by the rest, “The Lord is + with Italy and Rienzi!” + </p> + <p> + The Tribune turned, he saw the Pope’s Vicar astonished, bewildered, rising + to speak. His sense and foresight returned to him at once, and, resolved + to drown the dangerous disavowal of the Papal authority for this + hardihood, which was ready to burst from Raimond’s lips, he motioned + quickly to the musicians, and the solemn and ringing chant of the sacred + ceremony prevented the Bishop of Orvietto all occasion of self-exoneration + or reply. + </p> + <p> + The moment the ceremony was over, Rienzi touched the Bishop, and + whispered, “We will explain this to your liking. You feast with us at the + Lateran.—Your arm.” Nor did he leave the good Bishop’s arm, nor + trust him to other companionship, until to the stormy sound of horn and + trumpet, drum and cymbal, and amidst such a concourse as might have + hailed, on the same spot, the legendary baptism of Constantine, the + Tribune and his nobles entered the great gates of the Lateran, then the + Palace of the World. + </p> + <p> + Thus ended that remarkable ceremony and that proud challenge of the + Northern Powers, in behalf of the Italian liberties, which, had it been + afterwards successful, would have been deemed a sublime daring; which, + unsuccessful, has been construed by the vulgar into a frantic insolence; + but which, calmly considering all the circumstances that urged on the + Tribune, and all the power that surrounded him, was not, perhaps, + altogether so imprudent as it seemed. And, even accepting that imprudence + in the extremest sense,—by the more penetrating judge of the higher + order of character, it will probably be considered as the magnificent + folly of a bold nature, excited at once by position and prosperity, by + religious credulities, by patriotic aspirings, by scholastic visions too + suddenly transferred from revery to action, beyond that wise and earthward + policy which sharpens the weapon ere it casts the gauntlet. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0030" id="link2HCH0030"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 4.VII. The Festival. + </h2> + <p> + The Festival of that day was far the most sumptuous hitherto known. The + hint of Cecco del Vecchio, which so well depicted the character of his + fellow-citizens, as yet it exists, though not to such excess, in their + love of holyday pomp and gorgeous show, was not lost upon Rienzi. One + instance of the universal banqueting (intended, indeed, rather for the + people than the higher ranks) may illustrate the more than royal profusion + that prevailed. From morn till eve, streams of wine flowed like a fountain + from the nostrils of the Horse of the great Equestrian Statue of + Constantine. The mighty halls of the Lateran palace, open to all ranks, + were prodigally spread; and the games, sports, and buffooneries of the + time, were in ample requisition. Apart, the Tribunessa, as Nina was rather + unclassically entitled, entertained the dames of Rome; while the Tribune + had so effectually silenced or conciliated Raimond, that the good Bishop + shared his peculiar table—the only one admitted to that honour. As + the eye ranged each saloon and hall—it beheld the space lined with + all the nobility and knighthood—the wealth and strength—the + learning and the beauty—of the Italian metropolis; mingled with + ambassadors and noble strangers, even from beyond the Alps; (The simple + and credulous briographer of Rienzi declares his fame to have reached the + ears of the Soldan of Babylon.)—envoys not only of the free states + that had welcomed the rise of the Tribune, but of the highborn and haughty + tyrants who had first derided his arrogance, and now cringed to his power. + There, were not only the ambassadors of Florence, of Sienna, of Arezzo + (which last subjected its government to the Tribune,) of Todi, of Spoleto, + and of countless other lesser towns and states, but of the dark and + terrible Visconti, prince of Milan; of Obizzo of Ferrara, and the tyrant + rulers of Verona and Bologna; even the proud and sagacious Malatesta, lord + of Rimini, whose arm afterwards broke for awhile the power of Montreal, at + the head of his Great Company, had deputed his representative in his most + honoured noble. John di Vico, the worst and most malignant despot of his + day, who had sternly defied the arms of the Tribune, now subdued and + humbled, was there in person; and the ambassadors of Hungary and of Naples + mingled with those of Bavaria and Bohemia, whose sovereigns that day had + been cited to the Roman Judgment Court. The nodding of plumes, the glitter + of jewels and cloth of gold, the rustling of silks and jingle of golden + spurs, the waving of banners from the roof, the sounds of minstrelsy from + the galleries above, all presented a picture of such power and state—a + court and chivalry of such show—as the greatest of the feudal kings + might have beheld with a sparkling eye and a swelling heart. But at that + moment the cause and lord of all that splendour, recovered from his late + exhilaration, sat moody and abstracted, remembering with a thoughtful brow + the adventure of the past night, and sensible that amongst his gaudiest + revellers lurked his intended murtherers. Amidst the swell of the + minstrelsy and the pomp of the crowd, he felt that treason scowled beside + him; and the image of the skeleton obtruding, as of old, its grim thought + of death upon the feast, darkened the ruby of the wine, and chilled the + glitter of the scene. + </p> + <p> + It was while the feast was loudest that Rienzi’s page was seen gliding + through the banquet, and whispering several of the nobles; each bowed low, + but changed colour as he received the message. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord Savelli,” said Orsini, himself trembling, “bear yourself more + bravely. This must be meant in honour, not revenge. I suppose your summons + corresponds with mine.” + </p> + <p> + “He—he—asks—asks—me to supper at the Capitol; a + fri-endly meeting—(pest on his friendship!)—after the noise of + the day.” + </p> + <p> + “The words addressed also to me!” said Orsini, turning to one of the + Frangipani. + </p> + <p> + Those who received the summons soon broke from the feast, and collected in + a group, eagerly conferring. Some were for flight, but flight was + confession; their number, rank, long and consecrated impunity, reassured + them, and they resolved to obey. The old Colonna, the sole innocent Baron + of the invited guests, was also the only one who refused the invitation. + “Tush!” said he, peevishly; “here is feasting enough for one day! Tell the + Tribune that ere he sups I hope to be asleep. Grey hairs cannot encounter + all this fever of festivity.” + </p> + <p> + As Rienzi rose to depart, which he did early, for the banquet took place + while yet morning, Raimond, eager to escape and confer with some of his + spiritual friends, as to the report he should make to the Pontiff, was + beginning his expressions of farewell, when the merciless Tribune said to + him gravely— + </p> + <p> + “My Lord, we want you on urgent business at the Capitol. A prisoner—a + trial—perhaps (he added with his portentous and prophetic frown) an + execution waits us! Come.” + </p> + <p> + “Verily, Tribune,” stammered the good Bishop, “this is a strange time for + execution!” + </p> + <p> + “Last night was a time yet more strange.—Come.” + </p> + <p> + There was something in the way in which the final word was pronounced, + that Raimond could not resist. He sighed, muttered, twitched his robes, + and followed the Tribune. As he passed through the halls, the company rose + on all sides. Rienzi repaid their salutations with smiles and whispers of + frank courtesy and winning address. Young as he yet was, and of a handsome + and noble presence, that took every advantage from splendid attire, and + yet more from an appearance of intellectual command in his brow and eye, + which the less cultivated signors of that dark age necessarily wanted—he + glittered through the court as one worthy to form, and fitted to preside + over, it; and his supposed descent from the Teuton Emperor, which, since + his greatness, was universally bruited and believed abroad, seemed + undeniably visible to the foreign lords in the majesty of his mien and the + easy blandness of his address. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord Prefect,” said he to a dark and sullen personage in black velvet, + the powerful and arrogant John di Vico, prefect of Rome, “we are rejoiced + to find so noble a guest at Rome: we must repay the courtesy by surprising + you in your own palace ere long;—nor will you, Signor (as he turned + to the envoy from Tivoli,) refuse us a shelter amidst your groves and + waterfalls ere the vintage be gathered. Methinks Rome, united with sweet + Tivoli, grows reconciled to the Muses. Your suit is carried, Master + Venoni: the council recognises its justice; but I reserved the news for + this holyday—you do not blame me, I trust.” This was whispered, with + a half-affectionate frankness, to a worthy citizen, who, finding himself + amidst so many of the great, would have shrunk from the notice of the + Tribune; but it was the policy of Rienzi to pay an especial and marked + attention to those engaged in commercial pursuits. As, after tarrying a + moment or two with the merchant, he passed on, the tall person of the old + Colonna caught his eye— + </p> + <p> + “Signor,” said he, with a profound inclination of his head, but with a + slight emphasis of tone, “you will not fail us this evening.” + </p> + <p> + “Tribune—” began the Colonna. + </p> + <p> + “We receive no excuse,” interrupted the Tribune, hastily, and passed on. + </p> + <p> + He halted for a few moments before a small group of men plainly attired, + who were watching him with intense interest; for they, too, were scholars, + and in Rienzi’s rise they saw another evidence of that wonderful and + sudden power which intellect had begun to assume over brute force. With + these, as if abruptly mingled with congenial spirits, the Tribune relaxed + all the gravity of his brow. Happier, perhaps, his living career—more + unequivocal his posthumous renown—had his objects as his tastes been + theirs! + </p> + <p> + “Ah, carissime!” said he to one, whose arm he drew within his own,—“and + how proceeds thy interpretation of the old marbles?—half unravelled? + I rejoice to hear it! Confer with me as of old, I pray thee. Tomorrow—no, + nor the day after, but next week—we will have a tranquil evening. + Dear poet, your ode transported me to the days of Horace; yet, methinks, + we do wrong to reject the vernacular for the Latin. You shake your head? + Well, Petrarch thinks with you: his great epic moves with the stride of a + giant—so I hear from his friend and envoy,—and here he is. My + Laeluis, is that not your name with Petrarch? How shall I express my + delight at his comforting, his inspiring letter? Alas! he overrates not my + intentions, but my power. Of this hereafter.” + </p> + <p> + A slight shade darkened the Tribune’s brow at these words: but moving on, + a long line of nobles and princes on either side, he regained his + self-possession, and the dignity he had dropped with his former equals. + Thus he passed through the crowd, and gradually disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “He bears him bravely,” said one, as the revellers reseated themselves. + “Noticed you the ‘we’—the style royal?” + </p> + <p> + “But it must be owned that he lords it well,” said the ambassador of the + Visconti: “less pride would be cringing to his haughty court.” + </p> + <p> + “Why,” said a professor of Bologna, “why is the Tribune called proud? I + see no pride in him.” + </p> + <p> + “Nor I,” said a wealthy jeweller. + </p> + <p> + While these, and yet more contradictory, comments followed the exit of the + Tribune, he passed into the saloon, where Nina presided; and here his fair + person and silver tongue (“Suavis colorataeque sententiae,” according to + the description of Petrarch) won him a more general favour with the + matrons than he experienced with their lords, and not a little contrasted + the formal and nervous compliments of the good Bishop, who served him on + such occasions with an excellent foil. + </p> + <p> + But as soon as these ceremonies were done, and Rienzi mounted his horse, + his manner changed at once into a stern and ominous severity. + </p> + <p> + “Vicar,” said he, abruptly, to the Bishop, “we might well need your + presence. Learn that at the Capitol now sits the Council in judgment upon + an assassin. Last night, but for Heaven’s mercy, I should have fallen a + victim to a hireling’s dagger, Knew you aught of this?” + </p> + <p> + And he turned so sharply on the Bishop, that the poor canonist nearly + dropped from his horse in surprise and terror. + </p> + <p> + “I,—” said he. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi smiled—“No, good my Lord Bishop! I see you are of no + murtherer’s mould. But to continue:—that I might not appear to act + in mine own cause, I ordered the prisoner to be tried in my absence. In + his trial (you marked the letter brought me at our banquet?)—” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and you changed colour.” + </p> + <p> + “Well I might: in his trial, I say, he has confessed that nine of the + loftiest lords of Rome were his instigators. They sup with me tonight!—Vicar, + forwards!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0038" id="link2H_4_0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK V. THE CRISIS. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Questo ha acceso ‘i fuoco e la fiamma laquale non la par + spotegnere.”—“Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. i. cap. 29. + + “He has kindled fire and flames which he will not be able to + extinguish.”—“Life of Cola di Rienzi”. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0031" id="link2HCH0031"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 5.I. The Judgment of the Tribune. + </h2> + <p> + The brief words of the Tribune to Stephen Colonna, though they sharpened + the rage of the proud old noble, were such as he did not on reflection + deem it prudent to disobey. Accordingly, at the appointed hour, he found + himself in one of the halls of the Capitol, with a gallant party of his + peers. Rienzi received them with more than his usual graciousness. + </p> + <p> + They sate down to the splendid board in secret uneasiness and alarm, as + they saw that, with the exception of Stephen Colonna, none, save the + conspirators, had been invited to the banquet. Rienzi, regardless of their + silence and abstraction, was more than usually gay—the old Colonna + more than usually sullen. + </p> + <p> + “We fear we have but ill pleased you, my Lord Colonna, by our summons. + Once, methinks, we might more easily provoke you to a smile.” + </p> + <p> + “Situations are changed, Tribune, since you were my guest.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, scarcely so. I have risen, but you have not fallen. Ye walk the + streets day and night in security and peace; your lives are safe from the + robber, and your palaces no longer need bars and battlements to shield you + from your fellow-citizens. I have risen, but we all have risen—from + barbarous disorder into civilized life! My Lord Gianni Colonna, whom we + have made Captain over Campagna, you will not refuse a cup to the Buono + Stato;—nor think we mistrust your valour, when we say, that we + rejoice Rome hath no enemies to attest your generalship.” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” quoth the old Colonna, bluntly, “we shall have enemies enough + from Bohemia and Bavaria, ere the next harvest be green.” + </p> + <p> + “And, if so,” replied the Tribune, calmly, “foreign foes are better than + civil strife.” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, if we have money in the treasury; which is but little likely, if we + have many more such holydays.” + </p> + <p> + “You are ungracious, my Lord,” said the Tribune; “and, besides, you are + more uncomplimentary to Rome than to ourselves. What citizen would not + part with gold to buy fame and liberty?” + </p> + <p> + “I know very few in Rome that would,” answered the Baron. “But tell me, + Tribune, you who are a notable casuist, which is the best for a state—that + its governor should be over-thrifty or over-lavish?” + </p> + <p> + “I refer the question to my friend, Luca di Savelli,” replied Rienzi. “He + is a grand philosopher, and I wot well could explain a much knottier + riddle, which we will presently submit to his acumen.” + </p> + <p> + The Barons, who had been much embarrassed by the bold speech of the old + Colonna, all turned their eyes to Savelli, who answered with more + composure than was anticipated. + </p> + <p> + “The question admits a double reply. He who is born a ruler, and maintains + a foreign army, governing by fear, should be penurious. He who is made + ruler, who courts the people, and would reign by love, must win their + affection by generosity, and dazzle their fancies by pomp. Such, I + believe, is the usual maxim in Italy, which is rife in all experience of + state wisdom.” + </p> + <p> + The Barons unanimously applauded the discreet reply of Savelli, excepting + only the old Colonna. + </p> + <p> + “Yet pardon me, Tribune,” said Stephen, “if I depart from the + courtier-like decision of our friend, and opine, though with all due + respect, that even a friar’s coarse serge, (‘Vestimenta da Bizoco,’ was + the phrase used by Colonna; a phrase borrowed from certain heretics + (bizocchi) who affected extreme austerity; afterwards the word passed into + a proverb.—See the comments of Zerfirino Re, in ‘Vita di Cola di + Rienzi’.) the parade of humility, would better become thee, than this + gaudy pomp, the parade of pride!” So saying, he touched the large loose + sleeve fringed with gold, of the Tribune’s purple robe. + </p> + <p> + “Hush, father!” said Gianni, Colonna’s son, colouring at the unprovoked + rudeness and dangerous candour of the veteran. + </p> + <p> + “Nay, it matters not,” said the Tribune, with affected indifference, + though his lip quivered, and his eye shot fire; and then, after a pause, + he resumed with an awful smile—“If the Colonna love the serge of the + friar, he may see enough of it ere we part. And now, my Lord Savelli, for + my question, which I pray you listen to; it demands all your wit. Is it + best for a State’s Ruler to be over-forgiving, or over-just? Take breath + to answer: you look faint—you grow pale—you tremble—you + cover your face! Traitor and assassin, your conscience betrays you! My + Lords, relieve your accomplice, and take up the answer.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, if we are discovered,” said the Orsini, rising in despair, “we will + not fall unavenged—die, tyrant!” + </p> + <p> + He rushed to the place where Rienzi stood—for the Tribune also rose,—and + made a thrust at his breast with his dagger; the steel pierced the purple + robe, yet glanced harmlessly away—and the Tribune regarded the + disappointed murtherer with a scornful smile. + </p> + <p> + “Till yesternight, I never dreamt that under the robe of state I should + need the secret corselet,” said he. “My Lords, you have taught me a dark + lesson, and I thank ye.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he clapped his hands, and suddenly the folding doors at the end + of the hall flew open, and discovered the saloon of the Council hung with + silk of a blood-red, relieved by rays of white,—the emblem of crime + and death. At a long table sate the councillors in their robes; at the bar + stood a ruffian form, which the banqueters too well recognised. + </p> + <p> + “Bid Rodolf of Saxony approach!” said the Tribune. + </p> + <p> + And led by two guards, the robber entered the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Wretch, you then betrayed us!” said one of the Frangipani. + </p> + <p> + “Rodolph of Saxony goes ever to the highest bidder,” returned the + miscreant, with a horrid grin. “You gave me gold, and I would have slain + your foe; your foe defeated me; he gives me life, and life is a greater + boon than gold!” + </p> + <p> + “Ye confess your crime, my Lords! Silent! dumb! Where is your wit, + Savelli? Where your pride, Rinaldo di Orsini? Gianni Colonna, is your + chivalry come to this?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” continued Rienzi, with deep and passionate bitterness; “oh, my + Lords, will nothing conciliate you—not to me, but to Rome? What hath + been my sin against you and yours? Disbanded ruffians (such as your + accuser)—dismantled fortresses—impartial law—what man, + in all the wild revolutions of Italy, sprung from the people, ever yielded + less to their licence? Not a coin of your coffers touched by wanton power,—not + a hair of your heads harmed by private revenge. You, Gianni Colonna, + loaded with honours, intrusted with command—you, Alphonso di + Frangipani, endowed with new principalities,—did the Tribune + remember one insult he received from you as the Plebeian? You accuse my + pride;—was it my fault that ye cringed and fawned upon my power,—flattery + on your lips, poison at your hearts? No, I have not offended you; let the + world know, that in me you aimed at liberty, justice, law, order, the + restored grandeur, the renovated rights of Rome! At these, the Abstract + and the Immortal—not at this frail form, ye struck;—by the + divinity of these ye are defeated;—for the outraged majesty of + these,—criminals and victims,—ye must die!” + </p> + <p> + With these words, uttered with the tone and air that would have become the + loftiest spirit of the ancient city, Rienzi, with a majestic step, swept + from the chamber into the Hall of Council. (The guilt of the Barons in + their designed assassination of Rienzi, though hastily slurred over by + Gibbon, and other modern writers, is clearly attested by Muratori, the + Bolognese Chronicle &c.—They even confessed the crime. (See + Cron. Estens: Muratori, tom. xviii. page 442.)) + </p> + <p> + All that night the conspirators remained within that room, the doors + locked and guarded; the banquet unremoved, and its splendour strangely + contrasting the mood of the guests. + </p> + <p> + The utter prostration and despair of these dastard criminals—so + unlike the knightly nobles of France and England, has been painted by the + historian in odious and withering colours. The old Colonna alone sustained + his impetuous and imperious character. He strode to and fro the room like + a lion in his cage, uttering loud threats of resentment and defiance; and + beating at the door with his clenched hands, demanding egress, and + proclaiming the vengeance of the Pontiff. + </p> + <p> + The dawn came, slow and grey upon that agonized assembly: and just as the + last star faded from the melancholy horizon, and by the wan and + comfortless heaven, they regarded each other’s faces, almost spectral with + anxiety and fear, the great bell of the Capitol sounded the notes in which + they well recognised the chime of death! It was then that the door opened, + and a drear and gloomy procession of cordeliers, one to each Baron, + entered the apartment! At that spectacle, we are told, the terror of the + conspirators was so great, that it froze up the very power of speech. + (“Diventarono si gelati, che non poteno favellare.”) The greater part at + length, deeming all hope over, resigned themselves to their ghostly + confessors. But when the friar appointed to Stephen approached that + passionate old man, he waved his hand impatiently, and said—“Tease + me not! Tease me not!” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, son, prepare for the awful hour.” + </p> + <p> + “Son, indeed!” quoth the Baron. “I am old enough to be thy grandsire; and + for the rest, tell him who sent thee, that I neither am prepared for + death, nor will prepare! I have made up my mind to live these twenty + years, and longer too;—if I catch not my death with the cold of this + accursed night.” + </p> + <p> + Just at that moment a cry that almost seemed to rend the Capitol asunder + was heard, as, with one voice, the multitude below yelled forth— + </p> + <p> + “Death to the conspirators!—death! death!” + </p> + <p> + While this the scene in that hall, the Tribune issued from his chamber, in + which he had been closeted with his wife and sister. The noble spirit of + the one, the tears and grief of the other (who saw at one fell stroke + perish the house of her betrothed,) had not worked without effect upon a + temper, stern and just indeed, but naturally averse from blood; and a + heart capable of the loftiest species of revenge. + </p> + <p> + He entered the Council, still sitting, with a calm brow, and even a + cheerful eye. + </p> + <p> + “Pandulfo di Guido,” he said, turning to that citizen, “you are right; you + spoke as a wise man and a patriot, when you said that to cut off with one + blow, however merited, the noblest heads of Rome would endanger the State, + sully our purple with an indelible stain, and unite the nobility of Italy + against us.” + </p> + <p> + “Such, Tribune, was my argument, though the Council have decided + otherwise.” + </p> + <p> + “Hearken to the shouts of the populace, you cannot appease their honest + warmth,” said the demagogue Baroncelli. + </p> + <p> + Many of the Council murmured applause. + </p> + <p> + “Friends,” said the Tribune, with a solemn and earnest aspect, “let not + Posterity say that Liberty loves blood; let us for once adopt the example + and imitate the mercy of our great Redeemer! We have triumphed—let + us forbear; we are saved—let us forgive!” + </p> + <p> + The speech of the Tribune was supported by Pandulfo, and others of the + more mild and moderate policy; and for a short but animated discussion, + the influence of Rienzi prevailed, and the sentence of death was revoked, + but by a small majority. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” said Rienzi, “let us be more than just; let us be generous. + Speak—and boldly. Do any of ye think that I have been over-hard, + over-haughty with these stubborn spirits?—I read your answer in your + brows!—I have! Do any of ye think this error of mind may have + stirred them to their dark revenge? Do any of you deem that they partake, + as we do, of human nature,—that they are sensible to kindness, that + they are softened by generosity,—that they can be tamed and disarmed + by such vengeance as is dictated to noble foes by Christian laws?” + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Pandulfo, after a pause, “that it will not be in human + nature, if the men you pardon, thus offending and thus convicted, again + attempt your life!” + </p> + <p> + “Methinks,” said Rienzi, “we must do even more than pardon. The first + great Caesar, when he did not crush a foe, strove to convert him to a + friend—” + </p> + <p> + “And perished by the attempt,” said Baroncelli, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi started and changed colour. + </p> + <p> + “If you would save these wretched prisoners, better not wait till the fury + of the mob become ungovernable,” whispered Pandulfo. + </p> + <p> + The Tribune roused himself from his revery. + </p> + <p> + “Pandulfo,” said he, in the same tone, “my heart misgives me—the + brood of serpents are in my hand—I do not strangle them—they + may sting me to death, in return for my mercy—it is their instinct! + No matter: it shall not be said that the Roman Tribune bought with so many + lives his own safety: nor shall it be written upon my grave-stone, ‘Here + lies the coward, who did not dare forgive.’ What, ho! there, officers, + unclose the doors! My masters, let us acquaint the prisoners with their + sentence.” + </p> + <p> + With that, Rienzi seated himself on the chair of state, at the head of the + table, and the sun, now risen, cast its rays over the blood-red walls, in + which the Barons, marshalled in order into the chamber, thought to read + their fate. + </p> + <p> + “My Lords,” said the Tribune, “ye have offended the laws of God and man; + but God teaches man the quality of mercy. Learn at last, that I bear a + charmed life. Nor is he whom, for high purposes, Heaven hath raised from + the cottage to the popular throne, without invisible aid and spiritual + protection. If hereditary monarchs are deemed sacred, how much more one in + whose power the divine hand hath writ its witness! Yes, over him who lives + but for his country, whose greatness is his country’s gift, whose life is + his country’s liberty, watch the souls of the just, and the unsleeping + eyes of the sworded seraphim! Taught by your late failure and your present + peril, bid your anger against me cease; respect the laws, revere the + freedom of your city, and think that no state presents a nobler spectacle + than men born as ye are—a patrician and illustrious order—using + your power to protect your city, your wealth to nurture its arts, your + chivalry to protect its laws! Take back your swords—and the first + man who strikes against the liberties of Rome, let him be your victim; + even though that victim be the Tribune. Your cause has been tried—your + sentence is pronounced. Renew your oath to forbear all hostility, private + or public, against the government and the magistrates of Rome, and ye are + pardoned—ye are free!” + </p> + <p> + Amazed, bewildered, the Barons mechanically bent the knee: the friars who + had received their confessions, administered the appointed oath; and + while, with white lips, they muttered the solemn words, they heard below + the roar of the multitude for their blood. + </p> + <p> + This ceremony ended, the Tribune passed into the banquet-hall, which + conducted to a balcony, whence he was accustomed to address the people; + and never, perhaps, was his wonderful mastery over the passions of an + audience (ad persuadendum efficax dictator, quoque dulcis ac lepidus) + (Petrarch of Rienzi.) more greatly needed or more eminently shown, than on + that day; for the fury of the people was at its height, and it was long + ere he succeeded in turning it aside. Before he concluded, however, every + wave of the wild sea lay hushed.—The orator lived to stand on the + same spot, to plead for a life nobler than those he now saved,—and + to plead unheard and in vain! + </p> + <p> + As soon as the Tribune saw the favourable moment had arrived, the Barons + were admitted into the balcony:—in the presence of the breathless + thousands, they solemnly pledged themselves to protect the Good Estate. + And thus the morning which seemed to dawn upon their execution witnessed + their reconciliation with the people. + </p> + <p> + The crowd dispersed, the majority soothed and pleased;—the more + sagacious, vexed and dissatisfied. + </p> + <p> + “He has but increased the smoke and the flame which he was not able to + extinguish,” growled Cecco del Vecchio; and the smith’s appropriate saying + passed into a proverb and a prophecy. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, the Tribune, conscious at least that he had taken the more + generous course, broke up the Council, and retired to the chamber where + Nina and his sister waited him. These beautiful young women had conceived + for each other the tenderest affection. And their differing characters, + both of mind and feature, seemed by contrast to heighten the charms of + both; as in a skilful jewellery, the pearl and diamond borrow beauty from + each other. + </p> + <p> + And as Irene now turned her pale countenance and streaming eyes from the + bosom to which she had clung for support, the timid sister, anxious, + doubtful, wistful;—the proud wife, sanguine and assured, as if never + diffident of the intentions nor of the power of her Rienzi:—the + contrast would have furnished to a painter no unworthy incarnation of the + Love that hopeth, and the Love that feareth, all things. + </p> + <p> + “Be cheered, my sweet sister,” said the Tribune, first caught by Irene’s + imploring look; “not a hair on the heads of those who boast the name of + him thou lovest so well is injured.—Thank Heaven,” as his sister, + with a low cry, rushed into his arms, “that it was against my life they + conspired! Had it been another Roman’s, mercy might have been a crime! + Dearest, may Adrian love thee half as well as I; and yet, my sister and my + child, none can know thy soft soul like he who watched over it since its + first blossom expanded to the sun. My poor brother! had he lived, your + counsel had been his; and methinks his gentle spirit often whispers away + the sternness which, otherwise, would harden over mine. Nina, my queen, my + inspirer, my monitor—ever thus let thy heart, masculine in my + distress, be woman’s in my power; and be to me, with Irene, upon earth, + what my brother is in heaven!” + </p> + <p> + The Tribune, exhausted by the trials of the night, retired for a few hours + to rest; and as Nina, encircling him within her arms, watched over his + noble countenance—care hushed, ambition laid at rest, its serenity + had something almost of sublime. And tears of that delicious pride, which + woman sheds for the hero of her dreams, stood heavy in the wife’s eyes, as + she rejoiced more, in the deep stillness of her heart, at the prerogative, + alone hers, of sharing his solitary hours, than in all the rank to which + his destiny had raised her, and which her nature fitted her at once to + adorn and to enjoy. In that calm and lonely hour she beguiled her heart by + waking dreams, vainer than the sleeper’s; and pictured to herself the long + career of glory, the august decline of peace, which were to await her + lord. + </p> + <p> + And while she thus watched and thus dreamed, the cloud, as yet no bigger + than a man’s hand, darkened the horizon of a fate whose sunshine was + well-nigh past! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0032" id="link2HCH0032"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 5.II. The Flight. + </h2> + <p> + Fretting his proud heart, as a steed frets on the bit, old Colonna + regained his palace. To him, innocent of the proposed crime of his kin and + compeers, the whole scene of the night and morning presented but one + feature of insult and degradation. Scarce was he in his palace, ere he + ordered couriers, in whom he knew he could confide, to be in preparation + for his summons. “This to Avignon,” said he to himself, as he concluded an + epistle to the Pontiff.—“We will see whether the friendship of the + great house of the Colonna will outweigh the frantic support of the + rabble’s puppet.—This to Palestrina,—the rock is inaccessible!—This + to John di Vico, he may be relied upon, traitor though he be!—This + to Naples; the Colonna will disown the Tribune’s ambassador, if he throw + not up the trust and hasten hither, not a lover but a soldier!—and + may this find Walter de Montreal! Ah, a precious messenger he sent us, but + I will forgive all—all, for a thousand lances.” And as with + trembling hands he twined the silk round his letters, he bade his pages + invite to his board, next day, all the signors who had been implicated + with him on the previous night. + </p> + <p> + The Barons came—far more enraged at the disgrace of pardon, than + grateful for the boon of mercy. Their fears combined with their pride; and + the shouts of the mob, the whine of the cordeliers, still ringing in their + ears, they deemed united resistance the only course left to protect their + lives, and avenge their affront. + </p> + <p> + To them the public pardon of the Tribune seemed only a disguise to private + revenge. All they believed was, that Rienzi did not dare to destroy them + in the face of day; forgetfulness and forgiveness appeared to them as the + means designed to lull their vigilance, while abasing their pride: and the + knowledge of crime detected forbade them all hope of safety. The hand of + their own assassin might be armed against them, or they might be ruined + singly, one by one, as was the common tyrant-craft of that day. Singularly + enough, Luca di Savelli was the most urgent for immediate rebellion. The + fear of death made the coward brave. + </p> + <p> + Unable even to conceive the romantic generosity of the Tribune, the Barons + were yet more alarmed when, the next day, Rienzi, summoning them one by + one to a private audience, presented them with gifts, and bade them forget + the past: excused himself rather than them, and augmented their offices + and honours. + </p> + <p> + In the Quixotism of a heart to which royalty was natural, he thought that + there was no medium course; and that the enmity he would not silence by + death, he could crush by confidence and favours. Such conduct from a born + king to hereditary inferiors might have been successful; but the + generosity of one who has abruptly risen over his lords is but the + ostentation of insult. Rienzi in this, and, perhaps, in forgiveness + itself, committed a fatal error of policy, which the dark sagacity of a + Visconti, or, in later times, of a Borgia, would never have perpetrated. + But it was the error of a bright and a great mind. + </p> + <p> + Nina was seated in the grand saloon of the palace—it was the day of + reception for the Roman ladies. + </p> + <p> + The attendance was so much less numerous than usual that it startled her, + and she thought there was a coldness and restraint in the manner of the + visitors present, which somewhat stung her vanity. + </p> + <p> + “I trust we have not offended the Signora Colonna,” she said to the Lady + of Gianni, Stephen’s son. “She was wont to grace our halls, and we miss + much her stately presence.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam, my Lord’s mother is unwell!” + </p> + <p> + “Is she so? We will send for her more welcome news. Methinks we are + deserted today.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke, she carelessly dropped her handkerchief—the haughty + dame of the Colonna bent not—not a hand stirred; and the Tribunessa + looked for a moment surprised and disconcerted. Her eye roving over the + throng, she perceived several, whom she knew as the wives of Rienzi’s + foes, whispering together with meaning glances, and more than one + malicious sneer at her mortification was apparent. She recovered herself + instantly, and said to the Signora Frangipani, with a smile, “May we be a + partaker of your mirth? You seem to have chanced on some gay thought, + which it were a sin not to share freely.” + </p> + <p> + The lady she addressed coloured slightly, and replied, “We were thinking, + madam, that had the Tribune been present, his vow of knighthood would have + been called into requisition.” + </p> + <p> + “And how, Signora?” + </p> + <p> + “It would have been his pleasing duty, madam, to succour the distressed.” + And the Signora glanced significantly on the kerchief still on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “You designed me, then, this slight, Signoras,” said Nina, rising with + great majesty. “I know not whether your Lords are equally bold to the + Tribune; but this I know, that the Tribune’s wife can in future forgive + your absence. Four centuries ago, a Frangipani might well have stooped to + a Raselli; today, the dame of a Roman Baron might acknowledge a superior + in the wife of the first magistrate of Rome. I compel not your courtesy, + nor seek it.” + </p> + <p> + “We have gone too far,” whispered one of the ladies to her neighbour. + “Perhaps the enterprise may not succeed; and then—” + </p> + <p> + Further remark was cut short by the sudden entrance of the Tribune. He + entered with great haste, and on his brow was that dark frown which none + ever saw unquailing. + </p> + <p> + “How, fair matrons!” said he, looking round the room with a rapid glance, + “ye have not deserted us yet? By the blessed cross, your Lords pay a + compliment to our honour, to leave us such lovely hostages, or else, God’s + truth, they are ungrateful husbands. So, madam,” turning sharp round to + the wife of Gianni Colonna, “your husband is fled to Palestrina; yours, + Signora Orsini, to Marino; yours with him, fair bride of Frangipani,—ye + came hither to—. But ye are sacred even from a word!” + </p> + <p> + The Tribune paused a moment, evidently striving to suppress his emotion, + as he observed the terror he had excited—his eye fell upon Nina, + who, forgetting her previous vexation, regarded him with anxious + amazement. “Yes,” said he to her, “you alone, perhaps, of this fair + assemblage, know not that the nobles whom I lately released from the + headsman’s gripe are a second time forsworn. They have left home in the + dead of the night, and already the Heralds proclaim them traitors and + rebels. Rienzi forgives no more!” + </p> + <p> + “Tribune,” exclaimed the Signora Frangipani, who had more bold blood in + her veins than her whole house, “were I of thine own sex, I would cast the + words, Traitor and Rebel, given to my Lord, in thine own teeth!—Proud + man, the Pontiff soon will fulfil that office!” + </p> + <p> + “Your Lord is blest with a dove, fair one,” said the Tribune, scornfully. + “Ladies, fear not, while Rienzi lives, the wife even of his worst foe is + safe and honoured. The crowd will be here anon; our guards shall attend ye + home in safety, or this palace may be your shelter—for, I warn ye, + that your Lords have rushed into a great peril. And ere many days be past, + the streets of Rome may be as rivers of blood.” + </p> + <p> + “We accept your offer, Tribune,” said the Signora Frangipani, who was + touched, and, in spite of herself, awed by the Tribune’s manner. And as + she spoke, she dropped on one knee, picked up the kerchief, and, + presenting it respectfully to Nina, said, “Madam, forgive me. I alone of + these present respect you more in danger than in pride.” + </p> + <p> + “And I,” returned Nina, as she leaned in graceful confidence on Rienzi’s + arm, “I reply, that if there be danger, the more need of pride.” + </p> + <p> + All that day and all that night rang the great bell of the Capitol. But on + the following daybreak, the assemblage was thin and scattered; there was a + great fear stricken into the hearts of the people, by the flight of the + Barons, and they bitterly and loudly upbraided Rienzi for sparing them to + this opportunity of mischief. That day the rumours continued; the + murmurers for the most part remained within their houses, or assembled in + listless and discontented troops. The next day dawned; the same lethargy + prevailed. The Tribune summoned his Council, (which was a Representative + assembly.) + </p> + <p> + “Shall we go forth as we are,” said he, “with such few as will follow the + Roman standard!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Pandulfo, who, by nature timid, was yet well acquainted with + the disposition of the people, and therefore a sagacious counsellor. “Let + us hold back; let us wait till the rebels commit themselves by some odious + outrage, and then hatred will unite the waverers, and resentment lead + them.” + </p> + <p> + This counsel prevailed; the event proved its wisdom. To give excuse and + dignity to the delay, messengers were sent to Marino, whither the chief + part of the Barons had fled, and which was strongly fortified, demanding + their immediate return. + </p> + <p> + On the day on which the haughty refusal of the insurgents was brought to + Rienzi, came fugitives from all parts of the Campagna. Houses burned—convents + and vineyards pillaged—cattle and horses seized—attested the + warfare practised by the Barons, and animated the drooping Romans, by + showing the mercies they might expect for themselves. That evening, of + their own accord, the Romans rushed into the place of the Capitol:—Rinaldo + Orsini had seized a fortress in the immediate neighbourhood of Rome, and + had set fire to a tower, the flames of which were visible to the city. The + tenant of the tower, a noble lady, old and widowed, was burnt alive. Then + rose the wild clamour—the mighty wrath—the headlong fury. The + hour for action had arrived. (“Ardea terre, arse la Castelluzza e case, e + uomini. Non si schifo di ardere una nobile donna Vedova, veterana, in una + torre. Per tale crudeltade li Romani furo piu irati,” &c.—“Vita + di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. i. cap. 20.) + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0033" id="link2HCH0033"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 5.III. The Battle. + </h2> + <p> + “I have dreamed a dream,” cried Rienzi, leaping from his bed. “The + lion-hearted Boniface, foe and victim of the Colonna, hath appeared to me, + and promised victory. (“In questa notte mi e apparito Santo Bonifacio + Papa,” &c.—“Vita di Cola di Rienzi” cap. 32.) Nina, prepare the + laurel-wreath: this day victory shall be ours!” + </p> + <p> + “O, Rienzi! today?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes! hearken to the bell—hearken to the trumpet. Nay, I hear even + now the impatient hoofs of my white warsteed! One kiss, Nina, ere I arm + for victory,—stay—comfort poor Irene; let me not see her—she + weeps that my foes are akin to her betrothed; I cannot brook her tears; I + watched her in her cradle. Today, I must have no weakness on my soul! + Knaves, twice perjured!—wolves, never to be tamed!—shall I + meet ye at last sword to sword? Away, sweet Nina, to Irene, quick! Adrian + is at Naples, and were he in Rome, her lover is sacred, though fifty times + a Colonna.” + </p> + <p> + With that, the Tribune passed into his wardrobe, where his pages and + gentlemen attended with his armour. “I hear, by our spies,” said he, “that + they will be at our gates ere noon—four thousand foot, seven hundred + horsemen. We will give them a hearty welcome, my masters. How, Angelo + Villani, my pretty page, what do you out of your lady’s service?” + </p> + <p> + “I would fain see a warrior arm for Rome,” said the boy, with a boy’s + energy. + </p> + <p> + “Bless thee, my child; there spoke one of Rome’s true sons!” + </p> + <p> + “And the Signora has promised me that I shall go with her guard to the + gates, to hear the news—” + </p> + <p> + “And report the victory?—thou shalt. But they must not let thee come + within shaft-shot. What! my Pandulfo, thou in mail?” + </p> + <p> + “Rome requires every man,” said the citizen, whose weak nerves were strung + by the contagion of the general enthusiasm. + </p> + <p> + “She doth—and once more I am proud to be a Roman. Now, gentles, the + Dalmaticum: (A robe or mantle of white, borne by Rienzi; at one time + belonging to the sacerdotal office, afterwards an emblem of empire.) I + would that every foe should know Rienzi; and, by the Lord of Hosts, + fighting at the head of the imperial people, I have a right to the + imperial robe. Are the friars prepared? Our march to the gates shall be + preceded by a solemn hymn—so fought our sires.” + </p> + <p> + “Tribune, John di Vico is arrived with a hundred horse to support the Good + Estate.” + </p> + <p> + “He hath!—The Lord has delivered us then of a foe, and given our + dungeons a traitor!—Bring hither yon casket, Angelo.—So—Hark + thee! Pandulfo, read this letter.” + </p> + <p> + The citizens read, with surprise and consternation, the answer of the wily + Prefect to the Colonna’s epistle. + </p> + <p> + “He promises the Baron to desert to him in the battle, with the Prefect’s + banner,” said Pandulfo. “What is to be done?” + </p> + <p> + “What!—take my signet—here—see him lodged forthwith in + the prison of the Capitol. Bid his train leave Rome, and if found acting + with the Barons, warn them that their Lord dies. Go—see to it + without a moment’s delay. Meanwhile, to the chapel—we will hear + mass.” + </p> + <p> + Within an hour the Roman army—vast, miscellaneous—old men and + boys, mingled with the vigour of life, were on their march to the Gate of + San Lorenzo; of their number, which amounted to twenty thousand foot, not + one-sixth could be deemed men-at-arms; but the cavalry were well equipped, + and consisted of the lesser Barons and the more opulent citizens. At the + head of these rode the Tribune in complete armour, and wearing on his + casque a wreath of oak and olive leaves, wrought in silver. Before him + waved the great gonfalon of Rome, while in front of this multitudinous + array marched a procession of monks, of the order of St. Francis, (for the + ecclesiastical body of Rome went chiefly with the popular spirit, and its + enthusiastic leader,)—slowly chanting the following hymn, which was + made inexpressibly startling and imposing at the close of each stanza, by + the clash of arms, the blast of trumpets, and the deep roll of the drum; + which formed, as it were, a martial chorus to the song:— + </p> + <p> + Roman War-song. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1. + + March, march for your hearths and your altars! + Cursed to all time be the dastard that falters, + Never on earth may his sins be forgiven + Death on his soul, shut the portals of heaven! + A curse on his heart, and a curse on his brain!— + Who strikes not for Rome, shall to Rome be her Cain! + Breeze fill our banners, sun gild our spears, + Spirito Santo, Cavaliers! + + (Rienzi’s word of battle was “Spirito Santo Cavaliere”, i.e. + Cavalier in the singular number. The plural number has been + employed in the text, as somewhat more animated, and + therefore better adapted to the kind of poetry into the + service of which the watchword has been pressed.) + + Blow, trumpets, blow, + Blow, trumpets, blow, + Gaily to glory we come; + Like a king in his pomp, + To the blast of the tromp, + And the roar of the mighty drum! + Breeze fill our banners, sun gild our spears, + Spirito Santo, Cavaliers! + + 2. + + March, march for your Freedom and Laws! + Earth is your witness—all Earth’s is your cause! + Seraph and saint from their glory shall heed ye, + The angel that smote the Assyrian shall lead ye; + To the Christ of the Cross man is never so holy + As in braving the proud in defence of the lowly! + Breeze fill our banners, sun gild our spears, + Spirito Santo, Cavaliers! + Blow, trumpets, blow, + Blow, trumpets, blow, + Gaily to glory we come; + Like a king in his pomp, + To the blast of the tromp, + And the roar of the mighty drum! + Breeze fill our banners, sun gild our spears, + Spirito Santo, Cavaliers! + + 3. + + March, march! ye are sons of the Roman, + The sound of whose step was as fate to the foeman! + Whose realm, save the air and the wave, had no wall, + As he strode through the world like a lord in his hall; + Though your fame hath sunk down to the night of the grave, + It shall rise from the field like the sun from the wave. + Breeze fill our banners, sun gild our spears, + Spirito Santo, Cavaliers! + Blow, trumpets, blow, + Blow, trumpets, blow, + Gaily to glory we come; + Like a king in his pomp, + To the blast of the tromp, + And the roar of the mighty drum! + Breeze fill our banners, sun gild our spears, + Spirito Santo, Cavaliers! +</pre> + <p> + In this order they reached the wide waste that ruin and devastation left + within the gates, and, marshalled in long lines on either side, extending + far down the vistaed streets, and leaving a broad space in the centre, + awaited the order of their leader. + </p> + <p> + “Throw open the gates, and admit the foe!” cried Rienzi, with a loud + voice; as the trumpets of the Barons, announced their approach. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the insurgent Patricians, who had marched that morning from a + place called the Monument, four miles distant, came gallantly and boldly + on. + </p> + <p> + With old Stephen, whose great height, gaunt frame, and lordly air, shewed + well in his gorgeous mail, rode his sons,—the Frangipani and the + Savelli, and Giordano Orsini, brother to Rinaldo. + </p> + <p> + “Today the tyrant shall perish!” said the proud Baron; “and the flag of + the Colonna shall wave from the Capitol.” + </p> + <p> + “The flag of the Bear,” said Giordano Orsini, angrily.—“The victory + will not be yours alone, my Lord!” + </p> + <p> + “Our house ever took precedence in Rome,” replied the Colonna, haughtily. + </p> + <p> + “Never, while one stone of the palaces of the Orsini stands upon another.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said Luca di Savelli; “are ye dividing the skin while the lion + lives? We shall have fierce work today.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” said the old Colonna; “John di Vico will turn, with his Romans, + at the first onset, and some of the malcontents within have promised to + open the gates.—How, knave?” as a scout rode up breathless to the + Baron. “What tidings?” + </p> + <p> + “The gates are opened—not a spear gleams from the walls!” + </p> + <p> + “Did I not tell ye, Lords?” said the Colonna, turning round triumphantly. + “Methinks we shall win Rome without a single blow.—Grandson, where + now are thy silly forebodings?” This was said to Pietro, one of his + grandsons—the first-born of Gianni—a comely youth, not two + weeks wedded, who made no reply. “My little Pietro here,” continued the + Baron, speaking to his comrades, “is so new a bridegroom, that last night + he dreamed of his bride; and deems it, poor lad, a portent.” + </p> + <p> + “She was in deep mourning, and glided from my arms, uttering, ‘Woe, woe, + to the Colonna!” said the young man, solemnly. + </p> + <p> + “I have lived nearly ninety years,” replied the old man, “and I may have + dreamed, therefore, some forty thousand dreams; of which, two came true, + and the rest were false. Judge, then, what chances are in favour of the + science!” + </p> + <p> + Thus conversing, they approached within bow-shot of the gates, which were + still open. All was silent as death. The army, which was composed chiefly + of foreign mercenaries, halted in deliberation—when, lo!—a + torch was suddenly cast on high over the walls; it gleamed a moment—and + then hissed in the miry pool below. + </p> + <p> + “It is the signal of our friends within, as agreed on,” cried old Colonna. + “Pietro, advance with your company!” The young nobleman closed his visor, + put himself at the head of the band under his command; and, with his lance + in his rest, rode in a half gallop to the gates. The morning had been + clouded and overcast, and the sun, appearing only at intervals, now broke + out in a bright stream of light—as it glittered on the waving plume + and shining mail of the young horseman, disappearing under the gloomy + arch, several paces in advance of his troop. On swept his followers—forward + went the cavalry headed by Gianni Colonna, Pietro’s father.—there + was a minute’s silence, broken only by the clatter of the arms, and tramp + of hoofs,—when from within the walls rose the abrupt cry—“Rome, + the Tribune, and the People! Spirito Santo, Cavaliers!” The main body + halted aghast. Suddenly Gianni Colonna was seen flying backward from the + gate at full speed. + </p> + <p> + “My son, my son!” he cried, “they have murdered him;”—he halted + abrupt and irresolute, then adding, “But I will avenge!” wheeled round, + and spurred again through the arch,—when a huge machine of iron, + shaped as a portcullis, suddenly descended upon the unhappy father, and + crushed man and horse to the ground—one blent, mangled, bloody mass. + </p> + <p> + The old Colonna saw, and scarce believed his eyes; and ere his troop + recovered its stupor, the machine rose, and over the corpse dashed the + Popular Armament. Thousands upon thousands, they came on; a wild, + clamorous, roaring stream. They poured on all sides upon their enemies, + who drawn up in steady discipline, and clad in complete mail, received and + broke their charge. + </p> + <p> + “Revenge, and the Colonna!”—“The Bear and the Orsini!”—“Charity + and the Frangipani!” (Who had taken their motto from some fabled ancestor + who had broke bread with a beggar in a time of famine.) “Strike for the + Snake (The Lion was, however, the animal usually arrogated by the heraldic + vanity of the Savelli.) and the Savelli!” were then heard on high, mingled + with the German and hoarse shout, “Full purses, and the Three Kings of + Cologne.” The Romans, rather ferocious than disciplined, fell butchered in + crowds round the ranks of the mercenaries: but as one fell, another + succeeded; and still burst with undiminished fervour the countercry of + “Rome, the Tribune, and the People!—Spirito Santo, Cavaliers!” + Exposed to every shaft and every sword by his emblematic diadem and his + imperial robe, the fierce Rienzi led on each assault, wielding an enormous + battle-axe, for the use of which the Italians were celebrated, and which + he regarded as a national weapon. Inspired by every darker and sterner + instinct of his nature, his blood heated, his passions aroused, fighting + as a citizen for liberty, as a monarch for his crown, his daring seemed to + the astonished foe as that of one frantic; his preservation that of one + inspired: now here, now there; wherever flagged his own, or failed the + opposing, force, glittered his white robe, and rose his bloody battle-axe; + but his fury seemed rather directed against the chiefs than the herd; and + still where his charger wheeled was heard his voice, “Where is a Colonna?”—“Defiance + to the Orsini!”—“Spirito Santo, Cavaliers!” Three times was the + sally led from the gate; three times were the Romans beaten back; and on + the third, the gonfalon, borne before the Tribune, was cloven to the + ground. Then, for the first time, he seemed amazed and alarmed, and, + raising his eyes to heaven, he exclaimed, “O Lord, hast thou then forsaken + me?” With that, taking heart, once more he waved his arm, and again led + forward his wild array. + </p> + <p> + At eve the battle ceased. Of the Barons who had been the main object of + the Tribune’s assault, the pride and boast was broken. Of the princely + line of the Colonna, three lay dead. Giordano Orsini was mortally wounded; + the fierce Rinaldo had not shared the conflict. Of the Frangipani, the + haughtiest signors were no more; and Luca, the dastard head of the + Savelli, had long since saved himself by flight. On the other hand, the + slaughter of the citizens had been prodigious;—the ground was + swamped with blood—and over heaps of slain, (steeds and riders,) the + twilight star beheld Rienzi and the Romans returning victors from the + pursuit. Shouts of rejoicing followed the Tribune’s panting steed through + the arch; and just as he entered the space within, crowds of those whose + infirmities, sex, or years, had not allowed them to share the conflict,—women, + and children, and drivelling age, mingled with the bare feet and dark + robes of monks and friars, apprised of the victory, were prepared to hail + his triumph. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi reined his steed by the corpse of the boy Colonna, which lay half + immersed in a pool of water, and close by it, removed from the arch where + he had fallen, lay that of Gianni Colonna,—(that Gianni Colonna + whose spear had dismissed his brother’s gentle spirit.) He glanced over + the slain, as the melancholy Hesperus played upon the bloody pool and the + gory corselet, with a breast heaved with many emotions; and turning, he + saw the young Angelo, who, with some of Nina’s guard, had repaired to the + spot, and had now approached the Tribune. + </p> + <p> + “Child,” said Rienzi, pointing to the dead, “blessed art thou who hast no + blood of kindred to avenge!—to him who hath, sooner or later comes + the hour; and an awful hour it is!” + </p> + <p> + The words sank deep into Angelo’s heart, and in after life became words of + fate to the speaker and the listener. + </p> + <p> + Ere Rienzi had well recovered himself, and as were heard around him the + shrieks of the widows and mothers of the slain—the groans of the + dying—the exhortations of the friars—mingled with sounds of + joy and triumph—a cry was raised by the women and stragglers on the + battle-field without, of “The foe!—the foe!” + </p> + <p> + “To your swords,” cried the Tribune; “fall back in order;—yet they + cannot be so bold!” + </p> + <p> + The tramp of horses, the blast of a trumpet, were heard; and presently, at + full speed, some thirty horsemen dashed through the gate. + </p> + <p> + “Your bows,” exclaimed the Tribune, advancing;—“yet hold—the + leader is unarmed—it is our own banner. By our Lady, it is our + ambassador of Naples, the Lord Adrian di Castello!” + </p> + <p> + Panting—breathless—covered with dust—Adrian halted at + the pool red with the blood of his kindred—and their pale faces, set + in death, glared upon him. + </p> + <p> + “Too late—alas! alas!—dread fate!—unhappy Rome!” + </p> + <p> + “They fell into the pit they themselves had digged,” said the Tribune, in + a firm but hollow voice.—“Noble Adrian, would thy counsels had + prevented this!” + </p> + <p> + “Away, proud man—away!” said Adrian, impatiently waving his hand,—“thou + shouldst protect the lives of Romans, and—oh, Gianni!—Pietro!—could + not birth, renown, and thy green years, poor boy—could not these + save ye?” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon him, my friends,” said the Tribune to the crowd,—“his grief + is natural, and he knows not all their guilt.—Back, I pray ye—leave + him to our ministering.” + </p> + <p> + It might have fared ill for Adrian, but for the Tribune’s brief speech. + And as the young Lord, dismounting, now bent over his kinsmen—the + Tribune also surrendering his charger to his squires, approached, and, + despite Adrian’s reluctance and aversion, drew him aside,— + </p> + <p> + “Young friend,” said he, mournfully, “my heart bleeds for you; yet bethink + thee, the wrath of the crowd is fresh upon them: be prudent.” + </p> + <p> + “Prudent!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush—by my honour, these men were not worthy of your name. Twice + perjured—once assassins—twice rebels—listen to me!” + </p> + <p> + “Tribune, I ask no other construing of what I see—they might have + died justly, or been butchered foully. But there is no peace between the + executioner of my race and me.” + </p> + <p> + “Will you, too, be forsworn? Thine oath!—Come, come, I hear not + these words. Be composed—retire—and if, three days hence, you + impute any other blame to me than that of unwise lenity, I absolve you + from your oath, and you are free to be my foe. The crowd gape and gaze + upon us—a minute more, and I may not avail to save you.” + </p> + <p> + The feelings of the young patrician were such as utterly baffle + description. He had never been much amongst his house, nor ever received + more than common courtesy at their hands. But lineage is lineage still! + And there, in the fatal hazard of war, lay the tree and sapling, the prime + and hope of his race. He felt there was no answer to the Tribune, the very + place of their death proved they had fallen in an assault upon their + countrymen. He sympathised not with their cause, but their fate. And rage, + revenge alike forbidden—his heart was the more softened to the shock + and paralysis of grief. He did not therefore speak, but continued to gaze + upon the dead, while large and unheeded tears flowed down his cheeks, and + his attitude of dejection and sorrow was so moving, that the crowd, at + first indignant, now felt for his affliction. At length his mind seemed + made up. He turned to Rienzi, and said, falteringly, “Tribune, I blame you + not, nor accuse. If you have been rash in this, God will have blood for + blood. I wage no war with you—you say right, my oath prevents me; + and if you govern well, I can still remember that I am Roman. But—but—look + to that bleeding clay—we meet no more!—your sister—God + be with her!—between her and me flows a dark gulf!” The young noble + paused some moments, choked by his emotions, and then continued, “These + papers discharge me of my mission. Standard-bearers, lay down the banner + of the Republic. Tribune, speak not—I would be calm—calm. And + so farewell to Rome.” With a hurried glance towards the dead, he sprung + upon his steed, and, followed by his train, vanished through the arch. + </p> + <p> + The Tribune had not attempted to detain him—had not interrupted him. + He felt that the young noble had thought—acted as became him best. + He followed him with his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “And thus,” said he gloomily, “Fate plucks from me my noblest friend and + my justest counsellor—better man Rome never lost!” + </p> + <p> + Such is the eternal doom of disordered states. The mediator between rank + and rank,—the kindly noble—the dispassionate patriot—the + first to act—the most hailed in action—darkly vanishes from + the scene. Fiercer and more unscrupulous spirits alone stalk the field; + and no neutral and harmonizing link remains between hate and hate,—until + exhaustion, sick with horrors, succeeds to frenzy, and despotism is + welcomed as repose! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0034" id="link2HCH0034"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 5.IV. The Hollowness of the Base. + </h2> + <p> + The rapid and busy march of state events has led us long away from the + sister of the Tribune and the betrothed of Adrian. And the sweet thoughts + and gentle day-dreams of that fair and enamoured girl, however full to her + of an interest beyond all the storms and perils of ambition, are not so + readily adapted to narration:—their soft monotony a few words can + paint. They knew but one image, they tended to but one prospect. Shrinking + from the glare of her brother’s court, and eclipsed, when she forced + herself to appear, by the more matured and dazzling beauty, and + all-commanding presence, of Nina,—to her the pomp and crowd seemed + an unreal pageant, from which she retired to the truth of life,—the + hopes and musings of her own heart. Poor girl! with all the soft and + tender nature of her dead brother, and none of the stern genius and the + prodigal ambition,—the eye-fatiguing ostentation and fervour of the + living—she was but ill-fitted for the unquiet but splendid region to + which she was thus suddenly transferred. + </p> + <p> + With all her affection for Rienzi, she could not conquer a certain fear + which, conjoined with the difference of sex and age, forbade her to be + communicative with him upon the subject most upon her heart. + </p> + <p> + As the absence of Adrian at the Neapolitan Court passed the anticipated + date, (for at no Court then, with a throne fiercely disputed, did the + Tribune require a nobler or more intelligent representative,—and + intrigues and counter-intrigues delayed his departure from week to week), + she grew uneasy and alarmed. Like many, themselves unseen, inactive, the + spectators of the scene, she saw involuntarily further into the time than + the deeper intellect either of the Tribune or Nina; and the dangerous + discontent of the nobles was visible and audible to her in looks and + whispers, which reached not acuter or more suspected ears and eyes. + Anxiously, restlessly, did she long for the return of Adrian, not from + selfish motives alone, but from well-founded apprehensions for her + brother. With Adrian di Castello, alike a noble and a patriot, each party + had found a mediator, and his presence grew daily more needed, till at + length the conspiracy of the Barons had broken out. From that hour she + scarcely dared to hope; her calm sense, unblinded by the high-wrought + genius which, as too often happens, made the Tribune see harsh realities + through a false and brilliant light, perceived that the Rubicon was + passed; and through all the events that followed she could behold but two + images—danger to her brother, separation from her betrothed. + </p> + <p> + With Nina alone could her full heart confer; for Nina, with all the + differences of character, was a woman who loved. And this united them. In + the earlier power of Rienzi, many of their happiest hours had been passed + together, remote from the gaudy crowd, alone and unrestrained, in the + summer nights, on the moonlit balconies, in that interchange of thought, + sympathy, and consolation, which to two impassioned and guileless women + makes the most interesting occupation and the most effectual solace. But + of late, this intercourse had been much marred. From the morning in which + the Barons had received their pardon, to that on which they had marched on + Rome, had been one succession of fierce excitements. Every face Irene saw + was clouded and overcast—all gaiety was suspended—bustling and + anxious councillors, or armed soldiers, had for days been the only + visitors of the palace. Rienzi had been seen but for short moments: his + brow wrapt in care. Nina had been more fond, more caressing than ever, but + in those caresses there seemed a mournful and ominous compassion. The + attempts at comfort and hope were succeeded by a sickly smile and broken + words; and Irene was prepared, by the presentiments of her own heart, for + the stroke that fell—victory was to her brother—his foe was + crushed—Rome was free—but the lofty house of the Colonnas had + lost its stateliest props, and Adrian was gone for ever!—She did not + blame him; she could not blame her brother; each had acted as became his + several station. She was the poor sacrifice of events and fate—the + Iphigenia to the Winds which were to bear the bark of Rome to the haven, + or, it might be, to whelm it in the abyss. She was stunned by the blow; + she did not even weep or complain; she bowed to the storm that swept over + her, and it passed. For two days she neither took food nor rest; she shut + herself up; she asked only the boon of solitude: but on the third morning + she recovered as by a miracle, for on the third morning, the following + letter was left at the palace:— + </p> + <p> + “Irene,—Ere this you have learned my deep cause of grief; you feel + that to a Colonna Rome can no longer be a home, nor Rome’s Tribune be a + brother. While I write these words honour but feebly supports me: all the + hopes I had formed, all the prospects I had pictured, all the love I bore + and bear thee, rush upon my heart, and I can only feel that I am wretched. + Irene, Irene, your sweet face rises before me, and in those beloved eyes I + read that I am forgiven,—I am understood; and dearly as I know thou + lovest me, thou wouldst rather I were lost to thee, rather I were in the + grave with my kinsmen, than know I lived the reproach of my order, the + recreant of my name. Ah! why was I a Colonna? why did Fortune make me + noble, and nature and circumstance attach me to the people? I am barred + alike from love and from revenge; all my revenge falls upon thee and me. + Adored! we are perhaps separated for ever; but, by all the happiness I + have known by thy side—by all the rapture of which I dreamed—by + that delicious hour which first gave thee to my gaze, when I watched the + soft soul returning to thine eyes and lip—by thy first blushing + confession of love—by our first kiss—by our last farewell—I + swear to be faithful to thee to the last. None other shall ever chase + thine image from my heart. And now, when Hope seems over, Faith becomes + doubly sacred; and thou, my beautiful, wilt thou not remember me? wilt + thou not feel as if we were the betrothed of Heaven? In the legends of the + North we are told of the knight who, returning from the Holy Land, found + his mistress (believing his death) the bride of Heaven, and he built a + hermitage by the convent where she dwelt; and, though they never saw each + other more, their souls were faithful unto death. Even so, Irene, be we to + each other—dead to all else—betrothed in memory—to be + wedded above! And yet, yet ere I close, one hope dawns upon me. Thy + brother’s career, bright and lofty, may be but as a falling star; should + darkness swallow it, should his power cease, should his throne be broken, + and Rome know no more her Tribune; shouldst thou no longer have a brother + in the judge and destroyer of my house; shouldst thou be stricken from + pomp and state; shouldst thou be friendless, kindredless, alone—then, + without a stain on mine honour, without the shame and odium of receiving + power and happiness from hands yet red with the blood of my race, I may + claim thee as my own. Honour ceases to command when thou ceasest to be + great. I dare not too fondly indulge this dream, perchance it is a sin in + both. But it must be whispered, that thou mayest know all thy Adrian, all + his weakness and his strength. My own loved, my ever loved, loved more + fondly now when loved despairingly, farewell! May angels heal thy sorrow, + and guard me from sin, that hereafter at least we may meet again!” + </p> + <p> + “He loves me—he loves me still!” said the maiden, weeping at last; + “and I am blest once more!” + </p> + <p> + With that letter pressed to her heart she recovered outwardly from the + depth of her affliction; she met her brother with a smile, and Nina with + embraces; and if still she pined and sorrowed, it was in that + “concealment” which is the “worm i’ the bud.” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, after the first flush of victory, lamentation succeeded to joy + in Rome; so great had been the slaughter that the private grief was large + enough to swallow up all public triumph; and many of the mourners blamed + even their defender for the swords of the assailant, “Roma fu + terribilmente vedovata.” (“Rome was terribly widowed.”) The numerous + funerals deeply affected the Tribune; and, in proportion to his sympathy + with his people, grew his stern indignation against the Barons. Like all + men whose religion is intense, passionate, and zealous, the Tribune had + little toleration for those crimes which went to the root of religion. + Perjury was to him the most base and inexpiable of offences, and the slain + Barons had been twice perjured: in the bitterness of his wrath he forbade + their families for some days to lament over their remains; and it was only + in private and in secret that he permitted them to be interred in their + ancestral vaults: an excess of vengeance which sullied his laurels, but + which was scarcely inconsistent with the stern patriotism of his + character. Impatient to finish what he had begun, anxious to march at once + to Marino, where the insurgents collected their shattered force, he + summoned his Council, and represented the certainty of victory, and its + result in the complete restoration of peace. But pay was due to the + soldiery; they already murmured; the treasury was emptied, it was + necessary to fill it by raising a new tax. + </p> + <p> + Among the councillors were some whose families had suffered grievously in + the battle—they lent a lukewarm attention to propositions of + continued strife. Others, among whom was Pandulfo, timid but well-meaning, + aware that grief and terror even of their own triumph had produced + reaction amongst the people, declared that they would not venture to + propose a new tax. A third party, headed by Baroncelli—a demagogue + whose ambition was without principle—but who, by pandering to the + worst passions of the populace, by a sturdy coarseness of nature with + which they sympathised—and by that affectation of advancing what we + now term the “movement,” which often gives to the fiercest fool an + advantage over the most prudent statesman, had quietly acquired a great + influence with the lower ranks—offered a more bold opposition. They + dared even to blame the proud Tribune for the gorgeous extravagance they + had themselves been the first to recommend—and half insinuated + sinister and treacherous motives in his acquittal of the Barons from the + accusation of Rodolf. In the very Parliament which the Tribune had revived + and remodelled for the support of freedom—freedom was abandoned. His + fiery eloquence met with a gloomy silence, and finally, the votes were + against his propositions for the new tax and the march to Marino. Rienzi + broke up the Council in haste and disorder. As he left the hall, a letter + was put into his hands; he read it, and remained for some moments as one + thunderstruck. He then summoned the Captain of his Guards, and ordered a + band of fifty horsemen to be prepared for his commands; he repaired to + Nina’s apartment, he found her alone, and stood for some moments gazing + upon her so intently that she was awed and chilled from all attempt at + speech. At length he said, abruptly— + </p> + <p> + “We must part.” + </p> + <p> + “Part!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Nina—your guard is preparing; you have relations, I have + friends, at Florence. Florence must be your home.” + </p> + <p> + “Cola,—” + </p> + <p> + “Look not on me thus.—in power, in state, in safety—you were + my ornament and counsellor. Now you but embarrass me. And—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Cola, speak not thus! What hath chanced? Be not so cold—frown + not—turn not away! Am I not something more to thee, than the partner + of joyous hours—the minion of love? Am I not thy wife, Cola—not + thy leman?” + </p> + <p> + “Too dear—too dear to me,” muttered the Tribune; “with thee by my + side I shall be but half a Roman. Nina, the base slaves whom I myself made + free desert me.—Now, in the very hour in which I might sweep away + for ever all obstacles to the regeneration of Rome—now, when one + conquest points the path to complete success—now when the land is + visible, my fortune suddenly leaves me in the midst of the seas! There is + greater danger now than in the rage of the Barons—the Barons are + fled; it is the People who are becoming traitors to Rome and to me.” + </p> + <p> + “And wouldst thou have me traitor also! No, Cola; in death itself Nina + shall be beside thee. Life and honour are reflected but from thee, and the + stroke that slays the substance, shall destroy the humble shadow. I will + not part from thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Nina,” said the Tribune, contending with strong and convulsive emotion—“it + may be literally of death that you speak.—Go! leave one who can no + longer protect you or Rome!” + </p> + <p> + “Never—Never.” + </p> + <p> + “You are resolved?” + </p> + <p> + “I am.” + </p> + <p> + “Be it so,” said the Tribune, with deep sadness in his tone. “Arm thyself + for the worst.” + </p> + <p> + “There is no worst with thee, Cola!” + </p> + <p> + “Come to my arms, brave woman; thy words rebuke my weakness. But my + sister!—if I fall, you, Nina, will not survive—your beauty a + prey to the most lustful heart and the strongest hand. We will have the + same tomb on the wrecks of Roman liberty. But Irene is of weaker mould; + poor child, I have robbed her of a lover, and now—” + </p> + <p> + “You are right; let Irene go. And in truth we may well disguise from her + the real cause of her departure. Change of scene were best for her grief; + and under all circumstances would seem decorum to the curious. I will see + and prepare her.” + </p> + <p> + “Do so, sweetheart. I would gladly be a moment alone with thought. But + remember, she must part today—our sands run low.” + </p> + <p> + As the door closed on Nina, the Tribune took out the letter and again read + it deliberately. “So the Pope’s Legate left Sienna:—prayed that + Republic to withdraw its auxiliary troops from Rome—proclaimed me a + rebel and a heretic;—thence repaired to Marino;—now in council + with the Barons. Why, have my dreams belied me, then—false as the + waking things that flatter and betray by day? In such peril will the + people forsake me and themselves? Army of saints and martyrs, shades of + heroes and patriots, have ye abandoned for ever your ancient home? No, no, + I was not raised to perish thus; I will defeat them yet—and leave my + name a legacy to Rome; a warning to the oppressor—an example to the + free!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0035" id="link2HCH0035"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 5.V. The Rottenness of the Edifice. + </h2> + <p> + The kindly skill of Nina induced Irene to believe that it was but the + tender consideration of her brother to change a scene embittered by her + own thoughts, and in which the notoriety of her engagement with Adrian + exposed her to all that could mortify and embarrass, that led to the + proposition of her visit to Florence. Its suddenness was ascribed to the + occasion of an unexpected mission to Florence, (for a loan of arms and + money,) which thus gave her a safe and honoured escort.—Passively + she submitted to what she herself deemed a relief; and it was agreed that + she should for a while be the guest of a relation of Nina’s, who was the + abbess of one of the wealthiest of the Florentine convents: the idea of + monastic seclusion was welcome to the bruised heart and wearied spirit. + </p> + <p> + But though not apprised of the immediate peril of Rienzi, it was with deep + sadness and gloomy forebodings that she returned his embrace and parting + blessing; and when at length alone in her litter, and beyond the gates of + Rome, she repented a departure to which the chance of danger gave the + appearance of desertion. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, as the declining day closed around the litter and its troop, + more turbulent actors in the drama demand our audience. The traders and + artisans of Rome at that time, and especially during the popular + government of Rienzi, held weekly meetings in each of the thirteen + quarters of the city. And in the most democratic of these, Cecco del + Vecchio was an oracle and leader. It was at that assembly, over which the + smith presided, that the murmurs that preceded the earthquake were heard. + </p> + <p> + “So,” cried one of the company—Luigi, the goodly butcher,—“they + say he wanted to put a new tax on us; and that is the reason he broke up + the Council today, because, good men, they were honest, and had bowels for + the people: it is a shame and a sin that the treasury should be empty.” + </p> + <p> + “I told him,” said the smith, “to beware how he taxed the people. Poor men + won’t be taxed. But as he does not follow my advice, he must take the + consequence—the horse runs from one hand, the halter remains in the + other.” + </p> + <p> + “Take your advice, Cecco! I warrant me his stomach is too high for that + now. Why he is grown as proud as a pope.” + </p> + <p> + “For all that, he is a great man,” said one of the party. “He gave us laws—he + rid the Campagna of robbers—filled the streets with merchants, and + the shops with wares—defeated the boldest lords and fiercest + soldiery of Italy—” + </p> + <p> + “And now wants to tax the people!—that’s all the thanks we get for + helping him,” said the grumbling Cecco. “What would he have been without + us?—we that make, can unmake.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” continued the advocate, seeing that he had his supporters—“but + then he taxes us for our own liberties.” + </p> + <p> + “Who strikes at them now?” asked the butcher. + </p> + <p> + “Why the Barons are daily mustering new strength at Marino.” + </p> + <p> + “Marino is not Rome,” said Luigi, the butcher. “Let’s wait till they come + to our gates again—we know how to receive them. Though, for the + matter of that, I think we have had enough fighting—my two poor + brothers had each a stab too much for them. Why won’t the Tribune, if he + be a great man, let us have peace? All we want now is quiet.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah!” said a seller of horse-harness. “Let him make it up with the Barons. + They were good customers after all.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said a merry-looking fellow, who had been a gravedigger in + bad times, and had now opened a stall of wares for the living, “I could + forgive him all, but bathing in the holy vase of porphyry.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that was a bad job,” said several, shaking their heads. + </p> + <p> + “And the knighthood was but a silly show, an’ it were not for the wine + from the horse’s nostrils—that had some sense in it.” + </p> + <p> + “My masters,” said Cecco, “the folly was in not beheading the Barons when + he had them all in the net; and so Messere Baroncelli says. (Ah, + Baroncelli is an honest man, and follows no half measures!) It was a sort + of treason to the people not to do so. Why, but for that, we should never + have lost so many tall fellows by the gate of San Lorenzo.” + </p> + <p> + “True, true, it was a shame; some say the Barons bought him.” + </p> + <p> + “And then,” said another, “those poor Lords Colonna—boy and man—they + were the best of the family, save the Castello. I vow I pitied them.” + </p> + <p> + “But to the point,” said one of the crowd, the richest of the set; “the + tax is the thing.—The ingratitude to tax us.—Let him dare to + do it!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, he will not dare, for I hear that the Pope’s bristles are up at last; + so he will only have us to depend upon!” + </p> + <p> + The door was thrown open—a man rushed in open-mouthed— + </p> + <p> + “Masters, masters, the Pope’s legate has arrived at Rome, and sent for the + Tribune, who has just left his presence.” + </p> + <p> + Ere his auditors had recovered their surprise, the sound of trumpets made + them rush forth; they saw Rienzi sweep by with his usual cavalcade, and in + his proud array. The twilight was advancing, and torch-bearers preceded + his way. Upon his countenance was deep calm but it was not the calm of + contentment. He passed on, and the street was again desolate. Meanwhile + Rienzi reached the Capitol in silence, and mounted to the apartments of + the palace, where Nina, pale and breathless, awaited his return. + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, thou smilest! No—it is that dread smile, worse than + frowns. Speak, beloved, speak! What said the Cardinal?” + </p> + <p> + “Little thou wilt love to hear. He spoke at first high and solemnly, about + the crime of declaring the Romans free; next about the treason of + asserting that the election of the King of Rome was in the hands of the + Romans.” + </p> + <p> + “Well—thy answer.” + </p> + <p> + “That which became Rome’s Tribune: I re-asserted each right, and proved + it. The Cardinal passed to other charges.” + </p> + <p> + “What?” + </p> + <p> + “The blood of the Barons by San Lorenzo—blood only shed in our own + defence against perjured assailants; this is in reality the main crime. + The Colonna have the Pope’s ear. Furthermore, the sacrilege—yes, the + sacrilege (come laugh, Nina, laugh!) of bathing in a vase of porphyry used + by Constantine while yet a heathen.” + </p> + <p> + “Can it be! What saidst thou?” + </p> + <p> + “I laughed. ‘Cardinal,’ quoth I, ‘what was not too good for a heathen is + not too good for a Christian Catholic!’ And verily the sour Frenchman + looked as if I had smote him on the hip. When he had done, I asked him, in + my turn, ‘Is it alleged against me that I have wronged one man in my + judgment-court?’—Silence. ‘Is it said that I have broken one law of + the state?’—Silence. ‘Is it even whispered that trade does not + flourish—that life is not safe—that abroad or at home the + Roman name is not honoured, to that point which no former rule can + parallel?’—Silence. ‘Then,’ said I, ‘Lord Cardinal, I demand thy + thanks, not thy censure.’ The Frenchman looked, and looked, and trembled, + and shrunk, and then out he spake. ‘I have but one mission to fulfil, on + the part of the Pontiff—resign at once thy Tribuneship, or the + Church inflicts upon thee its solemn curse.’” + </p> + <p> + “How—how?” said Nina, turning very pale; “what is it that awaits + thee?” + </p> + <p> + “Excommunication!” + </p> + <p> + This awful sentence, by which the spiritual arm had so often stricken down + the fiercest foe, came to Nina’s ear as a knell. She covered her face with + her hands. Rienzi paced the room with rapid strides. “The curse!” he + muttered; “the Church’s curse—for me—for ME!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Cola! didst thou not seek to pacify this stern—” + </p> + <p> + “Pacify! Death and dishonour! Pacify! ‘Cardinal,’ I said, and I felt his + soul shrivel at my gaze, ‘my power I received from the people—to the + people alone I render it. For my soul, man’s word cannot scathe it. Thou, + haughty priest, thou thyself art the accursed, if, puppet and tool of low + cabals and exiled tyrants, thou breathest but a breath in the name of the + Lord of Justice, for the cause of the oppressor, and against the rights of + the oppressed.’ With that I left him, and now—” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, now—now what will happen? Excommunication! In the metropolis of + the Church, too—the superstition of the people! Oh, Cola!” + </p> + <p> + “If,” muttered Rienzi, “my conscience condemned me of one crime—if I + had stained my hands in one just man’s blood—if I had broken one law + I myself had framed—if I had taken bribes, or wronged the poor, or + scorned the orphan, or shut my heart to the widow—then, then—but + no! Lord, thou wilt not desert me!” + </p> + <p> + “But man may!” thought Nina mournfully, as she perceived that one of + Rienzi’s dark fits of fanatical and mystical revery was growing over him—fits + which he suffered no living eye, not even Nina’s, to witness when they + gathered to their height. And now, indeed, after a short interval of + muttered soliloquy, in which his face worked so that the veins on his + temples swelled like cords, he abruptly left the room, and sought the + private oratory connected with his closet. Over the emotions there + indulged let us draw the veil. Who shall describe those awful and + mysterious moments, when man, with all his fiery passions, turbulent + thoughts, wild hopes, and despondent fears, demands the solitary audience + of his Maker? + </p> + <p> + It was long after this conference with Nina, and the midnight bell had + long tolled, when Rienzi stood alone, upon one of the balconies of the + palace, to cool, in the starry air, the fever that yet lingered on his + exhausted frame. The night was exceedingly calm, the air clear, but chill, + for it was now December. He gazed intently upon those solemn orbs to which + our wild credulity has referred the prophecies of our doom. + </p> + <p> + “Vain science!” thought the Tribune, “and gloomy fantasy, that man’s fate + is pre-ordained—irrevocable—unchangeable, from the moment of + his birth! Yet, were the dream not baseless, fain would I know which of + yon stately lights is my natal star,—which images—which + reflects—my career in life, and the memory I shall leave in death.” + As this thought crossed him, and his gaze was still fixed above, he saw, + as if made suddenly more distinct than the stars around it, that rapid and + fiery comet which in the winter of 1347 dismayed the superstitions of + those who recognised in the stranger of the heavens the omen of disaster + and of woe. He recoiled as it met his eye, and muttered to himself, “Is + such indeed my type! or, if the legendary lore speak true, and these + strange fires portend nations ruined and rulers overthrown, does it + foretell my fate? I will think no more.” (Alas! if by the Romans + associated with the fall of Rienzi, that comet was by the rest of Europe + connected with the more dire calamity of the Great Plague that so soon + afterwards ensued.) As his eyes fell, they rested upon the colossal Lion + of Basalt in the place below, the starlight investing its grey and + towering form with a more ghostly whiteness; and then it was, that he + perceived two figures in black robes lingering by the pedestal which + supported the statue, and apparently engaged in some occupation which he + could not guess. A fear shot through his veins, for he had never been able + to divest himself of the vague idea that there was some solemn and + appointed connexion between his fate and that old Lion of Basalt. Somewhat + relieved, he heard his sentry challenge the intruders; and as they came + forward to the light, he perceived that they wore the garments of monks. + </p> + <p> + “Molest us not, son,” said one of them to the sentry. “By order of the + Legate of the Holy Father we affix to this public monument of justice and + of wrath, the bull of excommunication against a heretic and rebel. WOE TO + THE ACCURSED OF THE CHURCH!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0036" id="link2HCH0036"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 5.VI. The Fall of the Temple. + </h2> + <p> + It was as a thunderbolt in a serene day—the reverse of the Tribune + in the zenith of his power, in the abasement of his foe; when, with but a + handful of brave Romans, determined to be free, he might have crushed for + ever the antagonist power to the Roman liberties—have secured the + rights of his country, and filled up the measure of his own renown. Such a + reverse was the very mockery of Fate, who bore him through disaster, to + abandon him in the sunniest noon of his prosperity. + </p> + <p> + The next morning not a soul was to be seen in the streets; the shops were + shut—the churches closed; the city was as under an interdict. The + awful curse of the papal excommunication upon the chief magistrate of the + Pontifical City, seemed to freeze up all the arteries of life. The Legate + himself, affecting fear of his life, had fled to Monte Fiascone, where he + was joined by the Barons immediately after the publication of the edict. + The curse worked best in the absence of the execrator. + </p> + <p> + Towards evening a few persons might be seen traversing the broad space of + the Capitol, crossing themselves, as the bull, placarded on the Lion, met + their eyes, and disappearing within the doors of the great palace. By and + by, a few anxious groups collected in the streets, but they soon + dispersed. It was a paralysis of all intercourse and commune. That + spiritual and unarmed authority, which, like the invisible hand of God, + desolated the market-place, and humbled the crowned head, no physical + force could rally against or resist. Yet, through the universal awe, one + conviction touched the multitude—it was for them that their Tribune + was thus blasted in the midst of his glories! The words of the Brand + recorded against him on wall and column detailed his offences:—rebellion + in asserting the liberties of Rome—heresy in purifying + ecclesiastical abuses;—and, to serve for a miserable covert to the + rest, it was sacrilege for bathing in the porphyry vase of Constantine! + They felt the conviction; they sighed—they shuddered—and, in + his vast palace, save a few attached and devoted hearts, the Tribune was + alone! + </p> + <p> + The staunchest of his Tuscan soldiery were gone with Irene. The rest of + his force, save a few remaining guards, was the paid Roman militia, + composed of citizens; who, long discontented by the delay of their + stipends, now seized on the excuse of the excommunication to remain + passive, but grumbling, in their homes. + </p> + <p> + On the third day, a new incident broke upon the death-like lethargy of the + city; a hundred and fifty mercenaries, with Pepin of Minorbino, a + Neapolitan, half noble, half bandit, (a creature of Montreal’s) at their + head, entered the city, seized upon the fortresses of the Colonna, and + sent a herald through the city, proclaiming in the name of the Cardinal + Legate, the reward of ten thousand florins for the head of Cola di Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + Then, swelled on high, shrill but not inspiring as of old, the great bell + of the Capitol—the people, listless, disheartened, awed by the + spiritual fear of the papal authority, (yet greater, in such events, since + the removal of the see,) came unarmed to the Capitol; and there, by the + Place of the Lion, stood the Tribune. His squires, below the step, held + his war-horse, his helm, and the same battle-axe which had blazed in the + van of victorious war. + </p> + <p> + Beside him were a few of his guard, his attendants, and two or three of + the principal citizens. + </p> + <p> + He stood bareheaded and erect, gazing upon the abashed and unarmed crowd + with a look of bitter scorn, mingled with deep compassion; and, as the + bell ceased its toll, and the throng remained hushed and listening, he + thus spoke:— + </p> + <p> + “Ye come, then, once again! Come ye as slaves or freemen? A handful of + armed men are in your walls: will ye who chased from your gates the + haughtiest knights—the most practised battle-men of Rome, succumb + now to one hundred and fifty hirelings and strangers? Will ye arm for your + Tribune? You are silent!—be it so. Will you arm for your own + liberties—your own Rome? Silent still! By the saints that reign on + the thrones of the heathen gods! are ye thus fallen from your birthright? + Have you no arms for your own defence? Romans, hear me! Have I wronged + you?—if so, by your hands let me die: and then, with knives yet + reeking with my blood, go forward against the robber who is but the herald + of your slavery; and I die honoured, grateful, and avenged. You weep! + Great God! you weep! Ay, and I could weep, too—that I should live to + speak of liberty in vain to Romans—Weep! is this an hour for tears? + Weep now, and your tears shall ripen harvests of crime, and licence, and + despotism, to come! Romans, arm! follow me at once to the Place of the + Colonna: expel this ruffian—expel your enemy (no matter what + afterwards you do to me):” he paused; no ardour was kindled by his words—“or,” + he continued, “I abandon you to your fate.” There was a long, low, general + murmur; at length it became shaped into speech, and many voices cried + simultaneously: “The Pope’s bull!—Thou art a man accursed!” + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried the Tribune; “and is it ye who forsake me, ye for whose + cause alone man dares to hurl against me the thunders of his God? Is it + not for you that I am declared heretic and rebel! What are my imputed + crimes? That I have made Rome and asserted Italy to be free; that I have + subdued the proud Magnates, who were the scourge both of Pope and People. + And you—you upbraid me with what I have dared and done for you! Men, + with you I would have fought, for you I would have perished. You forsake + yourselves in forsaking me, and since I no longer rule over brave men, I + resign my power to the tyrant you prefer. Seven months I have ruled over + you, prosperous in commerce, stainless in justice—victorious in the + field:—I have shown you what Rome could be; and, since I abdicate + the government ye gave me, when I am gone, strike for your own freedom! It + matters nothing who is the chief of a brave and great people. Prove that + Rome hath many a Rienzi, but of brighter fortunes.” + </p> + <p> + “I would he had not sought to tax us,” said Cecco del Vecchio, who was the + very personification of the vulgar feeling: “and that he had beheaded the + Barons!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay!” cried the ex-gravedigger; “but that blessed porphyry vase!” + </p> + <p> + “And why should we get our throats cut,” said Luigi, the butcher, “like my + two brothers?—Heaven rest them!” + </p> + <p> + On the face of the general multitude there was a common expression of + irresolution and shame, many wept and groaned, none (save the aforesaid + grumblers) accused; none upbraided, but none seemed disposed to arm. It + was one of those listless panics, those strange fits of indifference and + lethargy which often seize upon a people who make liberty a matter of + impulse and caprice, to whom it has become a catchword, who have not long + enjoyed all its rational, and sound, and practical, and blessed results; + who have been affrayed by the storms that herald its dawn;—a people + such as is common to the south: such as even the north has known; such as, + had Cromwell lived a year longer, even England might have seen; and, + indeed, in some measure, such a reaction from popular enthusiasm to + popular indifference England did see, when her children madly surrendered + the fruits of a bloody war, without reserve, without foresight, to the + lewd pensioner of Louis, and the royal murderer of Sydney. To such + prostration of soul, such blindness of intellect, even the noblest people + will be subjected, when liberty, which should be the growth of ages, + spreading its roots through the strata of a thousand customs, is raised, + the exotic of an hour, and (like the Tree and Dryad of ancient fable) + flourishes and withers with the single spirit that protects it. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Heaven, that I were a man!” exclaimed Angelo, who stood behind + Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + “Hear him, hear the boy,” cried the Tribune; “out of the mouths of babes + speaketh wisdom! He wishes that he were a man, as ye are men, that he + might do as ye should do. Mark me,—I ride with these faithful few + through the quarter of the Colonna, before the fortress of your foe. Three + times before that fortress shall my trumpets sound; if at the third blast + ye come not, armed as befits ye—I say not all, but three, but two, + but one hundred of ye—I break up my wand of office, and the world + shall say one hundred and fifty robbers quelled the soul of Rome, and + crushed her magistrate and her laws!” + </p> + <p> + With those words he descended the stairs, and mounted his charger; the + populace gave way in silence, and their Tribune and his slender train + passed slowly on, and gradually vanished from the view of the increasing + crowd. + </p> + <p> + The Romans remained on the place, and after a pause, the demagogue + Baroncelli, who saw an opening to his ambition, addressed them. Though not + an eloquent nor gifted man, he had the art of uttering the most popular + commonplaces. And he knew the weak side of his audience, in their vanity, + indolence, and arrogant pride. + </p> + <p> + “Look you, my masters,” said he, leaping up to the Place of the Lion; “the + Tribune talks bravely—he always did—but the monkey used the + cat for his chestnuts; he wants to thrust your paws into the fire; you + will not be so silly as to let him. The saints bless us! but the Tribune, + good man, gets a palace and has banquets, and bathes in a porphyry vase; + the more shame on him!—in which San Sylvester christened the Emperor + Constantine: all this is worth fighting for; but you, my masters, what do + you get except hard blows, and a stare at a holyday spectacle? Why, if you + beat these fellows, you will have another tax on the wine: that will be + your reward!” + </p> + <p> + “Hark!” cried Cecco, “there sounds the trumpet,—a pity he wanted to + tax us!” + </p> + <p> + “True,” cried Baroncelli, “there sounds the trumpet; a silver trumpet, by + the Lord! Next week, if you help him out of the scrape, he’ll have a + golden one. But go—why don’t you move, my friends?—‘tis but + one hundred and fifty mercenaries. True, they are devils to fight, clad in + armour from top to toe; but what then?—if they do cut some four or + five hundred throats you’ll beat them at last, and the Tribune will sup + the merrier.” + </p> + <p> + “There sounds the second blast,” said the butcher. “If my old mother had + not lost two of us already, ‘tis odds, but I’d strike a blow for the bold + Tribune.” + </p> + <p> + “You had better put more quicksilver in you,” continued Baroncelli, “or + you will be too late. And what a pity that will be!—If you believe + the Tribune, he is the only man that can save Rome. What, you, the finest + people in the world—you, not able to save yourselves!—you, + bound up with one man—you, not able to dictate to the Colonna and + Orsini! Why, who beat the Barons at San Lorenzo? Was it not you? Ah! you + got the buffets, and the Tribune the moneta! Tush, my friends, let the man + go; I warrant there are plenty as good as he to be bought a cheaper + bargain. And, hark! there is the third blast; it is too late now!” + </p> + <p> + As the trumpet from the distance sent forth its long and melancholy note, + it was as the last warning of the parting genius of the place; and when + silence swallowed up the sound, a gloom fell over the whole assembly. They + began to regret, to repent, when regret and repentance availed no more. + The buffoonery of Baroncelli became suddenly displeasing; and the orator + had the mortification of seeing his audience disperse in all directions, + just as he was about to inform them what great things he himself could do + in their behalf. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the Tribune, passing unscathed through the dangerous quarter of + the enemy, who, dismayed at his approach, shrunk within their fortress, + proceeded to the Castle of St. Angelo, whither Nina had already preceded + him; and which he entered to find that proud lady with a smile for his + safety,—without a tear for his reverse. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0037" id="link2HCH0037"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 5.VII. The Successors of an Unsuccessful Revolution—Who is + to + </h2> + <p> + Blame—the Forsaken one or the Forsakers? + </p> + <p> + Cheerfully broke the winter sun over the streets of Rome, as the army of + the Barons swept along them. The Cardinal Legate at the head; the old + Colonna (no longer haughty and erect, but bowed, and broken-hearted at the + loss of his sons) at his right hand;—the sleek smile of Luca Savelli—the + black frown of Rinaldo Orsini, were seen close behind. A long but + barbarous array it was; made up chiefly of foreign hirelings; nor did the + procession resemble the return of exiled citizens, but the march of + invading foes. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord Colonna,” said the Cardinal Legate, a small withered man, by + birth a Frenchman, and full of the bitterest prejudices against the + Romans, who had in a former mission very ill received him, as was their + wont with foreign ecclesiastics; “this Pepin, whom Montreal has deputed at + your orders, hath done us indeed good service.” + </p> + <p> + The old Lord bowed, but made no answer. His strong intellect was already + broken, and there was dotage in his glassy eye. The Cardinal muttered, “He + hears me not; sorrow hath brought him to second childhood!” and looking + back, motioned to Luca Savelli to approach. + </p> + <p> + “Luca,” said the Legate, “it was fortunate that the Hungarian’s black + banner detained the Provencal at Aversa. Had he entered Rome, we might + have found Rienzi’s successor worse than the Tribune himself. Montreal,” + he added, with a slight emphasis and a curled lip, “is a gentleman, and a + Frenchman. This Pepin, who is his delegate, we must bribe, or menace to + our will.” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly,” answered Savelli, “it is not a difficult task: for Montreal + calculated on a more stubborn contest, which he himself would have found + leisure to close—” + </p> + <p> + “As Podesta, or Prince of Rome! the modest man! We Frenchmen have a due + sense of our own merits; but this sudden victory surprises him as it doth + us, Luca; and we shall wrest the prey from Pepin, ere Montreal can come to + his help! But Rienzi must die. He is still, I hear, shut up in St. Angelo. + The Orsini shall storm him there ere the day be much older. Today we + possess the Capitol—annul all the rebel’s laws—break up his + ridiculous parliament, and put all the government of the city under three + senators—Rinaldo Orsini, Colonna, and myself; you, my Lord, I trust, + we shall fitly provide for.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! I am rewarded enough by returning to my palace; and a descent on the + Jewellers’ quarter will soon build up its fortifications. Luca Savelli is + not an ambitious man. He wants but to live in peace.” + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal smiled sourly, and took the turn towards the Capitol. + </p> + <p> + In the front space the usual gapers were assembled. “Make way! make way! + knaves!” cried the guards, trampling on either side the crowd, who, + accustomed to the sedate and courteous order of Rienzi’s guard, fell back + too slowly for many of them to escape severe injury from the pikes of the + soldiers and the hoofs of the horses. Our friend, Luigi, the butcher, was + one of these, and the surliness of the Roman blood was past boiling heat + when he received in his ample stomach the blunt end of a German’s pike. + “There, Roman,” said the rude mercenary, in his barbarous attempt at + Italian, “make way for your betters; you have had enough crowds and shows + of late, in all conscience.” + </p> + <p> + “Betters!” gulped out the poor butcher; “a Roman has no betters; and if I + had not lost two brothers by San Lorenzo, I would—” + </p> + <p> + “The dog is mutinous,” said one of the followers of the Orsini, succeeding + the German who had passed on, “and talks of San Lorenzo!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said another Orsinist, who rode abreast, “I remember him of old. He + was one of Rienzi’s gang.” + </p> + <p> + “Was he?” said the other, sternly; “then we cannot begin salutary examples + too soon;” and, offended at something swaggering and insolent in the + butcher’s look, the Orsinist coolly thrust him through the heart with his + pike, and rode on over his body. + </p> + <p> + “Shame! Shame!” “Murder! Murder!” cried the crowd: and they began to + press, in the passion of the moment, round the fierce guards. + </p> + <p> + The Legate heard the cry, and saw the rush: he turned pale. “The rascals + rebel again!” he faltered. + </p> + <p> + “No, your Eminence—no,” said Luca; “but it may be as well to infuse + a wholesome terror; they are all unarmed; let me bid the guards disperse + them. A word will do it.” + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal assented; the word was given; and, in a few minutes, the + soldiery, who still smarted under the vindictive memory of defeat from an + undisciplined multitude, scattered the crowd down the streets without + scruple or mercy—riding over some, spearing others—filling the + air with shrieks and yells, and strewing the ground with almost as many + men as a few days before would have sufficed to have guarded Rome, and + preserved the constitution! Through this wild, tumultuous scene, and over + the bodies of its victims, rode the Legate and his train, to receive in + the Hall of the Capitol the allegiance of the citizens, and to proclaim + the return of the oppressors. + </p> + <p> + As they dismounted at the stairs, a placard in large letters struck the + eye of the Legate. It was placed upon the pedestal of the Lion of Basalt, + covering the very place that had been occupied by the bull of + excommunication. The words were few, and ran thus: + </p> + <p> + “TREMBLE! RIENZI SHALL RETURN!” + </p> + <p> + “How! what means this mummery!” cried the Legate, trembling already, and + looking round to the nobles. + </p> + <p> + “Please your Eminence,” said one of the councillors, who had come from the + Capitol to meet the Legate, “we saw it at daybreak, the ink yet moist, as + we entered the Hall. We deemed it best to leave it for your Eminence to + deal with.” + </p> + <p> + “You deemed! Who are you, then?” + </p> + <p> + “One of the members of the Council, your Eminence, and a stanch opponent + of the Tribune, as is well known, when he wanted the new tax—” + </p> + <p> + “Council—trash! No more councils now! Order is restored at last. The + Orsini and the Colonna will look to you in future. Resist a tax, did you? + Well, that was right when proposed by a tyrant; but I warn you, friend, to + take care how you resist the tax we shall impose. Happy if your city can + buy its peace with the Church on any terms:—and his Holiness is + short of the florins.” + </p> + <p> + The discomfited councillor shrank back. + </p> + <p> + “Tear off yon insolent placard. Nay, hold! fix over it our proclamation of + ten thousand florins for the heretic’s head! Ten thousand? methinks that + is too much now—we will alter the cipher. Meanwhile Rinaldo Orsini, + Lord Senator, march thy soldiers to St. Angelo; let us see if the heretic + can stand a siege.” + </p> + <p> + “It needs not, your Eminence,” said the councillor, again officiously + bustling up; “St. Angelo is surrendered. The Tribune, his wife, and one + page, escaped last night, it is said, in disguise.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” said the old Colonna, whose dulled sense had at length arrived at + the conclusion that something extraordinary arrested the progress of his + friends. “What is the matter? What is that placard? Will no one tell me + the words? My old eyes are dim.” + </p> + <p> + As he uttered the questions, in the shrill and piercing treble of age, a + voice replied in a loud and deep tone—none knew whence it came; the + crowd was reduced to a few stragglers, chiefly friars in cowl and serge, + whose curiosity nought could daunt, and whose garb ensured them safety—the + soldiers closed the rear: a voice, I say, came, startling the colour from + many a cheek—in answer to the Colonna, saying: + </p> + <p> + “TREMBLE! RIENZI SHALL RETURN!” <a name="link2H_4_0046" id="link2H_4_0046"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK VI. THE PLAGUE. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Erano gli anni della fruttifera Incarnazione del Figliuolo + di Dio al numero pervenuti di mille trecento quarant’otto, + quando nell’ egregia citta di Fiorenza oltre ad ogni altra + Italica bellissima, pervenna la mortifera pestilenza.”— + Boccaccio, “Introduzione al Decamerone”. + + “The years of the fructiferous incarnation of the Son of God + had reached the number of one thousand three hundred and + forty-eight, when into the illustrious city of Florence, + beautiful beyond every other in Italy, entered the death- + fraught pestilence.”—“Introduction to the Decameron”. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0038" id="link2HCH0038"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 6.1. The Retreat of the Lover. + </h2> + <p> + By the borders of one of the fairest lakes of Northern Italy stood the + favourite mansion of Adrian di Castello, to which in his softer and less + patriotic moments his imagination had often and fondly turned; and thither + the young nobleman, dismissing his more courtly and distinguished + companions in the Neapolitan embassy, retired after his ill-starred return + to Rome. Most of those thus dismissed joined the Barons; the young + Annibaldi, whose daring and ambitious nature had attached him strongly to + the Tribune, maintained a neutral ground; he betook himself to his castle + in the Campagna, and did not return to Rome till the expulsion of Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + The retreat of Irene’s lover was one well fitted to feed his melancholy + reveries. Without being absolutely a fortress, it was sufficiently strong + to resist any assault of the mountain robbers or petty tyrants in the + vicinity; while, built by some former lord from the materials of the + half-ruined villas of the ancient Romans, its marbled columns and + tesselated pavements relieved with a wild grace the grey stone walls and + massive towers of feudal masonry. Rising from a green eminence gently + sloping to the lake, the stately pile cast its shadow far and dark over + the beautiful waters; by its side, from the high and wooded mountains on + the background, broke a waterfall, in irregular and sinuous course—now + hid by the foliage, now gleaming in the light, and collecting itself at + last in a broad basin—beside which a little fountain, inscribed with + half-obliterated letters, attested the departed elegance of the classic + age—some memento of lord and poet whose very names were lost; thence + descending through mosses and lichen, and odorous herbs, a brief, sheeted + stream bore its surplus into the lake. And there, amidst the sturdier and + bolder foliage of the North, grew, wild and picturesque, many a tree + transplanted, in ages back, from the sunnier East; not blighted nor + stunted in that golden clime, which fosters almost every produce of nature + as with a mother’s care. The place was remote and solitary. The roads that + conducted to it from the distant towns were tangled, intricate, + mountainous, and beset by robbers. A few cottages, and a small convent, a + quarter of a league up the verdant margin, were the nearest habitations; + and, save by some occasional pilgrim or some bewildered traveller, the + loneliness of the mansion was rarely invaded. It was precisely the spot + which proffered rest to a man weary of the world, and indulged the + memories which grow in rank luxuriance over the wrecks of passion. And he + whose mind, at once gentle and self-dependent, can endure solitude, might + have ransacked all earth for a more fair and undisturbed retreat. + </p> + <p> + But not to such a solitude had the earlier dreams of Adrian dedicated the + place. Here had he thought—should one bright being have presided—here + should love have found its haven: and hither, when love at length admitted + of intrusion, hither might wealth and congenial culture have invited all + the gentler and better spirits which had begun to move over the troubled + face of Italy, promising a second and younger empire of poesy, and lore, + and art. To the graceful and romantic but somewhat pensive and inert, + temperament of the young noble, more adapted to calm and civilized than + stormy and barbarous times, ambition proffered no reward so grateful as + lettered leisure and intellectual repose. His youth coloured by the + influence of Petrarch, his manhood had dreamed of a happier Vaucluse not + untenanted by a Laura. The visions which had connected the scene with the + image of Irene made the place still haunted by her shade; and time and + absence only ministering to his impassioned meditations, deepened his + melancholy and increased his love. + </p> + <p> + In this lone retreat—which even in describing from memory, for these + eyes have seen, these feet have trodden, this heart yet yearneth for, the + spot—which even, I say, in thus describing, seems to me (and haply + also to the gentle reader) a grateful and welcome transit from the storms + of action and the vicissitudes of ambition, so long engrossing the + narrative;—in this lone retreat Adrian passed the winter, which + visits with so mild a change that intoxicating clime. The roar of the + world without was borne but in faint and indistinct murmurings to his ear. + He learned only imperfectly, and with many contradictions, the news which + broke like a thunderbolt over Italy, that the singular and aspiring man—himself + a revolution—who had excited the interest of all Europe, the + brightest hopes of the enthusiastic, the profusest adulation of the great, + the deepest terror of the despot, the wildest aspirations of all free + spirits, had been suddenly stricken from his state, his name branded and + his head proscribed. This event, which happened at the end of December, + reached Adrian, through a wandering pilgrim, at the commencement of March, + somewhat more than two months after the date; the March of that awful year + 1348, which saw Europe, and Italy especially, desolated by the direst + pestilence which history has recorded, accursed alike by the numbers and + the celebrity of its victims, and yet strangely connected with some not + unpleasing images by the grace of Boccaccio and the eloquence of Petrarch. + </p> + <p> + The pilgrim who informed Adrian of the revolution at Rome was unable to + give him any clue to the present fate of Rienzi or his family. It was only + known that the Tribune and his wife had escaped, none knew whither; many + guessed that they were already dead, victims to the numerous robbers who + immediately on the fall of the Tribune settled back to their former + habits, sparing neither age nor sex, wealth nor poverty. As all relating + to the ex-Tribune was matter of eager interest, the pilgrim had also + learned that, previous to the fall of Rienzi, his sister had left Rome, + but it was not known to what place she had been conveyed. + </p> + <p> + The news utterly roused Adrian from his dreaming life. Irene was then in + the condition his letter dared to picture—severed from her brother, + fallen from her rank, desolate and friendless. “Now,” said the generous + and high-hearted lover, “she may be mine without a disgrace to my name. + Whatever Rienzi’s faults, she is not implicated in them. Her hands are not + red with my kinsman’s blood; nor can men say that Adrian di Castello + allies himself with a House whose power is built upon the ruins of the + Colonnas. The Colonna are restored—again triumphant—Rienzi is + nothing—distress and misfortune unite me at once to her on whom they + fall!” + </p> + <p> + But how were these romantic resolutions to be executed—Irene’s + dwelling-place unknown? He resolved himself to repair to Rome and make the + necessary inquiries: accordingly he summoned his retainers:—blithe + tidings to them, those of travel! The mail left the armoury—the + banner the hall—and after two days of animated bustle, the fountain + by which Adrian had passed so many hours of revery was haunted only by the + birds of the returning spring; and the nightly lamp no longer cast its + solitary ray from his turret chamber over the bosom of the deserted lake. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0039" id="link2HCH0039"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 6.II. The Seeker. + </h2> + <p> + It was a bright, oppressive, sultry morning, when a solitary horseman was + seen winding that unequalled road, from whose height, amidst figtrees, + vines, and olives, the traveller beholds gradually break upon his gaze the + enchanting valley of the Arno, and the spires and domes of Florence. But + not with the traveller’s customary eye of admiration and delight passed + that solitary horseman, and not upon the usual activity, and mirth, and + animation of the Tuscan life, broke that noon-day sun. All was silent, + void, and hushed; and even in the light of heaven there seemed a sicklied + and ghastly glare. The cottages by the road-side were some shut up and + closed, some open, but seemingly inmateless. The plough stood still, the + distaff plied not: horse and man had a dreary holiday. There was a darker + curse upon the land than the curse of Cain! Now and then a single figure, + usually clad in the gloomy robe of a friar, crossed the road, lifting + towards the traveller a livid and amazed stare, and then hurried on, and + vanished beneath some roof, whence issued a faint and dying moan, which + but for the exceeding stillness around could scarcely have pierced the + threshold. As the traveller neared the city, the scene became less + solitary, yet more dread. There might be seen carts and litters, thick + awnings wrapped closely round them, containing those who sought safety in + flight, forgetful that the Plague was everywhere! And while these gloomy + vehicles, conducted by horses, gaunt, shadowy skeletons, crawling heavily + along, passed by, like hearses of the dead, sometimes a cry burst the + silence in which they moved, and the traveller’s steed started aside, as + some wretch, on whom the disease had broke forth, was dropped from the + vehicle by the selfish inhumanity of his comrades, and left to perish by + the way. Hard by the gate a waggon paused, and a man with a mask threw out + its contents in a green slimy ditch that bordered the road. These were + garments and robes of all kind and value; the broidered mantle of the + gallant, the hood and veil of my lady, and the rags of the peasant. While + glancing at the labour of the masker, the cavalier beheld a herd of swine, + gaunt and half famished, run to the spot in the hopes of food, and the + traveller shuddered to think what food they might have anticipated! But + ere he reached the gate, those of the animals that had been busiest + rooting at the infectious heap, dropped down dead amongst their fellows. + (The same spectacle greeted, and is recorded by, Boccaccio.) + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho,” said the masker, and his hollow voice sounded yet more hollow + through his vizard,—“comest thou here to die, stranger? See, thy + brave mantle of triple-pile and golden broidery will not save thee from + the gavocciolo. (The tumour that made the fatal symptom.) Ride on, ride + on;—today fit morsel for thy lady’s kiss, tomorrow too foul for the + rat and worm!” + </p> + <p> + Replying not to this hideous welcome, Adrian, for it was he, pursued his + way. The gates stood wide open: this was the most appalling sign of all, + for, at first, the most jealous precaution had been taken against the + ingress of strangers. Now all care, all foresight, all vigilance, were + vain. And thrice nine warders had died at that single post, and the + officers to appoint their successors were dead too! Law and Police, and + the Tribunals of Health, and the Boards of Safety, Death had stopped them + all! And the Plague killed art itself, social union, the harmony and + mechanism of civilization, as if they had been bone and flesh! + </p> + <p> + So, mute and solitary, went on the lover, in his quest of love, resolved + to find and to save his betrothed, and guided (that faithful and loyal + knight!) through the Wilderness of Horror by the blessed hope of that + strange passion, noblest of all when noble, basest of all when base! He + came into a broad and spacious square lined with palaces, the usual haunt + of the best and most graceful nobility of Italy. The stranger was alone + now, and the tramp of his gallant steed sounded ghastly and fearful in his + own ears, when just as he turned the corner of one of the streets that led + from it, he saw a woman steal forth with a child in her arms, while + another, yet in infancy clung to her robe. She held a large bunch of + flowers to her nostrils, (the fancied and favourite mode to prevent + infection), and muttered to the children, who were moaning with hunger,—“Yes, + yes, you shall have food! Plenty of food now for the stirring forth. But + oh, that stirring forth!”—and she peered about and round, lest any + of the diseased might be near. + </p> + <p> + “My friend,” said he, “can you direct me to the convent of—” + </p> + <p> + “Away, man, away!” shrieked the woman. + </p> + <p> + “Alas!” said Adrian, with a mournful smile, “can you not see that I am + not, as yet, one to spread contagion?” + </p> + <p> + But the woman, unheeding him, fled on; when, after a few paces, she was + arrested by the child that clung to her. + </p> + <p> + “Mother, mother!” it cried, “I am sick—I cannot stir.” + </p> + <p> + The woman halted, tore aside the child’s robe, saw under the arm the fatal + tumour, and, deserting her own flesh, fled with a shriek along the square. + The shriek rang long in Adrian’s ears, though not aware of the unnatural + cause;—the mother feared not for her infant, but herself. The voice + of Nature was no more heeded in that charnel city than it is in the tomb + itself! Adrian rode on at a brisker pace, and came at length before a + stately church; its doors were wide open, and he saw within a company of + monks (the church had no other worshippers, and they were masked) gathered + round the altar, and chanting the Miserere Domine;—the ministers of + God, in a city hitherto boasting the devoutest population in Italy, + without a flock! + </p> + <p> + The young Cavalier paused before the door, and waited till the service was + done, and the monks descended the steps into the street. + </p> + <p> + “Holy fathers,” said he then, “may I pray your goodness to tell me my + nearest way to the convent Santa Maria de’ Pazzi?” + </p> + <p> + “Son,” said one of these featureless spectres, for so they seemed in their + shroud-like robes, and uncouth vizards,—“son, pass on your way, and + God be with you. Robbers or revellers may now fill the holy cloisters you + speak of. The abbess is dead; and many a sister sleeps with her. And the + nuns have fled from the contagion.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +Adrian half fell from his horse, and, as he still remained rooted to the +spot, the dark procession swept on, hymning in solemn dirge through the +desolate street the monastic chaunt— + + “By the Mother and the Son, + Death endured and mercy won: + Spare us, sinners though we be; + Miserere Domine!” + </pre> + <p> + Recovering from his stupor, Adrian regained the brethren, and, as they + closed the burthen of their song, again accosted them. + </p> + <p> + “Holy fathers, dismiss me not thus. Perchance the one I seek may yet be + heard of at the convent. Tell me which way to shape my course.” + </p> + <p> + “Disturb us not, son,” said the monk who spoke before. “It is an ill omen + for thee to break thus upon the invocations of the ministers of Heaven.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon, pardon! I will do ample penance, pay many masses; but I seek a + dear friend—the way—the way—” + </p> + <p> + “To the right, till you gain the first bridge. Beyond the third bridge, on + the riverside, you will find the convent,” said another monk, moved by the + earnestness of Adrian. + </p> + <p> + “Bless you, holy father,” faltered forth the Cavalier, and spurred his + steed in the direction given. The friars heeded him not, but again resumed + their dirge. Mingled with the sound of his horse’s hoofs on the clattering + pavement, came to the rider’s ear the imploring line— + </p> + <p> + “Miserere Domine!” + </p> + <p> + Impatient, sick at heart, desperate, Adrian flew through the street at the + full speed of his horse. He passed the marketplace—it was empty as + the desert;—the gloomy and barricadoed streets, in which the + countercries of Guelf and Ghibeline had so often cheered on the Chivalry + and Rank of Florence. Now huddled together in vault and pit, lay Guelf and + Ghibeline, knightly spurs and beggar’s crutch. To that silence the roar + even of civil strife would have been a blessing! The first bridge, the + riverside, the second, the third bridge, all were gained, and Adrian at + last reined his steed before the walls of the convent. He fastened his + steed to the porch, in which the door stood ajar, half torn from its + hinges, traversed the court, gained the opposite door that admitted to the + main building, came to the jealous grating, now no more a barrier from the + profane world, and as he there paused a moment to recover breath and + nerve, wild laughter and loud song, interrupted and mixed with oaths, + startled his ear. He pushed aside the grated door, entered, and, led by + the sounds, came to the refectory. In that meeting-place of the severe and + mortified maids of heaven, he now beheld gathered round the upper table, + used of yore by the abbess, a strange, disorderly, ruffian herd, who at + first glance seemed indeed of all ranks, for some wore serge, or even + rags, others were tricked out in all the bravery of satin and velvet, + plume and mantle. But a second glance sufficed to indicate that the + companions were much of the same degree, and that the finery of the more + showy was but the spoil rent from unguarded palaces or tenantless bazaars; + for under plumed hats, looped with jewels, were grim, unwashed, unshaven + faces, over which hung the long locks which the professed brethren of the + sharp knife and hireling arm had just begun to assume, serving them often + instead of a mask. Amidst these savage revellers were many women, young + and middle-aged, foul and fair, and Adrian piously shuddered to see + amongst the loose robes and uncovered necks of the professional harlots + the saintly habit and beaded rosary of nuns. Flasks of wine, ample viands, + gold and silver vessels, mostly consecrated to holy rites, strewed the + board. As the young Roman paused spellbound at the threshold, the man who + acted as president of the revel, a huge, swarthy ruffian, with a deep scar + over his face, which, traversing the whole of the left cheek and upper + lip, gave his large features an aspect preternaturally hideous, called out + to him— + </p> + <p> + “Come in, man—come in! Why stand you there amazed and dumb? We are + hospitable revellers, and give all men welcome. Here are wine and women. + My Lord Bishop’s wine and my Lady Abbess’s women! + </p> + <p> + “Sing hey, sing ho, for the royal DEATH, That scatters a host with a + single breath; That opens the prison to spoil the palace, And rids honest + necks from the hangman’s malice. Here’s a health to the Plague! Let the + mighty ones dread, The poor never lived till the wealthy were dead. A + health to the Plague! May She ever as now Loose the rogue from his chain + and the nun from her vow: To the gaoler a sword, to the captive a key, + Hurrah for Earth’s Curse—‘tis a Blessing to me!” + </p> + <p> + Ere this fearful stave was concluded, Adrian, sensible that in such orgies + there was no chance of prosecuting his inquiries, left the desecrated + chamber and fled, scarcely drawing breath, so great was the terror that + seized him, till he stood once more in the court amidst the hot, sickly, + stagnant sunlight, that seemed a fit atmosphere for the scenes on which it + fell. He resolved, however, not to desert the place without making another + effort at inquiry; and while he stood without the court, musing and + doubtful, he saw a small chapel hard by, through whose long casement + gleamed faintly, and dimmed by the noon-day, the light of tapers. He + turned towards its porch, entered, and saw beside the sanctuary a single + nun kneeling in prayer. In the narrow aisle, upon a long table, (at either + end of which burned the tall dismal tapers whose rays had attracted him,) + the drapery of several shrouds showed him the half-distinct outline of + human figures hushed in death. Adrian himself, impressed by the sadness + and sanctity of the place, and the touching sight of that solitary and + unselfish watcher of the dead, knelt down and intensely prayed. + </p> + <p> + As he rose, somewhat relieved from the burthen at his heart, the nun rose + also, and started to perceive him. + </p> + <p> + “Unhappy man!” said she, in a voice which, low, faint, and solemn, sounded + as a ghost’s—“what fatality brings thee hither? Seest thou not thou + art in the presence of clay which the Plague hath touched—thou + breathest the air which destroys! Hence! and search throughout all the + desolation for one spot where the Dark Visitor hath not come!” + </p> + <p> + “Holy maiden,” answered Adrian, “the danger you hazard does not appal me;—I + seek one whose life is dearer than my own.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou needest say no more to tell me thou art newly come to Florence! Here + son forsakes his father, and mother deserts her child. When life is most + hopeless, these worms of a day cling to it as if it were the salvation of + immortality! But for me alone, death has no horror. Long severed from the + world, I have seen my sisterhood perish—the house of God desecrated—its + altar overthrown, and I care not to survive,—the last whom the + Pestilence leaves at once unperjured and alive.” + </p> + <p> + The nun paused a few moments, and then, looking earnestly at the healthful + countenance and unbroken frame of Adrian, sighed heavily—“Stranger, + why fly you not?” she said. “Thou mightst as well search the crowded + vaults and rotten corruption of the dead, as search the city for one + living.” + </p> + <p> + “Sister, and bride of the blessed Redeemer!” returned the Roman, clasping + his hands—“one word I implore thee. Thou art, methinks, of the + sisterhood of yon dismantled convent; tell me, knowest thou if Irene di + Gabrini, (The family name of Rienzi was Gabrini.)—guest of the late + Abbess, sister of the fallen Tribune of Rome,—be yet amongst the + living?” + </p> + <p> + “Art thou her brother, then?” said the nun. “Art thou that fallen Sun of + the Morning?” + </p> + <p> + “I am her betrothed,” replied Adrian, sadly. “Speak.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, flesh! flesh! how art thou victor to the last, even amidst the + triumphs and in the lazar-house of corruption!” said the nun. “Vain man! + Think not of such carnal ties; make thy peace with heaven, for thy days + are surely numbered!” + </p> + <p> + “Woman!” cried Adrian, impatiently—“talk not to me of myself, nor + rail against ties whose holiness thou canst not know. I ask thee again, as + thou thyself hopest for mercy and for pardon, is Irene living?” + </p> + <p> + The nun was awed by the energy of the young lover, and after a moment, + which seemed to him an age of agonized suspense, she replied— + </p> + <p> + “The maiden thou speakest of died not with the general death. In the + dispersion of the few remaining, she left the convent—I know not + whither; but she had friends in Florence—their names I cannot tell + thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Now bless thee, holy sister! bless thee! How long since she left the + convent?” + </p> + <p> + “Four days have passed since the robber and the harlot have seized the + house of Santa Maria,” replied the nun, groaning: “and they were quick + successors to the sisterhood.” + </p> + <p> + “Four days!—and thou canst give me no clue?” + </p> + <p> + “None—yet stay, young man!”—and the nun, approaching, lowered + her voice to a hissing whisper—“Ask the Becchini.” (According to the + usual custom of Florence, the dead were borne to their resting-place on + biers, supported by citizens of equal rank; but a new trade was created by + the plague, and men of the lowest dregs of the populace, bribed by immense + payment, discharged the office of transporting the remains of the victims. + These were called Becchini.) + </p> + <p> + Adrian started aside, crossed himself hastily, and quitted the convent + without answer. He returned to his horse, and rode back into the silenced + heart of the city. Tavern and hotel there were no more; but the palaces of + dead princes were free to the living stranger. He entered one—a + spacious and splendid mansion. In the stables he found forage still in the + manger; but the horses, at that time in the Italian cities a proof of rank + as well as wealth, were gone with the hands that fed them. The highborn + Knight assumed the office of groom, took off the heavy harness, fastened + his steed to the rack, and as the wearied animal, unconscious of the + surrounding horrors, fell eagerly upon its meal, its young lord turned + away, and muttered, “Faithful servant, and sole companion! may the + pestilence that spareth neither beast nor man, spare thee! and mayst thou + bear me hence with a lighter heart!” + </p> + <p> + A spacious hall, hung with arms and banners—a wide flight of marble + stairs, whose walls were painted in the stiff outlines and gorgeous + colours of the day, conducted to vast chambers, hung with velvets and + cloth of gold, but silent as the tomb. He threw himself upon the cushions + which were piled in the centre of the room, for he had ridden far that + morning, and for many days before, and he was wearied and exhausted, body + and limb; but he could not rest. Impatience, anxiety, hope, and fear, + gnawed his heart and fevered his veins, and, after a brief and + unsatisfactory attempt to sober his own thoughts, and devise some plan of + search more certain than that which chance might afford him, he rose, and + traversed the apartments, in the unacknowledged hope which chance alone + could suggest. + </p> + <p> + It was easy to see that he had made his resting-place in the home of one + of the princes of the land; and the splendour of all around him far + outshone the barbarous and rude magnificence of the less civilized and + wealthy Romans. Here, lay the lute as last touched—the gilded and + illumined volume as last conned; there, were seats drawn familiarly + together, as when lady and gallant had interchanged whispers last. + </p> + <p> + “And such,” thought Adrian,—“such desolation may soon swallow up the + vestige of the unwelcomed guest, as of the vanished lord!” + </p> + <p> + At length he entered a saloon, in which was a table still spread with + wine-flasks, goblets of glass, and one of silver, withered flowers, + half-mouldy fruits, and viands. At one side the arras, folding-doors + opened to a broad flight of stairs, that descended to a little garden at + the back of the house, in which a fountain still played sparkling and + livingly—the only thing, save the stranger, living there! On the + steps lay a crimson mantle, and by it a lady’s glove. The relics seemed to + speak to the lover’s heart of a lover’s last wooing and last farewell. He + groaned aloud, and feeling he should have need of all his strength, filled + one of the goblets from a half-emptied flask of Cyprus wine. He drained + the draught—it revived him. “Now,” he said, “once more to my task!—I + will sally forth,” when suddenly he heard heavy steps along the rooms he + had quitted—they approached—they entered; and Adrian beheld + two huge and ill-omened forms stalk into the chamber. They were wrapped in + black homely draperies, their arms were bare, and they wore large + shapeless masks, which descended to the breast, leaving only access to + sight and breath in three small and circular apertures. The Colonna half + drew his sword, for the forms and aspects of these visitors were not such + as men think to look upon in safety. + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said one, “the palace has a new guest today. Fear us not, stranger; + there is room,—ay, and wealth enough for all men now in Florence! + Per Bacco! but there is still one goblet of silver left—how comes + that?” So saying, the man seized the cup which Adrian had just drained, + and thrust it into his breast. He then turned to Adrian, whose hand was + still upon his hilt, and said, with a laugh which came choked and muffled + through his vizard—“Oh, we cut no throats, Signor; the Invisible + spares us that trouble. We are honest men, state officers, and come but to + see if the cart should halt here tonight.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye are then—” + </p> + <p> + “Becchini!” + </p> + <p> + Adrian’s blood ran cold. The Becchino continued—“And keep you this + house while you rest at Florence, Signor?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, if the rightful lord claim it not.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! ha! ‘Rightful lord!’ The plague is Lord of all now! Why, I have known + three gallant companies tenant this palace the last week, and have buried + them all—all! It is a pleasant house enough, and gives good custom. + Are you alone?” + </p> + <p> + “At present, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Shew us where you sleep, that we may know where to come for you. You + won’t want us these three days, I see.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye are pleasant welcomers!” said Adrian;—“but listen to me. Can ye + find the living as well as bury the dead? I seek one in this city who, if + you discover her, shall be worth to you a year of burials!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no! that is out of our line. As well look for a dropped sand on the + beach, as for a living being amongst closed houses and yawning vaults; but + if you will pay the poor gravediggers beforehand, I promise you, you shall + have the first of a new charnel-house;—it will be finished just + about your time.” + </p> + <p> + “There!” said Adrian, flinging the wretches a few pieces of gold—“there! + and if you would do me a kinder service, leave me, at least while living; + or I may save you that trouble.” And he turned from the room. + </p> + <p> + The Becchino who had been spokesman followed him. “You are generous, + Signor, stay; you will want fresher food than these filthy fragments. I + will supply thee of the best, while—while thou wantest it. And hark,—whom + wishest thou that I should seek?” + </p> + <p> + This question arrested Adrian’s departure. He detailed the name, and all + the particulars he could suggest of Irene; and, with sickened heart, + described the hair, features, and stature of that lovely and hallowed + image, which might furnish a theme to the poet, and now gave a clue to the + gravedigger. + </p> + <p> + The unhallowed apparition shook his head when Adrian had concluded. “Full + five hundred such descriptions did I hear in the first days of the Plague, + when there were still such things as mistress and lover; but it is a + dainty catalogue, Signor, and it will be a pride to the poor Becchino to + discover or even to bury so many charms! I will do my best; meanwhile, I + can recommend you, if in a hurry, to make the best use of your time, to + many a pretty face and comely shape—” + </p> + <p> + “Out, fiend!” muttered Adrian: “fool to waste time with such as thou!” + </p> + <p> + The laugh of the gravedigger followed his steps. + </p> + <p> + All that day did Adrian wander through the city, but search and question + were alike unavailing; all whom he encountered and interrogated seemed to + regard him as a madman, and these were indeed of no kind likely to advance + his object. Wild troops of disordered, drunken revellers, processions of + monks, or here and there, scattered individuals gliding rapidly along, and + shunning all approach or speech, made the only haunters of the dismal + streets, till the sun sunk, lurid and yellow, behind the hills, and + Darkness closed around the noiseless pathway of the Pestilence. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0040" id="link2HCH0040"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 6.III. The Flowers Amidst the Tombs. + </h2> + <p> + Adrian found that the Becchino had taken care that famine should not + forestall the plague; the banquet of the dead was removed, and fresh + viands and wines of all kinds,—for there was plenty then in + Florence!—spread the table. He partook of the refreshment, though + but sparingly, and shrinking from repose in beds beneath whose gorgeous + hangings Death had been so lately busy, carefully closed door and window, + wrapped himself in his mantle, and found his resting-place on the cushions + of the chamber in which he had supped. Fatigue cast him into an unquiet + slumber, from which he was suddenly awakened by the roll of a cart below, + and the jingle of bells. He listened, as the cart proceeded slowly from + door to door, and at length its sound died away in the distance.—He + slept no more that night! + </p> + <p> + The sun had not long risen ere he renewed his labours; and it was yet + early when, just as he passed a church, two ladies richly dressed came + from the porch, and seemed through their vizards to regard the young + Cavalier with earnest attention. The gaze arrested him also, when one of + the ladies said, “Fair sir, you are overbold: you wear no mask; neither do + you smell to flowers.” + </p> + <p> + “Lady, I wear no mask, for I would be seen: I search these miserable + places for one in whose life I live.” + </p> + <p> + “He is young, comely, evidently noble, and the plague hath not touched + him: he will serve our purpose well,” whispered one of the ladies to the + other. + </p> + <p> + “You echo my own thoughts,” returned her companion; and then turning to + Adrian, she said, “You seek one you are not wedded to, if you seek so + fondly?” + </p> + <p> + “It is true.” + </p> + <p> + “Young and fair, with dark hair and neck of snow; I will conduct you to + her.” + </p> + <p> + “Signor!” + </p> + <p> + “Follow us!” + </p> + <p> + “Know you who I am, and whom I seek?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you in truth tell me aught of Irene?” + </p> + <p> + “I can: follow me.” + </p> + <p> + “To her?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes: follow us!” + </p> + <p> + The ladies moved on as if impatient of further parley. Amazed, doubtful, + and, as if in a dream, Adrian followed them. Their dress, manner, and the + pure Tuscan of the one who had addressed him, indicated them of birth and + station; but all else was a riddle which he could not solve. + </p> + <p> + They arrived at one of the bridges, where a litter and a servant on + horseback holding a palfrey by the bridle were in attendance. The ladies + entered the litter, and she who had before spoken bade Adrian follow on + the palfrey. + </p> + <p> + “But tell me—” he began. + </p> + <p> + “No questions, Cavalier,” said she, impatiently; “follow the living in + silence, or remain with the dead, as you list.” + </p> + <p> + With that the litter proceeded, and Adrian mounted the palfrey + wonderingly, and followed his strange conductors, who moved on at a + tolerably brisk pace. They crossed the bridge, left the river on one side, + and, soon ascending a gentle acclivity, the trees and flowers of the + country began to succeed dull walls and empty streets. After proceeding + thus somewhat less than half an hour, they turned up a green lane remote + from the road, and came suddenly upon the porticoes of a fair and stately + palace. Here the ladies descended from their litter; and Adrian, who had + vainly sought to extract speech from the attendant, also dismounted, and + following them across a spacious court, filled on either side with vases + of flowers and orange-trees, and then through a wide hall in the farther + side of the quadrangle, found himself in one of the loveliest spots eye + ever saw or poet ever sung. It was a garden plot of the most emerald + verdure, bosquets of laurel and of myrtle opened on either side into + vistas half overhung with clematis and rose, through whose arcades the + prospect closed with statues and gushing fountains; in front, the lawn was + bounded by rows of vases on marble pedestals filled with flowers, and + broad and gradual flights of steps of the whitest marble led from terrace + to terrace, each adorned with statues and fountains, half way down a high + but softly sloping and verdant hill. Beyond, spread in wide, various, and + luxurious landscape, the vineyards and olive-groves, the villas and + villages, of the Vale of Arno, intersected by the silver river, while the + city, in all its calm, but without its horror, raised its roofs and spires + to the sun. Birds of every hue and song, some free, some in net-work of + golden wire, warbled round; and upon the centre of the sward reclined four + ladies unmasked and richly dressed, the eldest of whom seemed scarcely + more than twenty; and five cavaliers, young and handsome, whose jewelled + vests and golden chains attested their degree. Wines and fruits were on a + low table beside; and musical instruments, chess-boards, and + gammon-tables, lay scattered all about. So fair a group, and so graceful a + scene, Adrian never beheld but once, and that was in the midst of the + ghastly pestilence of Italy!—such group and such scene our closet + indolence may yet revive in the pages of the bright Boccaccio! + </p> + <p> + On seeing Adrian and his companions approach, the party rose instantly; + and one of the ladies, who wore upon her head a wreath of laurel-leaves, + stepping before the rest, exclaimed, “well done, my Mariana! welcome back, + my fair subjects. And you, sir, welcome hither.” + </p> + <p> + The two guides of the Colonna had by this time removed their masks; and + the one who had accosted him, shaking her long and raven ringlets over a + bright, laughing eye and a cheek to whose native olive now rose a slight + blush, turned to him ere he could reply to the welcome he had received. + </p> + <p> + “Signor Cavalier,” said she, “you now see to what I have decoyed you. Own + that this is pleasanter than the sights and sounds of the city we have + left. You gaze on me in surprise. See, my Queen, how speechless the marvel + of your court has made our new gallant; I assure you he could talk quickly + enough when he had only us to confer with: nay, I was forced to impose + silence on him.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh! then you have not yet informed him of the custom and origin of the + court he enters!” quoth she of the laurel wreath. + </p> + <p> + “No, my Queen; I thought all description given in such a spot as our poor + Florence now is would fail of its object. My task is done, I resign him to + your Grace!” + </p> + <p> + So saying the lady tripped lightly away, and began coquettishly sleeking + her locks in the smooth mirror of a marble basin, whose waters trickled + over the margin upon the grass below, ever and anon glancing archly + towards the stranger, and sufficiently at hand to overhear all that was + said. + </p> + <p> + “In the first place, Signor, permit us to inquire,” said the lady who bore + the appellation of Queen, “thy name, rank, and birth-place.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” returned Adrian, “I came hither little dreaming to answer + questions respecting myself; but what it pleases you to ask, it must + please me to reply to. My name is Adrian di Castello, one of the Roman + house of the Colonna.” + </p> + <p> + “A noble column of a noble house!” answered the Queen. “For us, respecting + whom your curiosity may perhaps be aroused, know that we six ladies of + Florence, deserted by or deprived of our kin and protectors, formed the + resolution to retire to this palace, where, if death comes, it comes + stripped of half its horrors; and as the learned tell us that sadness + engenders the awful malady, so you see us sworn foes to sadness. Six + cavaliers of our acquaintance agreed to join us. We pass our days, whether + many or few, in whatever diversions we can find or invent. Music and the + dance, merry tales and lively songs, with such slight change of scene as + from sward to shade, from alley to fountain, fill up our time, and prepare + us for peaceful sleep and happy dreams. Each lady is by turns Queen of our + fairy court, as is my lot this day. One law forms the code of our + constitution—that nothing sad shall be admitted. We would live as if + yonder city were not, and as if (added the fair Queen, with a slight sigh) + youth, grace, and beauty, could endure for ever. One of our knights madly + left us for a day, promising to return; we have seen him no more; we will + not guess what hath chanced to him. It became necessary to fill up his + place; we drew lots who should seek his substitute; it fell upon the + ladies who have—not, I trust, to your displeasure—brought you + hither. Fair sir, my explanation is made.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas, lovely Queen,” said Adrian, wrestling strongly, but vainly, with + the bitter disappointment he felt—“I cannot be one of your happy + circle; I am in myself a violation of your law. I am filled with but one + sad and anxious thought, to which all mirth would seem impiety. I am a + seeker amongst the living and the dead for one being of whose fate I am + uncertain; and it was only by the words that fell from my fair conductor, + that I have been decoyed hither from my mournful task. Suffer me, gracious + lady, to return to Florence.” + </p> + <p> + The Queen looked in mute vexation towards the dark-eyed Mariana, who + returned the glance by one equally expressive, and then suddenly stepping + up to Adrian she said,— + </p> + <p> + “But, Signor, if I should still keep my promise, if I should be able to + satisfy thee of the health and safety of—of Irene.” + </p> + <p> + “Irene!” echoed Adrian in surprise, forgetful at the moment that he had + before revealed the name of her he sought—“Irene—Irene di + Gabrini, sister of the once renowned Rienzi!” + </p> + <p> + “The same,” replied Mariana, quickly; “I know her, as I told you. Nay, + Signor, I do not deceive thee. It is true that I cannot bring thee to her; + but better as it is,—she went away many days ago to one of the towns + of Lombardy, which, they say, the Pestilence has not yet pierced. Now, + noble sir, is not your heart lightened? and will you so soon be a deserter + from the Court of Loveliness; and perhaps,” she added, with a soft look + from her large dark eyes, “of Love?” + </p> + <p> + “Dare I, in truth, believe you, Lady?” said Adrian, all delighted, yet + still half doubting. + </p> + <p> + “Would I deceive a true lover, as methinks you are? Be assured. Nay, + Queen, receive your subject.” + </p> + <p> + The Queen extended her hand to Adrian, and led him to the group that still + stood on the grass at a little distance. They welcomed him as a brother, + and soon forgave his abstracted courtesies, in compliment to his good mien + and illustrious name. + </p> + <p> + The Queen clapped her hands, and the party again ranged themselves on the + sward. Each lady beside each gallant. “You, Mariana, if not fatigued,” + said the Queen, “shall take the lute and silence these noisy grasshoppers, + which chirp about us with as much pretension as if they were nightingales. + Sing, sweet subject, sing; and let it be the song our dear friend, Signor + Visdomini, (I know not if this be the same Visdomini who, three years + afterwards, with one of the Medici, conducted so gallant a reinforcement + to Scarperia, then besieged by Visconti d’Oleggio.) made for a kind of + inaugural anthem to such as we admitted to our court.” + </p> + <p> + Mariana, who had reclined herself by the side of Adrian, took up the lute, + and, after a short prelude, sung the words thus imperfectly translated:— + </p> + <p> + The Song of the Florentine Lady. + </p> + <p> + Enjoy the more the smiles of noon If doubtful be the morrow; And know the + Fort of Life is soon Betray’d to Death by Sorrow! + </p> + <p> + Death claims us all—then, Grief, away! We’ll own no meaner master; + The clouds that darken round the day But bring the night the faster. + </p> + <p> + Love—feast—be merry while on earth, Such, Grave, should be thy + moral! Ev’n Death himself is friends with Mirth, And veils the tomb with + laurel. (At that time, in Italy, the laurel was frequently planted over + the dead.) + </p> + <p> + While gazing on the eyes I love, New life to mine is given—If joy + the lot of saints above, Joy fits us best for Heaven. + </p> + <p> + To this song, which was much applauded, succeeded those light and witty + tales in which the Italian novelists furnished Voltaire and Marmontel with + a model—each, in his or her turn, taking up the discourse, and with + an equal dexterity avoiding every lugubrious image or mournful reflection + that might remind those graceful idlers of the vicinity of Death. At any + other time the temper and accomplishments of the young Lord di Castello + would have fitted him to enjoy and to shine in that Arcadian court. But + now he in vain sought to dispel the gloom from his brow, and the anxious + thought from his heart. He revolved the intelligence he had received, + wondered, guessed, hoped, and dreaded still; and if for a moment his mind + returned to the scene about him, his nature, too truly poetical for the + false sentiment of the place, asked itself in what, save the polished + exterior and the graceful circumstance, the mirth that he now so + reluctantly witnessed differed from the brutal revels in the convent of + Santa Maria—each alike in its motive, though so differing in the + manner—equally callous and equally selfish, coining horror into + enjoyment. The fair Mariana, whose partner had been reft from her, as the + Queen had related, was in no mind to lose the new one she had gained. She + pressed upon him from time to time the wine-flask and the fruits; and in + those unmeaning courtesies her hand gently lingered upon his. At length, + the hour arrived when the companions retired to the Palace, during the + fiercer heats of noon—to come forth again in the declining sun, to + sup by the side of the fountain, to dance, to sing, and to make merry by + torchlight and the stars till the hour of rest. But Adrian, not willing to + continue the entertainment, no sooner found himself in the apartment to + which he was conducted, than he resolved to effect a silent escape, as + under all circumstances the shortest, and not perhaps the least courteous, + farewell left to him. Accordingly, when all seemed quiet and hushed in the + repose common to the inhabitants of the South during that hour, he left + his apartment, descended the stairs, passed the outer court, and was + already at the gate, when he heard himself called by a voice that spoke + vexation and alarm. He turned to behold Mariana. + </p> + <p> + “Why, how now, Signor di Castello, is our company so unpleasing, is our + music so jarring, or are our brows so wrinkled, that you should fly as the + traveller flies from the witches he surprises at Benevento? Nay, you + cannot mean to leave us yet?” + </p> + <p> + “Fair dame,” returned the cavalier, somewhat disconcerted, “it is in vain + that I seek to rally my mournful spirits, or to fit myself for the court + to which nothing sad should come. Your laws hang about me like a culprit—better + timely flight than harsh expulsion.” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke he moved on, and would have passed the gate, but Mariana + caught his arm. + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said she, softly; “are there no eyes of dark light, and no neck of + wintry snow, that can compensate to thee for the absent one? Tarry and + forget, as doubtless in absence even thou art forgotten!” + </p> + <p> + “Lady,” answered Adrian, with great gravity, not unmixed with an + ill-suppressed disdain, “I have not sojourned long enough amidst the + sights and sounds of woe, to blunt my heart and spirit into callousness to + all around. Enjoy, if thou canst, and gather the rank roses of the + sepulchre; but to me, haunted still by funeral images, Beauty fails to + bring delight, and Love,—even holy love—seems darkened by the + Shadow of Death. Pardon me, and farewell.” + </p> + <p> + “Go, then,” said the Florentine, stung and enraged at his coldness; “go + and find your mistress amidst the associations on which it pleases your + philosophy to dwell. I did but deceive thee, blind fool! as I had hoped + for thine own good, when I told thee Irene—(was that her name?)—was + gone from Florence. Of her I know nought, and heard nought, save from + thee. Go back and search the vault, and see whether thou lovest her + still!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0041" id="link2HCH0041"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 6.IV. We Obtain What We Seek, and Know it Not. + </h2> + <p> + In the fiercest heat of the day, and on foot, Adrian returned to Florence. + As he approached the city, all that festive and gallant scene he had + quitted seemed to him like a dream; a vision of the gardens and bowers of + an enchantress, from which he woke abruptly as a criminal may wake on the + morning of his doom to see the scaffold and the deathsman;—so much + did each silent and lonely step into the funeral city bring back his + bewildered thoughts at once to life and to death. The parting words of + Mariana sounded like a knell at his heart. And now as he passed on—the + heat of the day, the lurid atmosphere, long fatigue, alternate exhaustion + and excitement, combining with the sickness of disappointment, the + fretting consciousness of precious moments irretrievably lost, and his + utter despair of forming any systematic mode of search—fever began + rapidly to burn through his veins. His temples felt oppressed as with the + weight of a mountain; his lips parched with intolerable thirst; his + strength seemed suddenly to desert him; and it was with pain and labour + that he dragged one languid limb after the other. + </p> + <p> + “I feel it,” thought he, with the loathing nausea and shivering dread with + which nature struggles ever against death; “I feel it upon me—the + Devouring and the Viewless—I shall perish, and without saving her; + nor shall even one grave contain us!” + </p> + <p> + But these thoughts served rapidly to augment the disease which began to + prey upon him; and ere he reached the interior of the city, even thought + itself forsook him. The images of men and houses grew indistinct and + shadowy before his eyes; the burning pavement became unsteady and reeling + beneath his feet; delirium gathered over him, and he went on his way + muttering broken and incoherent words; the few who met fled from him in + dismay. Even the monks, still continuing their solemn and sad processions, + passed with a murmured bene vobis to the other side from that on which his + steps swerved and faltered. And from a booth at the corner of a street, + four Becchini, drinking together, fixed upon him from their black masks + the gaze that vultures fix upon some dying wanderer of the desert. Still + he crept on, stretching out his arms like a man in the dark, and seeking + with the vague sense that yet struggled against the gathering delirium, to + find out the mansion in which he had fixed his home; though many as fair + to live, and as meet to die in, stood with open portals before and beside + his path. + </p> + <p> + “Irene, Irene!” he cried, sometimes in a muttered and low tone, sometimes + in a wild and piercing shriek, “where art thou? Where? I come to snatch + thee from them; they shall not have thee, the foul and ugly fiends! Pah! + how the air smells of dead flesh! Irene, Irene! we will away to mine own + palace and the heavenly lake—Irene!” + </p> + <p> + While thus benighted, and thus exclaiming, two females suddenly emerged + from a neighbouring house, masked and mantled. + </p> + <p> + “Vain wisdom!” said the taller and slighter of the two, whose mantle, it + is here necessary to observe, was of a deep blue, richly broidered with + silver, of a shape and a colour not common in Florence, but usual in Rome, + where the dress of ladies of the higher rank was singularly bright in hue + and ample in fold—thus differing from the simpler and more slender + draperies of the Tuscan fashion—“Vain wisdom, to fly a relentless + and certain doom!” + </p> + <p> + “Why, thou wouldst not have us hold the same home with three of the dead + in the next chamber—strangers too to us—when Florence has so + many empty halls? Trust me, we shall not walk far ere we suit ourselves + with a safer lodgment.” + </p> + <p> + “Hitherto, indeed, we have been miraculously preserved,” sighed the other, + whose voice and shape were those of extreme youth; “yet would that we knew + where to fly—what mount, what wood, what cavern, held my brother and + his faithful Nina! I am sick with horrors!” + </p> + <p> + “Irene, Irene! Well then, if thou art at Milan or some Lombard town, why + do I linger here? To horse, to horse! Oh, no! no!—not the horse with + the bells! not the death-cart.” With a cry, a shriek, louder than the + loudest of the sick man’s, broke that young female away from her + companion. It seemed as if a single step took her to the side of Adrian. + She caught his arm—she looked in his face—she met his + unconscious eyes bright with a fearful fire. “It has seized him!”—(she + then said in a deep but calm tone)—“the Plague!” + </p> + <p> + “Away, away! are you mad?” cried her companion; “hence, hence,—touch + me not now thou hast touched him—go!—here we part!” + </p> + <p> + “Help me to bear him somewhere, see, he faints, he droops, he falls!—help + me, dear Signora, for pity, for the love of God!” + </p> + <p> + But, wholly possessed by the selfish fear which overcame all humanity in + that miserable time, the elder woman, though naturally kind, pitiful, and + benevolent, fled rapidly away, and soon vanished. Thus left alone with + Adrian, who had now, in the fierceness of the fever that preyed within + him, fallen on the ground, the strength and nerve of that young girl did + not forsake her. She tore off the heavy mantle which encumbered her arms, + and cast it from her; and then, lifting up the face of her lover—for + who but Irene was that weak woman, thus shrinking not from the contagion + of death?—she supported him on her breast, and called aloud and + again for help. At length the Becchini, in the booth before noticed, + (hardened in their profession, and who, thus hardened, better than the + most cautious, escaped the pestilence,) lazily approached—“Quicker, + quicker, for Christ’s love!” said Irene. “I have much gold; I will reward + you well: help me to bear him under the nearest roof.” + </p> + <p> + “Leave him to us, young lady: we have had our eye upon him,” said one of + the gravediggers. “We’ll do our duty by him, first and last.” + </p> + <p> + “No—no! touch not his head—that is my care. There, I will help + you; so,—now then,—but be gentle!” + </p> + <p> + Assisted by these portentous officers, Irene, who would not release her + hold, but seemed to watch over the beloved eyes and lips, (set and closed + as they were,) as if to look back the soul from parting, bore Adrian into + a neighbouring house, and laid him on a bed; from which Irene (preserving + as only women do, in such times, the presence of mind and vigilant + providence which make so sublime a contrast with their keen + susceptibilities) caused them first to cast off the draperies and + clothing, which might retain additional infection. She then despatched + them for new furniture, and for whatsoever leech money might yet bribe to + a duty, now chiefly abandoned to those heroic Brotherhoods who, however + vilified in modern judgment by the crimes of some unworthy members, were + yet, in the dark times, the best, the bravest, and the holiest agents, to + whom God ever delegated the power to resist the oppressor—to feed + the hungry—to minister to woe; and who, alone, amidst that fiery + Pestilence, (loosed, as it were, a demon from the abyss, to shiver into + atoms all that binds the world to Virtue and to Law,) seemed to awaken, as + by the sound of an angel’s trumpet, to that noblest Chivalry of the Cross—whose + faith is the scorn of self—whose hope is beyond the Lazar-house—whose + feet, already winded for immortality, trample, with a conqueror’s march, + upon the graves of Death! + </p> + <p> + While this the ministry and the office of love,—along that street in + which Adrian and Irene had met at last—came singing, reeling, + roaring, the dissolute and abandoned crew who had fixed their quarters in + the Convent of Santa Maria de’ Pazzi, their bravo chief at their head, and + a nun (no longer in nun’s garments) upon either arm. “A health to the + Plague!” shouted the ruffian: “A health to the Plague!” echoed his frantic + Bacchanals. + </p> + <p> + “A health to the Plague, may she ever, as now, Loose the rogue from his + chain, and the nun from her vow; To the gaoler a sword—to the + captive a key, Hurrah for Earth’s Curse! ‘tis a blessing to me.” + </p> + <p> + “Holla!” cried the chief, stopping; “here, Margherita; here’s a brave + cloak for thee, my girl: silver enow on it to fill thy purse, if it ever + grow empty; which it may, if ever the Plague grow slack.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said the girl, who, amidst all the havoc of debauch, retained much + of youth and beauty in her form and face; “nay, Guidotto; perhaps it has + infection.” + </p> + <p> + “Pooh, child, silver never infects. Clap it on, clap it on. Besides, fate + is fate, and when it is thine hour there will be other means besides the + gavocciolo.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he seized the mantle, threw it roughly over her shoulders, and + dragged her on as before, half pleased with the finery, half frightened + with the danger; while gradually died away, along the lurid air and the + mournful streets, the chant of that most miserable mirth. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0042" id="link2HCH0042"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 6.V. The Error. + </h2> + <p> + For three days, the fatal three days, did Adrian remain bereft of strength + and sense. But he was not smitten by the scourge which his devoted and + generous nurse had anticipated. It was a fierce and dangerous fever, + brought on by the great fatigue, restlessness, and terrible agitation he + had undergone. + </p> + <p> + No professional mediciner could be found to attend him; but a good friar, + better perhaps skilled in the healing art than many who claimed its + monopoly, visited him daily. And in the long and frequent absences to + which his other and numerous duties compelled the monk, there was one ever + at hand to smooth the pillow, to wipe the brow, to listen to the moan, to + watch the sleep. And even in that dismal office, when, in the frenzy of + the sufferer, her name, coupled with terms of passionate endearment, broke + from his lips, a thrill of strange pleasure crossed the heart of the + betrothed, which she chid as if it were a crime. But even the most + unearthly love is selfish in the rapture of being loved! Words cannot + tell, heart cannot divine, the mingled emotions that broke over her when, + in some of these incoherent ravings, she dimly understood that for her the + city had been sought, the death dared, the danger incurred. And as then + bending passionately to kiss that burning brow, her tears fell fast over + the idol of her youth, the fountains from which they gushed were those, + fathomless and countless, which a life could not weep away. Not an impulse + of the human and the woman heart that was not stirred; the adoring + gratitude, the meek wonder thus to be loved, while deeming it so simple a + merit thus to love;—as if all sacrifice in her were a thing of + course,—to her, a virtue nature could not paragon, worlds could not + repay! And there he lay, the victim to his own fearless faith, helpless—dependent + upon her—a thing between life and death, to thank, to serve—to + be proud of, yet protect, to compassionate, yet revere—the saver, to + be saved! Never seemed one object to demand at once from a single heart so + many and so profound emotions; the romantic enthusiasm of the girl—the + fond idolatry of the bride—the watchful providence of the mother + over her child. + </p> + <p> + And strange to say, with all the excitement of that lonely watch, scarcely + stirring from his side, taking food only that her strength might not fail + her,—unable to close her eyes,—though, from the same cause, + she would fain have taken rest, when slumber fell upon her charge—with + all such wear and tear of frame and heart, she seemed wonderfully + supported. And the holy man marvelled, in each visit, to see the cheek of + the nurse still fresh, and her eye still bright. In her own superstition + she thought and felt that Heaven gifted her with a preternatural power to + be true to so sacred a charge; and in this fancy she did not wholly err:—for + Heaven did gift her with that diviner power, when it planted in so soft a + heart the enduring might and energy of Affection! The friar had visited + the sick man late on the third night, and administered to him a strong + sedative. “This night,” said he to Irene, “will be the crisis: should he + awaken, as I trust he may, with a returning consciousness, and a calm + pulse, he will live; if not, young daughter, prepare for the worst. But + should you note any turn in the disease, that may excite alarm, or require + my attendance, this scroll will inform you where I am, if God spare me + still, at each hour of the night and morning.” + </p> + <p> + The monk retired, and Irene resumed her watch. + </p> + <p> + The sleep of Adrian was at first broken and interrupted—his + features, his exclamations, his gestures, all evinced great agony, whether + mental or bodily: it seemed, as perhaps it was, a fierce and doubtful + struggle between life and death for the conquest of the sleeper. Patient, + silent, breathing but by long-drawn gasps, Irene sate at the bed-head. The + lamp was removed to the further end of the chamber, and its ray, shaded by + the draperies, did not suffice to give to her gaze more than the outline + of the countenance she watched. In that awful suspense, all the thoughts + that hitherto had stirred her mind lay hushed and mute. She was only + sensible to that unutterable fear which few of us have been happy enough + not to know. That crushing weight under which we can scarcely breathe or + move, the avalanche over us, freezing and suspended, which we cannot + escape from, beneath which, every moment, we may be buried and + overwhelmed. The whole destiny of life was in the chances of that single + night! It was just as Adrian at last seemed to glide into a deeper and + serener slumber, that the bells of the death-cart broke with their boding + knell the palpable silence of the streets. Now hushed, now revived, as the + cart stopped for its gloomy passengers, and coming nearer and nearer after + every pause. At length she heard the heavy wheels stop under the very + casement, and a voice deep and muffled calling aloud, “Bring out the + dead!” She rose, and with a noiseless step, passed to secure the door, + when the dull lamp gleamed upon the dark and shrouded forms of the + Becchini. + </p> + <p> + “You have not marked the door, nor set out the body,” said one gruffly; + “but this is the third night! He is ready for us.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, he sleeps—away, quick, it is not the Plague that seized him.” + </p> + <p> + “Not the Plague?” growled the Becchino in a disappointed tone; “I thought + no other illness dared encroach upon the rights of the gavocciolo!” + </p> + <p> + “Go—here’s money; leave us.” + </p> + <p> + And the grisly carrier sullenly withdrew. The cart moved on, the bell + renewed its summons, till slowly and faintly the dreadful larum died in + the distance. + </p> + <p> + Shading the lamp with her hand, Irene stole to the bed side, fearful that + the sound and the intrusion had disturbed the slumberer. But his face was + still locked, as in a vice, with that iron sleep. He stirred not—the + breath scarcely passed his lips—she felt his pulse, as the wan hand + lay on the coverlid—there was a slight beat—she was contented—removed + the light, and, retiring to a corner of the room, placed the little cross + suspended round her neck upon the table, and prayed, in her intense + suffering, to Him who had known death, and who—Son of Heaven though + he was, and Sovereign of the Seraphim—had also prayed, in his + earthly travail, that the cup might pass away. + </p> + <p> + The Morning broke, not, as in the North, slowly and through shadow, but + with the sudden glory with which in those climates Day leaps upon earth—like + a giant from his sleep. A sudden smile—a burnished glow—and + night had vanished. Adrian still slept; not a muscle seemed to have + stirred; the sleep was even heavier than before; the silence became a + burthen upon the air. Now, in that exceeding torpor so like unto death, + the solitary watcher became alarmed and terrified. Time passed—morning + glided to noon—still not a sound nor motion. The sun was midway in + Heaven—the Friar came not. And now again touching Adrian’s pulse, + she felt no flutter—she gazed on him, appalled and confounded; + surely nought living could be so still and pale. “Was it indeed sleep, + might it not be—” She turned away, sick and frozen; her tongue clove + to her lips. Why did the father tarry?—she would go to him—she + would learn the worst—she could forbear no longer. She glanced over + the scroll the Monk had left her: “From sunrise,” it said, “I shall be at + the Convent of the Dominicans. Death has stricken many of the brethren.” + The Convent was at some distance, but she knew the spot, and fear would + wing her steps. She gave one wistful look at the sleeper and rushed from + the house. “I shall see thee again presently,” she murmured. Alas! what + hope can calculate beyond the moment? And who shall claim the tenure of + ‘The Again?’ + </p> + <p> + It was not many minutes after Irene had left the room, ere, with a long + sigh, Adrian opened his eyes—an altered and another man; the fever + was gone, the reviving pulse beat low indeed, but calm. His mind was once + more master of his body, and, though weak and feeble, the danger was past, + and life and intellect regained. + </p> + <p> + “I have slept long,” he muttered; “and oh, such dreams! And methought I + saw Irene, but could not speak to her, and while I attempted to grasp her, + her face changed, her form dilated, and I was in the clutch of the foul + gravedigger. It is late—the sun is high—I must be up and + stirring. Irene is in Lombardy. No, no; that was a lie, a wicked lie; she + is at Florence, I must renew my search.” + </p> + <p> + As this duty came to his remembrance, he rose from the bed—he was + amazed at his own debility: at first he could not stand without support + from the wall; by degrees, however, he so far regained the mastery of his + limbs as to walk, though with effort and pain. A ravening hunger preyed + upon him, he found some scanty and light food in the chamber, which he + devoured eagerly. And with scarce less eagerness laved his enfeebled form + and haggard face with the water that stood at hand. He now felt refreshed + and invigorated, and began to indue his garments, which he found thrown on + a heap beside the bed. He gazed with surprise and a kind of + self-compassion upon his emaciated hands and shrunken limbs, and began now + to comprehend that he must have had some severe but unconscious illness. + “Alone, too,” thought he; “no one near to tend me! Nature my only nurse! + But alas! alas! how long a time may thus have been wasted, and my adored + Irene—quick, quick, not a moment more will I lose.” + </p> + <p> + He soon found himself in the open street; the air revived him; and that + morning had sprung up the blessed breeze, the first known for weeks. He + wandered on very slowly and feebly till he came to a broad square, from + which, in the vista, might be seen one of the principal gates of Florence, + and the fig-trees and olive-groves beyond, it was then that a Pilgrim of + tall stature approached towards him as from the gate; his hood was thrown + back, and gave to view a countenance of great but sad command; a face, in + whose high features, massive brow, and proud, unshrinking gaze, shaded by + an expression of melancholy more stern than soft, Nature seemed to have + written majesty, and Fate disaster. As in that silent and dreary place, + these two, the only tenants of the street, now encountered, Adrian stopped + abruptly, and said in a startled and doubting voice: “Do I dream still, or + do I behold Rienzi?” + </p> + <p> + The Pilgrim paused also, as he heard the name, and gazing long on the + attenuated features of the young lord, said: “I am he that was Rienzi! and + you, pale shadow, is it in this grave of Italy that I meet with the gay + and high Colonna? Alas, young friend,” he added, in a more relaxed and + kindly voice, “hath the Plague not spared the flower of the Roman nobles? + Come, I, the cruel and the harsh Tribune, I will be thy nurse: he who + might have been my brother, shall yet claim from me a brother’s care.” + </p> + <p> + With these words he wound his arm tenderly round Adrian; and the young + noble, touched by his compassion, and agitated by the surprise, leaned + upon Rienzi’s breast in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Poor youth,” resumed the Tribune, for so, since rather fallen than + deposed, he may yet be called; “I ever loved the young, (my brother died + young;) and you more than most. What fatality brought thee hither?” + </p> + <p> + “Irene!” replied Adrian, falteringly. + </p> + <p> + “Is it so, really? Art thou a Colonna, and yet prize the fallen? The same + duty has brought me also to the city of Death. From the furthest south—over + the mountains of the robber—through the fastnesses of my foes—through + towns in which the herald proclaimed in my ear the price of my head—I + have passed hither, on foot and alone, safe under the wings of the + Almighty One. Young man, thou shouldst have left this task to one who + bears a wizard’s life, and whom Heaven and Earth yet reserve for an + appointed end!” + </p> + <p> + The Tribune said this in a deep and inward voice; and in his raised eye + and solemn brow might be seen how much his reverses had deepened his + fanaticism, and added even to the sanguineness of his hopes. + </p> + <p> + “But,” asked Adrian, withdrawing gently from Rienzi’s arm, “thou knowest, + then, where Irene is to be found; let us go together. Lose not a moment in + this talk; time is of inestimable value, and a moment in this city is + often but the border to eternity.” + </p> + <p> + “Right,” said Rienzi, awakening to his object. “But fear not, I have + dreamt that I shall save her, the gem and darling of my house. Fear not, I + have no fear.” + </p> + <p> + “Know you where to seek?” said Adrian, impatiently; “the Convent holds far + other guests.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! so said my dream!” + </p> + <p> + “Talk not now of dreams,” said the lover; “but if you have no other guide, + let us part at once in quest of her. I will take yonder street, you take + the opposite, and at sunset let us meet in the same spot.” + </p> + <p> + “Rash man!” said the Tribune, with great solemnity; “scoff not at the + visions which Heaven makes a parable to its Chosen. Thou seekest counsel + of thy human wisdom; I, less presumptuous, follow the hand of the + mysterious Providence, moving even now before my gaze as a pillar of light + through the wilderness of dread. Ay, meet we here at sunset, and prove + whose guide is the most unerring. If my dream tell me true, I shall see my + sister living, ere the sun reach yonder hill, and by a church dedicated to + St. Mark.” + </p> + <p> + The grave earnestness with which Rienzi spoke impressed Adrian with a hope + which his reason would not acknowledge. He saw him depart with that proud + and stately step to which his sweeping garments gave a yet more imposing + dignity, and then passed up the street to the right hand. He had not got + half way when he felt himself pulled by the mantle. He turned, and saw the + shapeless mask of a Becchino. + </p> + <p> + “I feared you were sped, and that another had cheated me of my office,” + said the gravedigger, “seeing that you returned not to the old Prince’s + palace. You don’t know me from the rest of us I see, but I am the one you + told to seek—” + </p> + <p> + “Irene!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Irene di Gabrini; you promised ample reward.” + </p> + <p> + “You shall have it.” + </p> + <p> + “Follow me.” + </p> + <p> + The Becchino strode on, and soon arrived at a mansion. He knocked twice at + the porter’s entrance, an old woman cautiously opened the door. “Fear not, + good aunt,” said the gravedigger; “this is the young Lord I spoke to thee + of. Thou sayest thou hadst two ladies in the palace, who alone survived of + all the lodgers, and their names were Bianca de Medici, and—what was + the other?” + </p> + <p> + “Irene di Gabrini, a Roman lady. But I told thee this was the fourth day + they left the house, terrified by the deaths within it.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou didst so: and was there anything remarkable in the dress of the + Signora di Gabrini?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I have told thee: a blue mantle, such as I have rarely seen, wrought + with silver.” + </p> + <p> + “Was the broidery that of stars, silver stars,” exclaimed Adrian, “with a + sun in the centre?” + </p> + <p> + “It was.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! alas! the arms of the Tribune’s family! I remember how I praised + the mantle the first day she wore it—the day on which we were + betrothed!” And the lover at once conjectured the secret sentiment which + had induced Irene to retain thus carefully a robe so endeared by + association. + </p> + <p> + “You know no more of your lodgers?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing.” + </p> + <p> + “And is this all you have learned, knave?” cried Adrian. + </p> + <p> + “Patience. I must bring you from proof to proof, and link to link, in + order to win my reward. Follow, Signor.” + </p> + <p> + The Becchino then passing through the several lanes and streets, arrived + at another house of less magnificent size and architecture. Again he + tapped thrice at the parlour door, and this time came forth a man + withered, old, and palsied, whom death seemed to disdain to strike. + </p> + <p> + “Signor Astuccio,” said the Becchino, “pardon me; but I told thee I might + trouble thee again. This is the gentleman who wants to know, what is often + best unknown—but that’s not my affair. Did a lady—young and + beautiful—with dark hair, and of a slender form, enter this house, + stricken with the first symptom of the Plague, three days since?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, thou knowest that well enough; and thou knowest still better, that + she has departed these two days: it was quick work with her, quicker than + with most!” + </p> + <p> + “Did she wear anything remarkable?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, troublesome man: a blue cloak, with stars of silver.” + </p> + <p> + “Couldst thou guess aught of her previous circumstances?” + </p> + <p> + “No, save that she raved much about the nunnery of Santa Maria de’ Pazzi, + and bravos, and sacrilege.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you satisfied, Signor?” asked the gravedigger, with an air of + triumph, turning to Adrian. “But no, I will satisfy thee better, if thou + hast courage. Wilt thou follow?” + </p> + <p> + “I comprehend thee; lead on. Courage! What is there on earth now to fear?” + </p> + <p> + Muttering to himself, “Ay, leave me alone. I have a head worth something; + I ask no gentleman to go by my word; I will make his own eyes the judge of + what my trouble is worth,” the gravedigger now led the way through one of + the gates a little out of the city. And here, under a shed, sat six of his + ghastly and ill-omened brethren, with spades and pick-axes at their feet. + </p> + <p> + His guide now turned round to Adrian, whose face was set, and resolute in + despair. + </p> + <p> + “Fair Signor,” said he, with some touch of lingering compassion, “wouldst + thou really convince thine own eyes and heart?—the sight may appal, + the contagion may destroy, thee,—if, indeed, as it seems to me, + Death has not already written ‘mine’ upon thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Raven of bode and woe!” answered Adrian, “seest thou not that all I + shrink from is thy voice and aspect? Show me her I seek, living or dead.” + </p> + <p> + “I will show her to you, then,” said the Becchino, sullenly, “such as two + nights since she was committed to my charge. Line and lineament may + already be swept away, for the Plague hath a rapid besom; but I have left + that upon her by which you will know the Becchino is no liar. Bring hither + the torches, comrades, and lift the door. Never stare; it’s the + gentleman’s whim, and he’ll pay it well.” + </p> + <p> + Turning to the right while Adrian mechanically followed his conductors, a + spectacle whose dire philosophy crushes as with a wheel all the pride of + mortal man—the spectacle of that vault in which earth hides all that + on earth flourished, rejoiced, exulted—awaited his eye! + </p> + <p> + The Becchini lifted a ponderous grate, lowered their torches (scarcely + needed, for through the aperture rushed, with a hideous glare, the light + of the burning sun,) and motioned to Adrian to advance. He stood upon the + summit of the abyss and gazed below. + </p> + <p> + It was a large deep and circular space, like the bottom of an exhausted + well. In niches cut into the walls of earth around, lay, duly coffined, + those who had been the earliest victims of the plague, when the Becchino’s + market was not yet glutted, and priest followed, and friend mourned the + dead. But on the floor below, there was the loathsome horror! Huddled and + matted together—some naked, some in shrouds already black and rotten—lay + the later guests, the unshriven and unblest! The torches, the sun, + streamed broad and red over Corruption in all its stages, from the pale + blue tint and swollen shape, to the moistened undistinguishable mass, or + the riddled bones, where yet clung, in strips and tatters, the black and + mangled flesh. In many, the face remained almost perfect, while the rest + of the body was but bone; the long hair, the human face, surmounting the + grisly skeleton. There was the infant, still on the mother’s breast; there + was the lover, stretched across the dainty limbs of his adored! The rats, + (for they clustered in numbers to that feast,) disturbed, not scared, sate + up from their horrid meal as the light glimmered over them, and thousands + of them lay round, stark, and dead, poisoned by that they fed on! There, + too, the wild satire of the gravediggers had cast, though stripped of + their gold and jewels, the emblems that spoke of departed rank;—the + broken wand of the Councillor; the General’s baton; the Priestly Mitre! + The foul and livid exhalations gathered like flesh itself, fungous and + putrid, upon the walls, and the— + </p> + <p> + But who shall detail the ineffable and unimaginable horrors that reigned + over the Palace where the Great King received the prisoners whom the sword + of the Pestilence had subdued? + </p> + <p> + But through all that crowded court—crowded with beauty and with + birth, with the strength of the young and the honours of the old, and the + valour of the brave, and the wisdom of the learned, and the wit of the + scorner, and the piety of the faithful—one only figure attracted + Adrian’s eye. Apart from the rest, a latecomer—the long locks + streaming far and dark over arm and breast—lay a female, the face + turned partially aside, the little seen not recognisable even by the + mother of the dead,—but wrapped round in that fatal mantle, on + which, though blackened and tarnished, was yet visible the starry heraldry + assumed by those who claimed the name of the proud Tribune of Rome. Adrian + saw no more—he fell back in the arms of the gravediggers: when he + recovered, he was still without the gates of Florence—reclined upon + a green mound—his guide stood beside him—holding his steed by + the bridle as it grazed patiently on the neglected grass. The other + brethren of the axe had resumed their seat under the shed. + </p> + <p> + “So, you have revived! Ah! I thought it was only the effluvia; few stand + it as we do. And so, as your search is over, deeming you would now be + quitting Florence if you have any sense left to you, I went for your good + horse. I have fed him since your departure from the palace. Indeed I + fancied he would be my perquisite, but there are plenty as good. Come, + young sir, mount. I feel a pity for you, I know not why, except that you + are the only one I have met for weeks who seem to care for another more + than for yourself. I hope you are satisfied now that I showed some brains, + eh! in your service; and as I have kept my promise, you’ll keep yours.” + </p> + <p> + “Friend,” said Adrian, “here is gold enough to make thee rich; here, too, + is a jewel that merchants will tell thee princes might vie to purchase. + Thou seemest honest, despite thy calling, or thou mightest have robbed and + murdered me long since. Do me one favour more.” + </p> + <p> + “By my poor mother’s soul, yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Take yon—yon clay from that fearful place. Inter it in some quiet + and remote spot—apart—alone! You promise me?—you swear + it?—it is well! And now help me on my horse. Farewell Italy, and if + I die not with this stroke, may I die as befits at once honour and despair—with + trumpet and banner round me—in a well-fought field against a worthy + foe!—Save a knightly death, nothing is left to live for!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0052" id="link2H_4_0052"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK VII. THE PRISON. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Fu rinchiuso in una torre grossa e larga; avea libri assai, + suo Tito Livio, sue storie di Roma, la Bibbia.” &c.—“Vita + di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. ii. c. 13. + + “He was immured in a high and spacious tower; he had books + enough, his Titus Livius, his histories of Rome, the Bible,” + &c. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0043" id="link2HCH0043"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 7.I. Avignon.—The Two Pages.—The Stranger Beauty. + </h2> + <p> + There is this difference between the Drama of Shakspeare, and that of + almost every other master of the same art; that in the first, the + catastrophe is rarely produced by one single cause—one simple and + continuous chain of events. Various and complicated agencies work out the + final end. Unfettered by the rules of time and place, each time, each + place depicted, presents us with its appropriate change of action, or of + actors. Sometimes the interest seems to halt, to turn aside, to bring us + unawares upon objects hitherto unnoticed, or upon qualities of the + characters hitherto hinted at, not developed. But, in reality, the pause + in the action is but to collect, to gather up, and to grasp, all the + varieties of circumstance that conduce to the Great Result: and the art of + fiction is only deserted for the fidelity of history. Whoever seeks to + place before the world the true representation of a man’s life and times, + and, enlarging the Dramatic into the Epic, extends his narrative over the + vicissitudes of years, will find himself unconsciously, in this, the + imitator of Shakspeare. New characters, each conducive to the end—new + scenes, each leading to the last, rise before him as he proceeds, + sometimes seeming to the reader to delay, even while they advance, the + dread catastrophe. The sacrificial procession sweeps along, swelled by new + comers, losing many that first joined it; before, at last, the same as a + whole, but differing in its components, the crowd reach the fated bourn of + the Altar and the Victim! + </p> + <p> + It is five years after the date of the events I have recorded, and my + story conveys us to the Papal Court at Avignon—that tranquil seat of + power, to which the successors of St. Peter had transplanted the luxury, + the pomp, and the vices, of the Imperial City. Secure from the fraud or + violence of a powerful and barbarous nobility, the courtiers of the See + surrendered themselves to a holyday of delight—their repose was + devoted to enjoyment, and Avignon presented, at that day, perhaps the + gayest and most voluptuous society of Europe. The elegance of Clement VI. + had diffused an air of literary refinement over the grosser pleasures of + the place, and the spirit of Petrarch still continued to work its way + through the councils of faction and the orgies of debauch. + </p> + <p> + Innocent VI. had lately succeeded Clement, and whatever his own claims to + learning, (Matteo Villani (lib. iii. cap. 44) says, that Innocent VI. had + not much pretension to learning. He is reported, however, by other + authorities, cited by Zefirino Re, to have been “eccellente canonista.” He + had been a professor in the University of Toulouse.) he, at least, + appreciated knowledge and intellect in others; so that the graceful + pedantry of the time continued to mix itself with the pursuit of pleasure. + The corruption which reigned through the whole place was too confirmed to + yield to the example of Innocent, himself a man of simple habits and + exemplary life. Though, like his predecessor, obedient to the policy of + France, Innocent possessed a hard and an extended ambition. Deeply + concerned for the interests of the Church, he formed the project of + confirming and re-establishing her shaken dominion in Italy; and he + regarded the tyrants of the various states as the principal obstacles to + his ecclesiastical ambition. Nor was this the policy of Innocent VI. + alone. With such exceptions as peculiar circumstances necessarily + occasioned, the Papal See was, upon the whole, friendly to the political + liberties of Italy. The Republics of the Middle Ages grew up under the + shadow of the Church; and there, as elsewhere, it was found, contrary to a + vulgar opinion, that Religion, however prostituted and perverted, served + for the general protection of civil freedom,—raised the lowly, and + resisted the oppressor. + </p> + <p> + At this period there appeared at Avignon a lady of singular and matchless + beauty. She had come with a slender but well appointed retinue from + Florence, but declared herself of Neapolitan birth; the widow of a noble + of the brilliant court of the unfortunate Jane. Her name was Cesarini. + Arrived at a place where, even in the citadel of Christianity, Venus + retained her ancient empire, where Love made the prime business of life, + and to be beautiful was to be of power; the Signora Cesarini had scarcely + appeared in public before she saw at her feet half the rank and gallantry + of Avignon. Her female attendants were beset with bribes and billets; and + nightly, beneath her lattice, was heard the plaintive serenade. She + entered largely into the gay dissipation of the town, and her charms + shared the celebrity of the hour with the verse of Petrarch. But though + she frowned on none, none could claim the monopoly of her smiles. Her fair + fame was as yet unblemished; but if any might presume beyond the rest, she + seemed to have selected rather from ambition than love, and Giles, the + warlike Cardinal d’Albornoz, all powerful at the sacred court, already + foreboded the hour of his triumph. + </p> + <p> + It was late noon, and in the ante-chamber of the fair Signora waited two + of that fraternity of pages, fair and richly clad, who, at that day, + furnished the favourite attendants to rank of either sex. + </p> + <p> + “By my troth,” cried one of these young servitors, pushing from him the + dice with which himself and his companion had sought to beguile their + leisure, “this is but dull work! and the best part of the day is gone. Our + lady is late.” + </p> + <p> + “And I have donned my new velvet mantle,” replied the other, + compassionately eyeing his finery. + </p> + <p> + “Chut, Giacomo,” said his comrade, yawning; “a truce with thy conceit.—What + news abroad, I wonder? Has his Holiness come to his senses yet?” + </p> + <p> + “His senses! what, is he mad then?” quoth Giacomo, in a serious and + astonished whisper. + </p> + <p> + “I think he is; if, being Pope, he does not discover that he may at length + lay aside mask and hood. ‘Continent Cardinal—lewd Pope,’ is the old + motto, you know; something must be the matter with the good man’s brain if + he continue to live like a hermit.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I have you! but faith, his Holiness has proxies eno’. The bishops + take care to prevent women, Heaven bless them! going out of fashion; and + Albornoz does not maintain your proverb, touching the Cardinals.” + </p> + <p> + “True, but Giles is a warrior,—a cardinal in the church, but a + soldier in the city.” + </p> + <p> + “Will he carry the fort here, think you, Angelo?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, fort is female, but—” + </p> + <p> + “But what?” + </p> + <p> + “The Signora’s brow is made for power, rather than love, fair as it is. + She sees in Albornoz the prince, and not the lover. With what a step she + sweeps the floor! it disdains even the cloth of gold!” + </p> + <p> + “Hark!” cried Giacomo, hastening to the lattice, “hear you the hoofs + below? Ah, a gallant company!” + </p> + <p> + “Returned from hawking,” answered Angelo, regarding wistfully the + cavalcade, as it swept the narrow street. “Plumes waving, steeds + curvetting—see how yon handsome cavalier presses close to that + dame!” + </p> + <p> + “His mantle is the colour of mine,” sighed Giacomo. + </p> + <p> + As the gay procession paced slowly on, till hidden by the winding street, + and as the sound of laughter and the tramp of horses was yet faintly + heard, there frowned right before the straining gaze of the pages, a dark + massive tower of the mighty masonry of the eleventh century: the sun + gleamed sadly on its vast and dismal surface, which was only here and + there relieved by loopholes and narrow slits, rather than casements. It + was a striking contrast to the gaiety around, the glittering shops, and + the gaudy train that had just filled the space below. This contrast the + young men seemed involuntarily to feel; they drew back, and looked at each + other. + </p> + <p> + “I know your thoughts, Giacomo,” said Angelo, the handsomer and elder of + the two. “You think yon tower affords but a gloomy lodgment?” + </p> + <p> + “And I thank my stars that made me not high enough to require so grand a + cage,” rejoined Giacomo. + </p> + <p> + “Yet,” observed Angelo, “it holds one, who in birth was not our superior.” + </p> + <p> + “Do tell me something of that strange man,” said Giacomo, regaining his + seat; “you are Roman and should know.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes!” answered Angelo, haughtily drawing himself up, “I am Roman! and I + should be unworthy my birth, if I had not already learned what honour is + due to the name of Cola di Rienzi.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet your fellow-Romans merely stoned him, I fancy,” muttered Giacomo. + “Honour seems to lie more in kicks than money. Can you tell me,” continued + the page in a louder key, “can you tell me if it be true, that Rienzi + appeared at Prague before the Emperor, and prophesied that the late Pope + and all the Cardinals should be murdered, and a new Italian Pope elected, + who should endue the Emperor with a golden crown, as Sovereign of Sicilia, + Calabria, and Apulia, (An absurd fable, adopted by certain historians.) + and himself with a crown of silver, as King of Rome, and all Italy? And—” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” interrupted Angelo, impatiently. “Listen to me, and you shall know + the exact story. On last leaving Rome (thou knowest that, after his fall, + he was present at the Jubilee in disguise) the Tribune—” here + Angelo, pausing, looked round, and then with a flushed cheek and raised + voice resumed, “Yes, the Tribune, that was and shall be—travelled in + disguise, as a pilgrim, over mountain and forest, night and day, exposed + to rain and storm, no shelter but the cave,—he who had been, they + say, the very spoilt one of Luxury. Arrived at length in Bohemia, he + disclosed himself to a Florentine in Prague, and through his aid obtained + audience of the Emperor Charles.” + </p> + <p> + “A prudent man, the Emperor!” said Giacomo, “close-fisted as a miser. He + makes conquests by bargain, and goes to market for laurels,—as I + have heard my brother say, who was under him.” + </p> + <p> + “True; but I have also heard that he likes bookmen and scholars—is + wise and temperate, and much is yet hoped from him in Italy! Before the + Emperor, I say, came Rienzi. ‘Know, great Prince,’ said he, ‘that I am + that Rienzi to whom God gave to govern Rome, in peace, with justice, and + to freedom. I curbed the nobles, I purged corruption, I amended law. The + powerful persecuted me—pride and envy have chased me from my + dominions. Great as you are, fallen as I am, I too have wielded the + sceptre and might have worn a crown. Know, too, that I am illegitimately + of your lineage; my father the son of Henry VII.; (Uncle to the Emperor + Charles.) the blood of the Teuton rolls in my veins; mean as were my + earlier fortunes and humble my earlier name! From you, O King, I seek + protection, and I demand justice.” (See, for this speech, “the Anonymous + Biographer,” lib. ii. cap. 12.) + </p> + <p> + “A bold speech, and one from equal to equal,” said Giacomo; “surely you + swell us out the words.” + </p> + <p> + “Not a whit; they were written down by the Emperor’s scribe, and every + Roman who has once heard knows them by heart: once every Roman was the + equal to a king, and Rienzi maintained our dignity in asserting his own.” + </p> + <p> + Giacomo, who discreetly avoided quarrels, knew the weak side of his + friend; and though in his heart he thought the Romans as good-for-nothing + a set of turbulent dastards as all Italy might furnish, he merely picked a + straw from his mantle, and said, in rather an impatient tone, “Humph! + proceed! did the Emperor dismiss him?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so: Charles was struck with his bearing and his spirit, received him + graciously, and entertained him hospitably. He remained some time at + Prague, and astonished all the learned with his knowledge and eloquence.” + (His Italian contemporary delights in representing this remarkable man as + another Crichton. “Disputava,” he says of him when at Prague, “disputava + con Mastri di teologia; molto diceva, parlava cose meravigliose...abbair + fea ogni persona.”—“He disputed with Masters of theology—he + spoke much, he discoursed things wonderful—he astonished every + one.”) + </p> + <p> + “But if so honoured at Prague, how comes he a prisoner at Avignon?” + </p> + <p> + “Giacomo,” said Angelo, thoughtfully, “there are some men whom we, of + another mind and mould, can rarely comprehend, and never fathom. And of + such men I have observed that a supreme confidence in their own fortunes + or their own souls, is the most common feature. Thus impressed, and thus + buoyed, they rush into danger with a seeming madness, and from danger soar + to greatness, or sink to death. So with Rienzi; dissatisfied with empty + courtesies and weary of playing the pedant, since once he had played the + prince;—some say of his own accord, (though others relate that he + was surrendered to the Pope’s legate by Charles,) he left the Emperor’s + court, and without arms, without money, betook himself at once to + Avignon!” + </p> + <p> + “Madness indeed!” + </p> + <p> + “Yet, perhaps his only course, under all circumstances,” resumed the elder + page. “Once before his fall, and once during his absence from Rome, he had + been excommunicated by the Pope’s legate. He was accused of heresy—the + ban was still on him. It was necessary that he should clear himself. How + was the poor exile to do so? No powerful friend stood up for the friend of + the people. No courtier vindicated one who had trampled on the neck of the + nobles. His own genius was his only friend; on that only could he rely. He + sought Avignon, to free himself from the accusations against him; and, + doubtless, he hoped that there was but one step from his acquittal to his + restoration. Besides, it is certain that the Emperor had been applied to, + formally to surrender Rienzi. He had the choice before him; for to that + sooner or later it must come—to go free, or to go in bonds—as + a criminal, or as a Roman. He chose the latter. Wherever he passed along, + the people rose in every town, in every hamlet. The name of the great + Tribune was honoured throughout all Italy. They besought him not to rush + into the very den of peril—they implored him to save himself for + that country which he had sought to raise. ‘I go to vindicate myself, and + to triumph,’ was the Tribune’s answer. Solemn honours were paid him in the + cities through which he passed; (“Per tutto la via li furo fatti solenni + onori,” &c.—“Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. ii. cap. 13.) and I + am told that never ambassador, prince, or baron, entered Avignon with so + long a train as that which followed into these very walls the steps of + Cola di Rienzi.” + </p> + <p> + “And on his arrival?” + </p> + <p> + “He demanded an audience, that he might refute the charges against him. He + flung down the gage to the proud cardinals who had excommunicated him. He + besought a trial.” + </p> + <p> + “And what said the Pope?” + </p> + <p> + “Nothing—by word. Yon tower was his answer!” + </p> + <p> + “A rough one!” + </p> + <p> + “But there have been longer roads than that from the prison to the palace, + and God made not men like Rienzi for the dungeon and the chain.” + </p> + <p> + As Angelo said this with a loud voice, and with all the enthusiasm with + which the fame of the fallen Tribune had inspired the youth of Rome, he + heard a sigh behind him. He turned in some confusion, and at the door + which admitted to the chamber occupied by the Signora Cesarini, stood a + female of noble presence. Attired in the richest garments, gold and gems + were dull to the lustre of her dark eyes, and as she now stood, erect and + commanding, never seemed brow more made for the regal crown—never + did human beauty more fully consummate the ideal of a heroine and a queen. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, Signora,” said Angelo, hesitatingly; “I spoke loud, I + disturbed you; but I am Roman, and my theme was—” + </p> + <p> + “Rienzi!” said the lady, approaching; “a fit one to stir a Roman heart. + Nay—no excuses: they would sound ill on thy generous lips. Ah, if—” + the Signora paused suddenly, and sighed again; then in an altered and + graver tone she resumed—“If fate restore Rienzi to his proper + fortunes, he shall know what thou deemest of him.” + </p> + <p> + “If you, lady, who are of Naples,” said Angelo, with meaning emphasis, + “speak thus of a fallen exile, what must I have felt who acknowledge a + sovereign?” + </p> + <p> + “Rienzi is not of Rome alone—he is of Italy—of the world,” + returned the Signora. “And you, Angelo, who have had the boldness to speak + thus of one fallen, have proved with what loyalty you can serve those who + have the fortune to own you.” + </p> + <p> + As she spoke, the Signora looked at the page’s downcast and blushing face + long and wistfully, with the gaze of one accustomed to read the soul in + the countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Men are often deceived,” said she sadly, yet with a half smile; “but + women rarely,—save in love. Would that Rome were filled with such as + you! Enough! Hark! Is that the sound of hoofs in the court below?” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said Giacomo, bringing his mantle gallantly over his shoulder, “I + see the servitors of Monsignore the Cardinal d’Albornoz.—It is the + Cardinal himself.” + </p> + <p> + “It is well!” said the Signora, with a brightening eye; “I await him!” + With these words she withdrew by the door through which she had surprised + the Roman page. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0044" id="link2HCH0044"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 7.II. The Character of a Warrior Priest—an Interview—the + </h2> + <p> + Intrigue and Counter-intrigue of Courts. + </p> + <p> + Giles, (or Egidio, (Egidio is the proper Italian equivalent to the French + name Gilles,—but the Cardinal is generally called, by the writers of + that day, Gilio d’Albornoz.)) Cardinal d’Albornoz, was one of the most + remarkable men of that remarkable time, so prodigal of genius. Boasting + his descent from the royal houses of Aragon and Leon, he had early entered + the church, and yet almost a youth, attained the archbishopric of Toledo. + But no peaceful career, however brilliant, sufficed to his ambition. He + could not content himself with the honours of the church, unless they were + the honours of a church militant. In the war against the Moors, no + Spaniard had more highly distinguished himself; and Alphonso XI. king of + Castile, had insisted on receiving from the hand of the martial priest the + badge of knighthood. After the death of Alphonso, who was strongly + attached to him, Albornoz repaired to Avignon, and obtained from Clement + VI. the cardinal’s hat. With Innocent he continued in high favour, and + now, constantly in the councils of the Pope, rumours of warlike + preparation, under the banners of Albornoz, for the recovery of the papal + dominions from the various tyrants that usurped them, were already + circulated through the court. (It is a characteristic anecdote of this + bold Churchman, that Urban V. one day demanded an account of the sums + spent in his military expedition against the Italian tyrants. The Cardinal + presented to the Pope a wagon, filled with the keys of the cities and + fortresses he had taken. “This is my account,” said he; “you perceive how + I have invested your money.” The Pope embraced him, and gave him no + further trouble about his accounts.) Bold, sagacious, enterprising, and + cold-hearted,—with the valour of the knight, and the cunning of the + priest,—such was the character of Giles, Cardinal d’Albornoz. + </p> + <p> + Leaving his attendant gentlemen in the antechamber, Albornoz was ushered + into the apartment of the Signora Cesarini. In person, the Cardinal was + about the middle height; the dark complexion of Spain had faded by + thought, and the wear of ambitious schemes, into a sallow but hardy hue; + his brow was deeply furrowed, and though not yet passed the prime of life, + Albornoz might seem to have entered age, but for the firmness of his step, + the slender elasticity of his frame, and an eye which had acquired + calmness and depth from thought, without losing any of the brilliancy of + youth. + </p> + <p> + “Beautiful Signora,” said the Cardinal, bending over the hand of the + Cesarini with a grace which betokened more of the prince than of the + priest; “the commands of his Holiness have detained me, I fear, beyond the + hour in which you vouchsafed to appoint my homage, but my heart has been + with you since we parted.” + </p> + <p> + “The Cardinal d’Albornoz,” replied the Signora, gently withdrawing her + hand, and seating herself, “has so many demands on his time, from the + duties of his rank and renown, that methinks to divert his attention for a + few moments to less noble thoughts is a kind of treason to his fame.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, Lady,” replied the Cardinal, “never was my ambition so nobly directed + as it is now. And it were a prouder lot to be at thy feet than on the + throne of St. Peter.” + </p> + <p> + A momentary blush passed over the cheek of the Signora, yet it seemed the + blush of indignation as much as of vanity; it was succeeded by an extreme + paleness. She paused before she replied; and then fixing her large and + haughty eyes on the enamoured Spaniard, she said, in a low voice, + </p> + <p> + “My Lord Cardinal, I do not affect to misunderstand your words; neither do + I place them to the account of a general gallantry. I am vain enough to + believe you imagine you speak truly when you say you love me.” + </p> + <p> + “Imagine!” echoed the Spaniard. + </p> + <p> + “Listen to me,” continued the Signora. “She whom the Cardinal Albornoz + honours with his love has a right to demand of him its proofs. In the + papal court, whose power like his?—I require you to exercise it for + me.” + </p> + <p> + “Speak, dearest Lady; have your estates been seized by the barbarians of + these lawless times? Hath any dared to injure you? Lands and titles, are + these thy wish?—my power is thy slave.” + </p> + <p> + “Cardinal, no! there is one thing dearer to an Italian and a woman than + wealth or station—it is revenge!” + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal drew back from the flashing eye that was bent upon him, but + the spirit of her speech touched a congenial chord. + </p> + <p> + “There,” said he, after a little hesitation, “there spake high descent. + Revenge is the luxury of the well-born. Let serfs and churls forgive an + injury. Proceed, Lady.” + </p> + <p> + “Hast thou heard the last news from Rome?” asked the Signora. + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” replied the Cardinal, in some surprise, “we were poor statesmen + to be ignorant of the condition of the capital of the papal dominions; and + my heart mourns for that unfortunate city. But wherefore wouldst thou + question me of Rome?—thou art—” + </p> + <p> + “Roman! Know, my Lord, that I have a purpose in calling myself of Naples. + To your discretion I intrust my secret—I am of Rome! Tell me of her + state.” + </p> + <p> + “Fairest one,” returned the Cardinal, “I should have known that that brow + and presence were not of the light Campania. My reason should have told me + that they bore the stamp of the Empress of the World. The state of Rome,” + continued Albornoz, in a graver tone, “is briefly told. Thou knowest that + after the fall of the able but insolent Rienzi, Pepin, count of Minorbino, + (a creature of Montreal’s) who had assisted in expelling him, would have + betrayed Rome to Montreal,—but he was neither strong enough nor wise + enough, and the Barons chased him as he had chased the Tribune. Some time + afterwards a new demagogue, John Cerroni, was installed in the Capitol. He + once more expelled the nobles; new revolutions ensued—the Barons + were recalled. The weak successor of Rienzi summoned the people to arms—in + vain: in terror and despair he abdicated his power, and left the city a + prey to the interminable feuds of the Orsini, the Colonna, and the + Savelli.” + </p> + <p> + “Thus much I know, my Lord; but when his Holiness succeeded to the chair + of Clement VI.—” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Albornoz, and a slight frown darkened his sallow brow, “then + came the blacker part of the history. Two senators were elected in concert + by the Pope.” + </p> + <p> + “Their names?” + </p> + <p> + “Bertoldo Orsini, and one of the Colonna. A few weeks afterwards, the high + price of provisions stung the rascal stomachs of the mob—they rose, + they clamoured, they armed, they besieged the Capitol—” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well,” cried the Signora, clasping her hands, and betokening in + every feature her interest in the narration. + </p> + <p> + “Colonna only escaped death by a vile disguise; Bertoldo Orsini was + stoned.” + </p> + <p> + “Stoned!—there fell one!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, lady, one of a great house; the least drop of whose blood were worth + an ocean of plebeian puddle. At present, all is disorder, misrule, + anarchy, at Rome. The contests of the nobles shake the city to the centre; + and prince and people, wearied of so many experiments to establish a + government, have now no governor but the fear of the sword. Such, fair + madam, is the state of Rome. Sigh not, it occupies now our care. It shall + be remedied; and I, madam, may be the happy instrument of restoring peace + to your native city.” + </p> + <p> + “There is but one way of restoring peace to Rome,” answered the Signora, + abruptly, “and that is—The restoration of Rienzi!” + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal started. “Madam,” said he, “do I hear aright?—are you + not nobly born?—can you desire the rise of a plebeian? Did you not + speak of revenge, and now you ask for mercy?” + </p> + <p> + “Lord Cardinal,” said the beautiful Signora, earnestly, “I do not ask for + mercy: such a word is not for the lips of one who demands justice. Nobly + born I am—ay, and from a stock to whose long descent from the + patricians of ancient Rome the high line of Aragon itself would be of + yesterday. Nay, I would not offend you, Monsignore; your greatness is not + borrowed from pedigrees and tombstones—your greatness is your own + achieving: would you speak honestly, my Lord, you would own that you are + proud only of your own laurels, and that, in your heart, you laugh at the + stately fools who trick themselves out in the mouldering finery of the + dead!” + </p> + <p> + “Muse! prophetess! you speak aright,” said the high-spirited Cardinal, + with unwonted energy; “and your voice is like that of the Fame I dreamed + of in my youth. Speak on, speak ever!” + </p> + <p> + “Such,” continued the Signora, “such as your pride, is the just pride of + Rienzi. Proud that he is the workman of his own great renown. In such as + the Tribune of Rome we acknowledge the founders of noble lineage. Ancestry + makes not them—they make ancestry. Enough of this. I am of noble + race, it is true; but my house, and those of many, have been crushed and + broken beneath the yoke of the Orsini and Colonna—it is against them + I desire revenge. But I am better than an Italian lady—I am a Roman + woman—I weep tears of blood for the disorders of my unhappy country. + I mourn that even you, my Lord,—yes, that a barbarian, however + eminent and however great, should mourn for Rome. I desire to restore her + fortunes.” + </p> + <p> + “But Rienzi would only restore his own.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so, my Lord Cardinal; not so. Ambitious and proud he may be—great + souls are so—but he has never had one wish divorced from the welfare + of Rome. But put aside all thought of his interests—it is not of + these I speak. You desire to re-establish the papal power in Rome. Your + senators have failed to do it. Demagogues fail—Rienzi alone can + succeed; he alone can command the turbulent passions of the Barons—he + alone can sway the capricious and fickle mob. Release, restore Rienzi, and + through Rienzi the Pope regains Rome!” + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal did not answer for some moments. Buried as in a revery, he + sate motionless, shading his face with his hand. Perhaps he secretly owned + there was a wiser policy in the suggestions of the Signora than he cared + openly to confess. Lifting his head, at length, from his bosom, he fixed + his eyes upon the Signora’s watchful countenance, and, with a forced + smile, said, + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, madam; but while we play the politicians, forget not that I am + thy adorer. Sagacious may be thy counsels, yet wherefore are they urged? + Why this anxious interest for Rienzi? If by releasing him the Church may + gain an ally, am I sure that Giles d’Albornoz will not raise a rival?” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord,” said the Signora, half rising, “you are my suitor; but your + rank does not tempt me—your gold cannot buy. If you love me, I have + a right to command your services to whatsoever task I would require—it + is the law of chivalry. If ever I yield to the addresses of mortal lover, + it will be to the man who restores to my native land her hero and her + saviour.” + </p> + <p> + “Fair patriot,” said the Cardinal, “your words encourage my hope, yet they + half damp my ambition; for fain would I desire that love and not service + should alone give me the treasure that I ask. But hear me, sweet lady; you + over-rate my power: I cannot deliver Rienzi—he is accused of + rebellion, he is excommunicated for heresy. His acquittal rests with + himself.” + </p> + <p> + “You can procure his trial?” + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps, Lady.” + </p> + <p> + “That is his acquittal. And a private audience of his Holiness?” + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless.” + </p> + <p> + “That is his restoration! Behold all I ask!” + </p> + <p> + “And then, sweet Roman, it will be mine to ask,” said the Cardinal, + passionately, dropping on his knee, and taking the Signora’s hand. For one + moment, that proud lady felt that she was woman—she blushed, she + trembled; but it was not (could the Cardinal have read that heart) with + passion or with weakness; it was with terror and with shame. Passively she + surrendered her hand to the Cardinal, who covered it with kisses. + </p> + <p> + “Thus inspired,” said Albornoz, rising, “I will not doubt of success. + Tomorrow I wait on thee again.” + </p> + <p> + He pressed her hand to his heart—the lady felt it not. He sighed his + farewell—she did not hear it. Lingeringly he gazed; and slowly he + departed. But it was some moments before, recalled to herself, the Signora + felt that she was alone. + </p> + <p> + “Alone!” she cried, half aloud, and with wild emphasis—“alone! Oh, + what have I undergone—what have I said! Unfaithful, even in thought, + to him! Oh, never! never! I, that have felt the kiss of his hallowing lips—that + have slept on his kingly heart—I!—holy Mother, befriend and + strengthen me!” she continued, as, weeping bitterly, she sunk upon her + knees; and for some moments she was lost in prayer. Then, rising composed, + but deadly pale, and with the tears rolling heavily down her cheeks, the + Signora passed slowly to the casement; she threw it open, and bent + forward; the air of the declining day came softly on her temples; it + cooled, it mitigated, the fever that preyed within. Dark and huge before + her frowned, in its gloomy shadow, the tower in which Rienzi was confined; + she gazed at it long and wistfully, and then, turning away, drew from the + folds of her robe a small and sharp dagger. “Let me save him for glory!” + she murmured; “and this shall save me from dishonour!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0045" id="link2HCH0045"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 7.III. Holy Men.—Sagacious Deliberations.—Just + Resolves.—And + </h2> + <p> + Sordid Motives to All. + </p> + <p> + Enamoured of the beauty, and almost equally so of the lofty spirit, of the + Signora Cesarini, as was the warlike Cardinal of Spain, love with him was + not so master a passion as that ambition of complete success in all the + active designs of life, which had hitherto animated his character and + signalized his career. Musing, as he left the Signora, on her wish for the + restoration of the Roman Tribune, his experienced and profound intellect + ran swiftly through whatever advantages to his own political designs might + result from that restoration. We have seen that it was the intention of + the new Pontiff to attempt the recovery of the patrimonial territories, + now torn from him by the gripe of able and disaffected tyrants. With this + view, a military force was already in preparation, and the Cardinal was + already secretly nominated the chief. But the force was very inadequate to + the enterprise; and Albornoz depended much upon the moral strength of the + cause in bringing recruits to his standard in his progress through the + Italian states. The wonderful rise of Rienzi had excited an extraordinary + enthusiasm in his favour through all the free populations of Italy. And + this had been yet more kindled and inflamed by the influential eloquence + of Petrarch, who, at that time, possessed of a power greater than ever, + before or since, (not even excepting the Sage of Ferney,) wielded by a + single literary man, had put forth his boldest genius in behalf of the + Roman Tribune. Such a companion as Rienzi in the camp of the Cardinal + might be a magnet of attraction to the youth and enterprise of Italy. On + nearing Rome, he might himself judge how far it would be advisable to + reinstate Rienzi as a delegate of the papal power. And, in the meanwhile, + the Roman’s influence might be serviceable, whether to awe the rebellious + nobles or conciliate the stubborn people. On the other hand, the Cardinal + was shrewd enough to perceive that no possible good could arise from + Rienzi’s present confinement. With every month it excited deeper and more + universal sympathy. To his lonely dungeon turned half the hearts of + republican Italy. Literature had leagued its new and sudden, and therefore + mighty and even disproportioned, power with his cause; and the Pope, + without daring to be his judge, incurred the odium of being his gaoler. “A + popular prisoner,” said the sagacious Cardinal to himself, “is the most + dangerous of guests. Restore him as your servant, or destroy him as your + foe! In this case I see no alternative but acquittal or the knife!” In + these reflections that able plotter, deep in the Machiavelism of the age, + divorced the lover from the statesman. + </p> + <p> + Recurring now to the former character, he felt some disagreeable and + uneasy forebodings at the earnest interest of his mistress. Fain would he + have attributed, either to some fantasy of patriotism or some purpose of + revenge, the anxiety of the Cesarini; and there was much in her stern and + haughty character which favoured that belief. But he was forced to + acknowledge to himself some jealous apprehension of a sinister and latent + motive, which touched his vanity and alarmed his love. “Howbeit,” he + thought, as he turned from his unwilling fear, “I can play with her at her + own weapons; I can obtain the release of Rienzi, and claim my reward. If + denied, the hand that opened the dungeon can again rivet the chain. In her + anxiety is my power!” + </p> + <p> + These thoughts the Cardinal was still revolving in his palace, when he was + suddenly summoned to attend the Pontiff. + </p> + <p> + The pontifical palace no longer exhibited the gorgeous yet graceful luxury + of Clement VI., and the sarcastic Cardinal smiled to himself at the quiet + gloom of the ante-chambers. “He thinks to set an example—this poor + native of Limoges!” thought Albornoz; “and has but the mortification of + finding himself eclipsed by the poorest bishop. He humbles himself, and + fancies that the humility will be contagious.” + </p> + <p> + His Holiness was seated before a small and rude table bestrewed with + papers, his face buried in his hands; the room was simply furnished, and + in a small niche beside the casement was an ivory crucifix; below, the + death’s head and cross-bones, which most monks then introduced with a + purpose similar to that of the ancients by the like ornaments,—mementos + of the shortness of life, and therefore admonitions to make the best of + it! On the ground lay a map of the Patrimonial Territory, with the + fortresses in especial, distinctly and prominently marked. The Pope gently + lifted up his head as the Cardinal was announced, and discovered a plain + but sensible and somewhat interesting countenance. “My son!” said he, with + a kindly courtesy to the lowly salutation of the proud Spaniard, “scarcely + wouldst thou imagine, after our long conference this morning, that new + cares would so soon demand the assistance of thy counsels. Verily, the + wreath of thorns stings sharp under the triple crown; and I sometimes long + for the quiet abode of my old professor’s chair in Toulouse: my station is + of pain and toil.” + </p> + <p> + “God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb,” observed the Cardinal, with + pious and compassionate gravity. + </p> + <p> + Innocent could scarcely refrain a smile as he replied, “The lamb that + carries the cross must have the strength of the lion. Since we parted, my + son, I have had painful intelligence; our couriers have arrived from the + Campagna—the heathen rage furiously—the force of John di Vico + has augmented fearfully, and the most redoubted adventurer of Europe has + enlisted under his banner.” + </p> + <p> + “Does his Holiness,” cried the Cardinal, anxiously, “speak of Fra Moreale, + the Knight of St. John?” + </p> + <p> + “Of no less a warrior,” returned the Pontiff. “I dread the vast ambition + of that wild adventurer.” + </p> + <p> + “Your Holiness hath cause,” said the Cardinal, drily. + </p> + <p> + “Some letters of his have fallen into the hands of the servants of the + Church; they are here: read them, my son.” + </p> + <p> + Albornoz received and deliberately scanned the letters; this done, he + replaced them on the table, and remained for a few moments silent and + absorbed. + </p> + <p> + “What think you, my son?” said the Pope, at length, with an impatient and + even peevish tone. + </p> + <p> + “I think that, with Montreal’s hot genius and John di Vico’s frigid + villany, your Holiness may live to envy, if not the quiet, at least the + revenue, of the Professor’s chair.” + </p> + <p> + “How, Cardinal!” said the Pope, hastily, and with an angry flush on his + pale brow. The Cardinal quietly proceeded. + </p> + <p> + “By these letters it seems that Montreal has written to all the commanders + of free lances throughout Italy, offering the highest pay of a soldier to + every man who will join his standard, combined with the richest plunder of + a brigand. He meditates great schemes then!—I know the man!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,—and our course?” + </p> + <p> + “Is plain,” said the Cardinal, loftily, and with an eye that flashed with + a soldier’s fire. “Not a moment is to be lost! Thy son should at once take + the field. Up with the Banner of the Church!” + </p> + <p> + “But are we strong enough? our numbers are few. Zeal slackens! the piety + of the Baldwins is no more!” + </p> + <p> + “Your Holiness knows well,” said the Cardinal, “that for the multitude of + men there are two watchwords of war—Liberty and Religion. If + Religion begins to fail, we must employ the profaner word. ‘Up with the + Banner of the Church—and down with the tyrants!’ We will proclaim + equal laws and free government; (In correcting the pages of this work, in + the year 1847...strange coincidences between the present policy of the + Roman Church and that by which in the 14th century it recovered both + spiritual and temporal power cannot fail to suggest themselves.) and, God + willing, our camp shall prosper better with those promises than the tents + of Montreal with the more vulgar shout of ‘Pay and Rapine.’” + </p> + <p> + “Giles d’Albornoz,” said the Pope, emphatically; and, warmed by the spirit + of the Cardinal, he dropped the wonted etiquette of phrase, “I trust + implicitly to you. Now the right hand of the Church—hereafter, + perhaps, its head. Too well I feel that the lot has fallen on a lowly + place. My successor must requite my deficiencies.” + </p> + <p> + No changing hue, no brightening glance, betrayed to the searching eye of + the Pope whatever emotion these words had called up in the breast of the + ambitious Cardinal. He bowed his proud head humbly as he answered, “Pray + Heaven that Innocent VI. may long live to guide the Church to glory. For + Giles d’Albornoz, less priest than soldier, the din of the camp, the + breath of the war-steed, suggest the only aspirations which he ever dares + indulge. But has your Holiness imparted to your servant all that—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” interrupted Innocent, “I have yet intelligence equally ominous. + This John di Vico,—pest go with him!—who still styles himself + (the excommunicated ruffian!) Prefect of Rome, has so filled that unhappy + city with his emissaries, that we have well-nigh lost the seat of the + Apostle. Rome, long in anarchy, seems now in open rebellion. The nobles—sons + of Belial!—it is true, are once more humbled; but how?—One + Baroncelli, a new demagogue, the fiercest—the most bloody that the + fiend ever helped—has arisen—is invested by the mob with + power, and uses it to butcher the people and insult the Pontiff. Wearied + of the crimes of this man, (which are not even decorated by ability,) the + shout of the people day and night along the streets is for ‘Rienzi the + Tribune.’” + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” said the Cardinal, “Rienzi’s faults then are forgotten in Rome, and + there is felt for him the same enthusiasm in that city as in the rest of + Italy?” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! It is so.” + </p> + <p> + “It is well, I have thought of this: Rienzi can accompany my progress—” + </p> + <p> + “My son! the rebel, the heretic—” + </p> + <p> + “By your Holiness’s absolution will become quiet subject and orthodox + Catholic,” said Albornoz. “Men are good or bad as they suit our purpose. + What matters a virtue that is useless, or a crime that is useful, to us? + The army of the Church proceeds against tyrants—it proclaims + everywhere to the Papal towns the restoration of their popular + constitutions. Sees not your Holiness that the acquittal of Rienzi, the + popular darling, will be hailed an earnest of your sincerity?—sees + not your Holiness that his name will fight for us?—sees not your + Holiness that the great demagogue Rienzi must be used to extinguish the + little demagogue Baroncelli? We must regain the Romans, whether of the + city or whether in the seven towns of John di Vico. When they hear Rienzi + is in our camp, trust me, we shall have a multitude of deserters from the + tyrants—trust me, we shall hear no more of Baroncelli.” + </p> + <p> + “Ever sagacious,” said the Pope, musingly; “it is true, we can use this + man: but with caution. His genius is formidable—” + </p> + <p> + “And therefore must be conciliated; if we acquit, we must make him ours. + My experience has taught me this, when you cannot slay a demagogue by law, + crush him with honours. He must be no longer Tribune of the People. Give + him the Patrician title of Senator, and he is then the Lieutenant of the + Pope!” + </p> + <p> + “I will see to this, my son—your suggestions please, but alarm me: + he shall at least be examined;—but if found a heretic—” + </p> + <p> + “Should, I humbly advise, be declared a saint.” + </p> + <p> + The Pope bent his brow for a moment, but the effort was too much for him, + and after a moment’s struggle, he fairly laughed aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Go to, my son,” said he, affectionately patting the Cardinal’s sallow + cheek. “Go to.—If the world heard thee, what would it say?” + </p> + <p> + “That Giles d’Albornoz had just enough religion to remember that the State + is a Church, but not too much to forget that the Church is a State.” + </p> + <p> + With these words the conference ended. That very evening the Pope decreed + that Rienzi should be permitted the trial he had demanded. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0046" id="link2HCH0046"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 7.IV. The Lady and the Page. + </h2> + <p> + It wanted three hours of midnight, when Albornoz, resuming his character + of gallant, despatched to the Signora Cesarini the following billet. + </p> + <p> + “Your commands are obeyed. Rienzi will receive an examination on his + faith. It is well that he should be prepared. It may suit your purpose, as + to which I am so faintly enlightened, to appear to the prisoner what you + are—the obtainer of this grace. See how implicitly one noble heart + can trust another! I send by the bearer an order that will admit one of + your servitors to the prisoner’s cell. Be it, if you will, your task to + announce to him the new crisis of his fate. Ah! madam, may fortune be as + favourable to me, and grant me the same intercessor—from thy lips my + sentence is to come.” + </p> + <p> + As Albornoz finished this epistle, he summoned his confidential attendant, + a Spanish gentleman, who saw nothing in his noble birth that should + prevent his fulfilling the various hests of the Cardinal. + </p> + <p> + “Alvarez,” said he, “these to the Signora Cesarini by another hand; thou + art unknown to her household. Repair to the state tower; this to the + Governor admits thee. Mark who is admitted to the prisoner Cola di Rienzi: + Know his name, examine whence he comes. Be keen, Alvarez. Learn by what + motive the Cesarini interests herself in the prisoner’s fate. All too of + herself, birth, fortunes, lineage, would be welcome intelligence. Thou + comprehendest me? It is well. One caution—thou hast no mission from, + no connexion with, me. Thou art an officer of the prison, or of the Pope,—what + thou wilt. Give me the rosary; light the lamp before the crucifix; place + yon hair-shirt beneath those arms. I would have it appear as if meant to + be hidden! Tell Gomez that the Dominican preacher is to be admitted.” + </p> + <p> + “Those friars have zeal,” continued the Cardinal to himself, as, after + executing his orders, Alvarez withdrew. “They would burn a man—but + only on the Bible? They are worth conciliating, if the triple crown be + really worth the winning; were it mine, I would add the eagle’s plume to + it.” + </p> + <p> + And plunged into the aspiring future, this bold man forgot even the object + of his passion. In real life, after a certain age, ambitious men love + indeed; but it is only as an interlude. And indeed with most men, life has + more absorbing though not more frequent concerns than those of love. Love + is the business of the idle, but the idleness of the busy. + </p> + <p> + The Cesarini was alone when the Cardinal’s messenger arrived, and he was + scarcely dismissed with a few lines, expressive of a gratitude which + seemed to bear down all those guards with which the coldness of the + Signora usually fenced her pride, before the page Angelo was summoned to + her presence. + </p> + <p> + The room was dark with the shades of the gathering night when the youth + entered, and he discerned but dimly the outline of the Signora’s stately + form; but by the tone of her voice, he perceived that she was deeply + agitated. + </p> + <p> + “Angelo,” said she, as he approached, “Angelo—” and her voice failed + her. She paused as for breath and again proceeded. “You alone have served + us faithfully; you alone shared our escape, our wanderings, our exile—you + alone know my secret—you of my train alone are Roman!—Roman! + it was once a great name. Angelo, the name has fallen; but it is only + because the nature of the Roman Race fell first. Haughty they are, but + fickle; fierce, but dastard; vehement in promise, but rotten in their + faith. You are a Roman, and though I have proved your truth, your very + birth makes me afraid of falsehood.” + </p> + <p> + “Madam,” said the page; “I was but a child when you admitted me of your + service, and I am yet only on the verge of manhood. But boy though I yet + be, I would brave the stoutest lance of knight, or freebooter, in defence + of the faith of Angelo Villani, to his liege Lady and his native land.” + </p> + <p> + “Alas! alas!” said the Signora, bitterly, “such have been the words of + thousands of thy race. What have been their deeds? But I will trust thee, + as I have trusted ever. I know that thou art covetous of honour, that thou + hast youth’s comely and bright ambition.” + </p> + <p> + “I am an orphan and a bastard,” said Angelo, bluntly! “And circumstance + stings me sharply on to action; I would win my own name.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou shalt,” said the Signora. “We shall live yet to reward thee. And now + be quick. Bring hither one of thy page’s suits,—mantle and + head-gear. Quick, I say, and whisper not to a soul what I have asked of + thee.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0047" id="link2HCH0047"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 7.V. The Inmate of the Tower. + </h2> + <p> + The night slowly advanced, and in the highest chamber of that dark and + rugged tower which fronted the windows of the Cesarini’s palace sate a + solitary prisoner. A single lamp burned before him on a table of stone, + and threw its rays over an open Bible; and those stern but fantastic + legends of the prowess of ancient Rome, which the genius of Livy has + dignified into history. (“Avea libri assai, suo Tito Livio, sue storie di + Roma, la Bibbia et altri libri assai, non finava di studiare.”—“Vita + di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. ii. cap. 13. See translation to motto to Book + VII. page 202.) A chain hung pendent from the vault of the tower, and + confined the captive; but so as to leave his limbs at sufficient liberty + to measure at will the greater part of the cell. Green and damp were the + mighty stones of the walls, and through a narrow aperture, high out of + reach, came the moonlight, and slept in long shadow over the rude floor. A + bed at one corner completed the furniture of the room. Such for months had + been the abode of the conqueror of the haughtiest Barons, and the + luxurious dictator of the stateliest city of the world! + </p> + <p> + Care, and travel, and time, and adversity, had wrought their change in the + person of Rienzi. The proportions of his frame had enlarged from the + compact strength of earlier manhood, the clear paleness of his cheek was + bespread with a hectic and deceitful glow. Even in his present studies, + intent as they seemed, and genial though the lecture to a mind + enthusiastic even to fanaticism, his eyes could not rivet themselves as of + yore steadily to the page. The charm was gone from the letters. Every now + and then he moved restlessly, started, re-settled himself, and muttered + broken exclamations like a man in an anxious dream. Anon, his gaze + impatiently turned upward, about, around, and there was a strange and + wandering fire in those large deep eyes, which might have thrilled the + beholder with a vague and unaccountable awe. + </p> + <p> + Angelo had in the main correctly narrated the more recent adventures of + Rienzi after his fall. He had first with Nina and Angelo betaken himself + to Naples, and found a fallacious and brief favour with Louis, king of + Hungary; that harsh but honourable monarch had refused to yield his + illustrious guest to the demands of Clement, but had plainly declared his + inability to shelter him in safety. Maintaining secret intercourse with + his partisans at Rome, the fugitive then sought a refuge with the + Eremites, sequestered in the lone recesses of the Monte Maiella, where in + solitude and thought he had passed a whole year, save the time consumed in + his visit to and return from Florence. Taking advantage of the Jubilee in + Rome, he had then, disguised as a pilgrim, traversed the vales and + mountains still rich in the melancholy ruins of ancient Rome, and entering + the city, his restless and ambitious spirit indulged in new but vain + conspiracies! (Rainald, Ann. 1350, N. 4, E. 5.) Excommunicated a second + time by the Cardinal di Ceccano, and again a fugitive, he shook the dust + from his feet as he left the city, and raising his hands towards those + walls, in which are yet traced the witness of the Tarquins, cried aloud—“Honoured + as thy prince—persecuted as thy victim—Rome, Rome, thou shalt + yet receive me as thy conqueror!” + </p> + <p> + Still disguised as a pilgrim, he passed unmolested through Italy into the + Court of the Emperor Charles of Bohemia, where the page, who had probably + witnessed, had rightly narrated, his reception. It is doubtful, however, + whether the conduct of the Emperor had been as chivalrous as appears by + Angelo’s relation, or whether he had not delivered Rienzi to the Pontiff’s + emissaries. At all events it is certain, that from Prague to Avignon, the + path of the fallen Tribune had been as one triumph. His strange adventures—his + unbroken spirit—the new power that Intellect daily and wonderfully + excited over the minds of the rising generation—the eloquence of + Petrarch, and the common sympathy of the vulgar for fallen greatness,—all + conspired to make Rienzi the hero of the age. Not a town through which he + passed which would not have risked a siege for his protection—not a + house that would not have sheltered him—not a hand that would not + have struck in his defence. Refusing all offers of aid, disdaining all + occasion of escape, inspired by his indomitable hope, and his unalloyed + belief in the brightness of his own destinies, the Tribune sought Avignon—and + found a dungeon! + </p> + <p> + These, his external adventures, are briefly and easily told; but who shall + tell what passed within?—who narrate the fearful history of the + heart?—who paint the rapid changes of emotion and of thought—the + indignant grief—the stern dejection—the haughty disappointment + that saddened while it never destroyed the resolve of that great soul? Who + can say what must have been endured, what meditated, in the hermitage of + Maiella;—on the lonely hills of the perished empire it had been his + dream to restore;—in the Courts of Barbarian Kings;—and above + all, on returning obscure and disguised, amidst the crowds of the + Christian world, to the seat of his former power? What elements of memory, + and in what a wild and fiery brain! What reflections to be conned in the + dungeons of Avignon, by a man who had pushed into all the fervour of + fanaticism—four passions, a single one of which has, in excess, + sufficed to wreck the strongest reason—passions, which in themselves + it is most difficult to combine,—the dreamer—the aspirant—the + very nympholept of Freedom, yet of Power—of Knowledge, yet of + Religion! + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” muttered the prisoner, “ay, these texts are comforting—comforting. + The righteous are not alway oppressed.” With a long sigh he deliberately + put aside the Bible, kissed it with great reverence, remained silent, and + musing for some minutes; and then as a slight noise was heard at one + corner of the cell, said softly, “Ah, my friends, my comrades, the rats! + it is their hour—I am glad I put aside the bread for them!” His eye + brightened as it now detected those strange and unsocial animals venturing + forth through a hole in the wall, and, darkening the moonshine on the + floor, steal fearlessly towards him. He flung some fragments of bread to + them, and for some moments watched their gambols with a smile. “Manchino, + the white-faced rascal! he beats all the rest—ha, ha! he is a + superior wretch—he commands the tribe, and will venture the first + into the trap. How will he bite against the steel, the fine fellow! while + all the ignobler herd will gaze at him afar off, and quake and fear, and + never help. Yet if united, they might gnaw the trap and release their + leader! Ah, ye are base vermin, ye eat my bread, yet if death came upon + me, ye would riot on my carcass. Away!” and clapping his hands, the chain + round him clanked harshly, and the noisome co-mates of his dungeon + vanished in an instant. + </p> + <p> + That singular and eccentric humour which marked Rienzi, and which had + seemed a buffoonery to the stolid sullenness of the Roman nobles, still + retained its old expression in his countenance, and he laughed loud as he + saw the vermin hurry back to their hiding-place. + </p> + <p> + “A little noise and the clank of a chain—fie, how ye imitate + mankind!” Again he sank into silence, and then heavily and listlessly + drawing towards him the animated tales of Livy, said, “An hour to + midnight!—waking dreams are better than sleep. Well, history tells + us how men have risen—ay, and nations too—after sadder falls + than that of Rienzi or of Rome!” + </p> + <p> + In a few minutes, he was apparently absorbed in the lecture; so intent + indeed, was he in the task, that he did not hear the steps which wound the + spiral stairs that conducted to his cell, and it was not till the wards + harshly grated beneath the huge key, and the door creaked on its hinges, + that Rienzi, in amaze at intrusion at so unwonted an hour, lifted his + eyes. The door had reclosed on the dungeon, and by the lonely and pale + lamp he beheld a figure leaning, as for support, against the wall. The + figure was wrapped from head to foot in the long cloak of the day, which, + aided by a broad hat, shaded by plumes, concealed even the features of the + visitor. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi gazed long and wistfully. + </p> + <p> + “Speak,” he said at length, putting his hand to his brow. “Methinks either + long solitude has bewildered me, or, sweet sir, your apparition dazzles. I + know you not—am I sure?—” and Rienzi’s hair bristled while he + slowly rose—“Am I sure that it is living man who stands before me? + Angels have entered the prison-house before now. Alas! an angel’s comfort + never was more needed.” + </p> + <p> + The stranger answered not, but the captive saw that his heart heaved even + beneath his cloak; loud sobs choked his voice; at length, as by a violent + effort, he sprung forward, and sunk at the Tribune’s feet. The disguising + hat, the long mantle fell to the ground—it was the face of a woman + that looked upward through passionate and glazing tears—the arms of + a woman that clasped the prisoner’s knees! Rienzi gazed mute and + motionless as stone. “Powers and Saints of Heaven!” he murmured at last, + “do ye tempt me further!—is it?—no, no—yet speak!” + </p> + <p> + “Beloved—adored!—do you not know me?” + </p> + <p> + “It is—it is!” shrieked Rienzi wildly, “it is my Nina—my wife—my—” + His voice forsook him. Clasped in each other’s arms, the unfortunates for + some moments seemed to have lost even the sense of delight at their + reunion. It was as an unconscious and deep trance, through which something + like a dream only faintly and indistinctively stirs. + </p> + <p> + At length recovered—at length restored, the first broken + exclamations, the first wild caresses of joy over—Nina lifted her + head from her husband’s bosom, and gazed sadly on his countenance—“Oh, + what thou hast known since we parted!—what, since that hour when, + borne on by thy bold heart and wild destiny, thou didst leave me in the + Imperial Court, to seek again the diadem and find the chain! Ah! why did I + heed thy commands?—why suffer thee to depart alone? How often in thy + progress hitherward, in doubt, in danger, might this bosom have been thy + resting-place, and this voice have whispered comfort to thy soul? Thou art + well, my Lord—my Cola! Thy pulse beats quicker than of old—thy + brow is furrowed. Ah! tell me thou art well!” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said Rienzi, mechanically. “Methinks so!—the mind diseased + blunts all sense of bodily decay. Well—yes! And thou—thou, at + least, art not changed, save to maturer beauty. The glory of the + laurel-wreath has not faded from thy brow. Thou shalt yet—” then + breaking off abruptly—“Rome—tell me of Rome! And thou—how + camest thou hither? Ah! perhaps my doom is sealed, and in their mercy they + have vouchsafed that I should see thee once more before the deathsman + blinds me. I remember, it is the grace vouchsafed to malefactors. When I + was a lord of life and death, I too permitted the meanest criminal to say + farewell to those he loved.” + </p> + <p> + “No—not so, Cola!” exclaimed Nina, putting her hand before his + mouth. “I bring thee more auspicious tidings. Tomorrow thou art to be + heard. The favour of the Court is propitiated. Thou wilt be acquitted.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! speak again.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou wilt be heard, my Cola—thou must be acquitted!” + </p> + <p> + “And Rome be free!—Great God, I thank Thee!” + </p> + <p> + The Tribune sank on his knees, and never had his heart, in his youngest + and purest hour, poured forth thanksgiving more fervent, yet less selfish. + When he rose again, the whole man seemed changed. His eye had resumed its + earlier expressions of deep and serene command. Majesty sate upon his + brow. The sorrows of the exile were forgotten. In his sanguine and rapid + thoughts, he stood once more the guardian of his country,—and its + sovereign! + </p> + <p> + Nina gazed upon him with that intense and devoted worship, which steeped + her vainer and her harder qualities in all the fondness of the softest + woman. “Such,” thought she, “was his look eight years ago, when he left my + maiden chamber, full of the mighty schemes which liberated Rome—such + his look, when at the dawning sun he towered amidst the crouching Barons, + and the kneeling population of the city he had made his throne!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, Nina!” said Rienzi, as he turned and caught her eye. “My soul tells + me that my hour is at hand. If they try me openly, they dare not convict—if + they acquit me, they dare not but restore. Tomorrow, saidst thou, + tomorrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Tomorrow, Rienzi; be prepared!” + </p> + <p> + “I am—for triumph! But tell me what happy chance brought thee to + Avignon?” + </p> + <p> + “Chance, Cola!” said Nina, with reproachful tenderness. “Could I know that + thou wert in the dungeons of the Pontiff, and linger in idle security at + Prague? Even at the Emperor’s Court thou hadst thy partisans and + favourers. Gold was easily procured. I repaired to Florence—disguised + my name—and came hither to plot, to scheme, to win thy liberty, or + to die with thee. Ah! did not thy heart tell thee that morning and night + the eyes of thy faithful Nina gazed upon this gloomy tower; and that one + friend, humble though she be, never could forsake thee!” + </p> + <p> + “Sweet Nina! Yet—yet—at Avignon power yields not to beauty + without reward. Remember, there is a worse death than the pause of life.” + </p> + <p> + Nina turned pale. “Fear not,” she said, with a low but determined voice; + “fear not, that men’s lips should say Rienzi’s wife delivered him. None in + this corrupted Court know that I am thy wife.” + </p> + <p> + “Woman,” said the Tribune, sternly; “thy lips elude the answer I would + seek. In our degenerate time and land, thy sex and ours forget too basely + what foulness writes a leprosy in the smallest stain upon a matron’s + honour. That thy heart would never wrong me, I believe; but if thy + weakness, thy fear of my death should wrong me, thou art a bitterer foe to + Rienzi than the swords of the Colonna. Nina, speak!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, that my soul could speak,” answered Nina. “Thy words are music to me, + and not a thought of mine but echoes them. Could I touch this hand, could + I meet that eye, and not know that death were dearer to thee than shame? + Rienzi, when last we parted, in sadness, yet in hope, what were thy words + to me?” + </p> + <p> + “I remember them well,” returned the Tribune: “‘I leave thee,’ I said, ‘to + keep alive at the Emperor’s Court, by thy genius, the Great Cause. Thou + hast youth and beauty—and courts have lawless and ruffian suitors. I + give thee no caution; it were beneath thee and me. But I leave thee the + power of death.’ And with that, Nina—” + </p> + <p> + “Thy hands tremblingly placed in mine this dagger. I live—need I say + more?” + </p> + <p> + “My noble and beloved Nina, it is enough. Keep the dagger yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; till we meet in the Capitol of Rome!” + </p> + <p> + A slight tap was heard at the door; Nina regained, in an instant, her + disguise. + </p> + <p> + “It is on the stroke of midnight,” said the gaoler, appearing at the + threshold. + </p> + <p> + “I come,” said Nina. + </p> + <p> + “And thou hast to prepare thy thoughts,” she whispered to Rienzi: “arm all + thy glorious intellect. Alas! is it again we part? How my heart sinks!” + </p> + <p> + The presence of the gaoler at the threshold broke the bitterness of + parting by abridging it. The false page pressed her lips on the prisoner’s + hand, and left the cell. + </p> + <p> + The gaoler, lingering behind for a moment, placed a parchment on the + table. It was the summons from the court appointed for the trial of the + Tribune. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0048" id="link2HCH0048"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 7.VI. The Scent Does Not Lie.—The Priest and the Soldier. + </h2> + <h3> + On descending the stairs, Nina was met by Alvarez. + </h3> + <p> + “Fair page,” said the Spaniard, gaily, “thy name, thou tellest me, is + Villani?—Angelo Villani—why I know thy kinsman, methinks. + Vouchsafe, young master, to enter this chamber, and drink a night-cup to + thy lady’s health; I would fain learn tidings of my old friends.” + </p> + <p> + “At another time,” answered the false Angelo, drawing the cloak closer + round her face; “it is late—I am hurried.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” said the Spaniard, “you escape me not so easily;” and he caught + firm hold of the page’s shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “Unhand me, sir!” said Nina, haughtily, and almost weeping, for her strong + nerves were yet unstrung. “Gaoler, at thy peril—unbar the gates.” + </p> + <p> + “So hot,” said Alvarez, surprised at so great a waste of dignity in a + page; “nay, I meant not to offend thee. May I wait on thy pageship + tomorrow?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, tomorrow,” said Nina, eager to escape. + </p> + <p> + “And meanwhile,” said Alvarez, “I will accompany thee home—we can + confer by the way.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, without regarding the protestations of the supposed page, he + passed with Nina into the open air. “Your lady,” said he, carelessly, “is + wondrous fair; her lightest will is law to the greatest noble of Avignon. + Methinks she is of Naples—is it so? Art thou dumb, sweet youth?” + </p> + <p> + The page did not answer, but with a step so rapid that it almost put the + slow Spaniard out of breath, hastened along the narrow space between the + tower and the palace of the Signora Cesarini, nor could all the efforts of + Alvarez draw forth a single syllable from his reluctant companion, till + they reached the gates of the palace, and he found himself discourteously + left without the walls. + </p> + <p> + “A plague on the boy!” said he, biting his lips; “if the Cardinal thrive + as well as his servant, by’re Lady, Monsignore is a happy man!” + </p> + <p> + By no means pleased with the prospect of an interview with Albornoz, who, + like most able men, valued the talents of those he employed exactly in + proportion to their success, the Spaniard slowly returned home. With the + licence accorded to him, he entered the Cardinal’s chamber somewhat + abruptly, and perceived him in earnest conversation with a Cavalier, whose + long moustache, curled upward, and the bright cuirass worn underneath his + mantle, seemed to betoken him of martial profession. Pleased with the + respite, Alvarez hastily withdrew: and, in fact, the Cardinal’s thoughts + at that moment, and for that night, were bent upon other subjects than + those of love. + </p> + <p> + The interruption served, however, to shorten the conversation between + Albornoz and his guest. The latter rose. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said he, buckling on a short and broad rapier, which he laid + aside during the interview,—“I think, my Lord Cardinal, you + encourage me to consider that our negotiation stands a fair chance of a + prosperous close. Ten thousand florins, and my brother quits Viterbo, and + launches the thunderbolt of the Company on the lands of Rimini. On your + part—” + </p> + <p> + “On my part it is agreed,” said the Cardinal, “that the army of the Church + interferes not with the course of your brother’s arms—there is peace + between us. One warrior understands another!” + </p> + <p> + “And the word of Giles d’Albornoz, son of the royal race of Arragon, is a + guarantee for the faith of a Cardinal,” replied the Cavalier, with a + smile. “It is, my Lord, in your former quality that we treat.” + </p> + <p> + “There is my right hand,” answered Albornoz, too politic to heed the + insinuation. The Cavalier raised it respectfully to his lips, and his + armed tread was soon heard descending the stairs. + </p> + <p> + “Victory,” cried Albornoz, tossing his arms aloof; “Victory, now thou art + mine!” + </p> + <p> + With that he rose hastily, deposited his papers in an iron chest, and + opening a concealed door behind the arras, entered a chamber that rather + resembled a monk’s cell than the apartment of a prince. Over a mean pallet + hung a sword, a dagger, and a rude image of the Virgin. Without summoning + Alvarez, the Cardinal unrobed, and in a few moments was asleep. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0049" id="link2HCH0049"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 7.VII. Vaucluse and its Genius Loci.—Old Acquaintance + Renewed. + </h2> + <p> + The next day at early noon the Cavalier, whom our last chapter presented + to the reader, was seen mounted on a strong Norman horse, winding his way + slowly along a green and pleasant path some miles from Avignon. At length + he found himself in a wild and romantic valley, through which wandered + that delightful river whose name the verse of Petrarch has given to so + beloved a fame. Sheltered by rocks, and in this part winding through the + greenest banks, enamelled with a thousand wild flowers and water-weeds, + went the crystal Sorgia. Advancing farther, the landscape assumed a more + sombre and sterile aspect. The valley seemed enclosed or shut in by + fantastic rocks of a thousand shapes, down which dashed and glittered a + thousand rivulets. And, in the very wildest of the scene, the ground + suddenly opened into a quaint and cultivated garden, through which, amidst + a profusion of foliage, was seen a small and lonely mansion,—the + hermitage of the place. The horseman was in the valley of the Vaucluse; + and before his eye lay the garden and the house of PETRARCH! Carelessly, + however, his eye scanned the consecrated spot; and unconsciously it + rested, for a moment, upon a solitary figure seated musingly by the margin + of the river. A large dog at the side of the noonday idler barked at the + horseman as he rode on. “A brave animal and a deep bay!” thought the + traveller; to him the dog seemed an object much more interesting than its + master. And so,—as the crowd of little men pass unheeding and + unmoved, those in whom Posterity shall acknowledge the landmarks of their + age,—the horseman turned his glance from the Poet! + </p> + <p> + Thrice blessed name! Immortal Florentine! (I need scarcely say that it is + his origin, not his actual birth, which entitles us to term Petrarch a + Florentine.) not as the lover, nor even as the poet, do I bow before thy + consecrated memory—venerating thee as one it were sacrilege to + introduce in this unworthy page—save by name and as a shadow; but as + the first who ever asserted to people and to prince the august majesty of + Letters; who claimed to Genius the prerogative to influence states, to + control opinion, to hold an empire over the hearts of men, and prepare + events by animating passion, and guiding thought! What, (though but feebly + felt and dimly seen)—what do we yet owe to Thee if Knowledge be now + a Power; if MIND be a Prophet and a Fate, foretelling and foredooming the + things to come! From the greatest to the least of us, to whom the pen is + at once a sceptre and a sword, the low-born Florentine has been the + arch-messenger to smooth the way and prepare the welcome. Yes! even the + meanest of the aftercomers—even he who now vents his gratitude,—is + thine everlasting debtor! Thine, how largely is the honour, if his + labours, humble though they be, find an audience wherever literature is + known; preaching in remotest lands the moral of forgotten revolutions, and + scattering in the palace and the marketplace the seeds that shall ripen + into fruit when the hand of the sower shall be dust, and his very name, + perhaps, be lost! For few, alas! are they, whose names may outlive the + grave; but the thoughts of every man who writes, are made undying;—others + appropriate, advance, exalt them; and millions of minds unknown, undreamt + of, are required to produce the immortality of one! + </p> + <p> + Indulging meditations very different from those which the idea of Petrarch + awakens in a later time, the Cavalier pursued his path. + </p> + <p> + The valley was long left behind, and the way grew more and more faintly + traced, until it terminated in a wood, through whose tangled boughs the + sunlight broke playfully. At length, the wood opened into a wide glade, + from which rose a precipitous ascent, crowned with the ruins of an old + castle. The traveller dismounted, led his horse up the ascent, and, + gaining the ruins, left his steed within one of the roofless chambers, + overgrown with the longest grass and a profusion of wild shrubs; thence + ascending, with some toil, a narrow and broken staircase, he found himself + in a small room, less decayed than the rest, of which the roof and floor + were yet whole. + </p> + <p> + Stretched on the ground in his cloak, and leaning his head thoughtfully on + his hand, was a man of tall stature, and middle age. He lifted himself on + his arm with great alacrity as the Cavalier entered. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Brettone, I have counted the hours—what tidings?” + </p> + <p> + “Albornoz consents.” + </p> + <p> + “Glad news! Thou givest me new life. Pardieu, I shall breakfast all the + better for this, my brother. Hast thou remembered that I am famishing?” + </p> + <p> + Brettone drew from beneath his cloak a sufficiently huge flask of wine, + and a small panier, tolerably well filled; the inmate of the tower threw + himself upon the provant with great devotion. And both the soldiers, for + such they were, stretched at length on the ground, regaled themselves with + considerable zest, talking hastily and familiarly between every mouthful. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Brettone, thou playest unfairly; thou hast already devoured more + than half the pasty: push it hitherward. And so the Cardinal consents! + What manner of man is he? Able as they say?” + </p> + <p> + “Quick, sharp, and earnest, with an eye of fire, few words, and comes to + the point.” + </p> + <p> + “Unlike a priest then;—a good brigand spoilt. What hast thou heard + of the force he heads? Ho, not so fast with the wine.” + </p> + <p> + “Scanty at present.—He relies on recruits throughout Italy.” + </p> + <p> + “What his designs for Rome? There, my brother, there tends my secret soul! + As for these petty towns and petty tyrants, I care not how they fall, or + by whom. But the Pope must not return to Rome. Rome must be mine. The city + of a new empire, the conquest of a new Attila! There, every circumstance + combines in my favour!—the absence of the Pope, the weakness of the + middle class, the poverty of the populace, the imbecile though ferocious + barbarism of the Barons, have long concurred to render Rome the most + facile, while the most glorious conquest!” + </p> + <p> + “My brother, pray Heaven your ambition do not wreck you at last; you are + ever losing sight of the land. Surely with the immense wealth we are + acquiring, we may—” + </p> + <p> + “Aspire to be something greater than Free Companions, generals today, and + adventurers tomorrow. Rememberest thou, how the Norman sword won Sicily, + and how the bastard William converted on the field of Hastings his baton + into a sceptre. I tell thee, Brettone, that this loose Italy has crowns on + the hedge that a dexterous hand may carry off at the point of the lance. + My course is taken, I will form the fairest army in Italy, and with it I + will win a throne in the Capitol. Fool that I was six years ago!—Instead + of deputing that mad dolt Pepin of Minorbino, had I myself deserted the + Hungarian, and repaired with my soldiery to Rome, the fall of Rienzi would + have been followed by the rise of Montreal. Pepin was outwitted, and threw + away the prey after he had hunted it down. The lion shall not again trust + the chase to the jackal!” + </p> + <p> + “Walter, thou speakest of the fate of Rienzi, let it warn thee!” + </p> + <p> + “Rienzi!” replied Montreal; “I know the man! In peaceful times or with an + honest people, he would have founded a great dynasty. But he dreamt of + laws and liberty for men who despise the first and will not protect the + last. We, of a harder race, know that a new throne must be built by the + feudal and not the civil system; and into the city we must transport the + camp. It is by the multitude that the proud Tribune gained power,—by + the multitude he lost it; it is by the sword that I will win it, and by + the sword will I keep it!” + </p> + <p> + “Rienzi was too cruel, he should not have incensed the Barons,” said + Brettone, about to finish the flask, when the strong hand of his brother + plucked it from him, and anticipated the design. + </p> + <p> + “Pooh,” said Montreal, finishing the draught with a long sigh, “he was not + cruel enough. He sought only to be just, and not to distinguish between + noble and peasant. He should have distinguished! He should have + exterminated the nobles root and branch. But this no Italian can do. This + is reserved for me.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou wouldst not butcher all the best blood of Rome?” + </p> + <p> + “Butcher! No, but I would seize their lands, and endow with them a new + nobility, the hardy and fierce nobility of the North, who well know how to + guard their prince, and will guard him, as the fountain of their own + power. Enough of this now. And talking of Rienzi—rots he still in + his dungeon?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, this morning, ere I left, I heard strange news. The town was astir, + groups in every corner. They said that Rienzi’s trial was to be today, and + from the names of the judges chosen, it is suspected that acquittal is + already determined on.” + </p> + <p> + “Ha! thou shouldst have told me of this before.” + </p> + <p> + “Should he be restored to Rome, would it militate against thy plans?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! I know not—deep thought and dexterous management would be + needed. I would fain not leave this spot till I hear what is decided on.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely, Walter, it would have been wiser and safer to have stayed with + thy soldiery, and intrusted me with the absolute conduct of this affair.” + </p> + <p> + “Not so,” answered Montreal; “thou art a bold fellow enough, and a cunning—but + my head in these matters is better than thine. Besides,” continued the + Knight, lowering his voice, and shading his face, “I had vowed a + pilgrimage to the beloved river, and the old trysting-place. Ah me!—But + all this, Brettone, thou understandest not—let it pass. As for my + safety, since we have come to this amnesty with Albornoz, I fear but + little danger even if discovered: besides, I want the florins. There are + those in this country, Germans, who could eat an Italian army at a meal, + whom I would fain engage, and their leaders want earnest-money—the + griping knaves!—How are the Cardinal’s florins to be paid?” + </p> + <p> + “Half now—half when thy troops are before Rimini!” + </p> + <p> + “Rimini! the thought whets my sword. Rememberest thou how that accursed + Malatesta drove me from Aversa, (This Malatesta, a signior of illustrious + family, was one of the most skilful warriors in Italy. He and his brother + Galeotto had been raised to the joint-tyranny of Rimini by the voice of + its citizens. After being long the foes of the Church, they were + ultimately named as its captains by the Cardinal Albornoz.) broke up my + camp, and made me render to him all my booty? There fell the work of + years! But for that, my banner now would be floating over St. Angelo. I + will pay back the debt with fire and sword, ere the summer has shed its + leaves.” + </p> + <p> + The fair countenance of Montreal grew terrible as he uttered these words; + his hands griped the handle of his sword, and his strong frame heaved + visibly; tokens of the fierce and unsparing passions, by the aid of which + a life of rapine and revenge had corrupted a nature originally full no + less of the mercy than the courage of Provencal chivalry. + </p> + <p> + Such was the fearful man who now (the wildness of his youth sobered, and + his ambition hardened and concentered) was the rival with Rienzi for the + mastery of Rome. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0050" id="link2HCH0050"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 7.VIII. The Crowd.—The Trial.—The Verdict.—The + Soldier and + </h2> + <p> + the Page. + </p> + <p> + It was on the following evening that a considerable crowd had gathered in + the streets of Avignon. It was the second day of the examination of + Rienzi, and with every moment was expected the announcement of the + verdict. Amongst the foreigners of all countries assembled in that seat of + the Papal splendour, the interest was intense. The Italians, even of the + highest rank, were in favour of the Tribune, the French against him. As + for the good townspeople of Avignon themselves, they felt but little + excitement in any thing that did not bring money into their pockets; and + if it had been put to the secret vote, no doubt there would have been a + vast majority for burning the prisoner, as a marketable speculation! + </p> + <p> + Amongst the crowd was a tall man in a plain and rusty suit of armour, but + with an air of knightly bearing, which somewhat belied the coarseness of + his mail; he wore no helmet, but a small morion of black leather, with a + long projecting shade, much used by wayfarers in the hot climates of the + south. A black patch covered nearly the whole of one cheek, and altogether + he bore the appearance of a grim soldier, with whom war had dealt harshly, + both in purse and person. + </p> + <p> + Many were the jests at the shabby swordsman’s expense, with which that + lively population amused their impatience; and though the shade of the + morion concealed his eyes, an arch and merry smile about the corners of + his mouth shewed that he could take a jest at himself. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said one of the crowd, (a rich Milanese,) “I am of a state that + was free, and I trust the People’s man will have justice shewn him.” + </p> + <p> + “Amen,” said a grave Florentine. + </p> + <p> + “They say,” whispered a young student from Paris, to a learned doctor of + laws, with whom he abode, “that his defence has been a masterpiece.” + </p> + <p> + “He hath taken no degrees,” replied the doctor, doubtingly. “Ho, friend, + why dost thou push me so? thou hast rent my robe.” + </p> + <p> + This was said to a minstrel, or jongleur, who, with a small lute slung + round him, was making his way, with great earnestness, through the throng. + </p> + <p> + “I beg pardon, worthy sir,” said the minstrel; “but this is a scene to be + sung of! Centuries hence; ay, and in lands remote, legend and song will + tell the fortunes of Cola di Rienzi, the friend of Petrarch and the + Tribune of Rome!” + </p> + <p> + The young French student turned quickly round to the minstrel, with a glow + on his pale face; not sharing the general sentiments of his countrymen + against Rienzi, he felt that it was an era in the world when a minstrel + spoke thus of the heroes of intellect—not of war. + </p> + <p> + At this time the tall soldier was tapped impatiently on the back. + </p> + <p> + “I pray thee, great sir,” said a sharp and imperious voice, “to withdraw + that tall bulk of thine a little on one side—I cannot see through + thee; and I would fain my eyes were among the first to catch a glimpse of + Rienzi as he passes from the court.” + </p> + <p> + “Fair sir page,” replied the soldier, good-humouredly, as he made way for + Angelo Villani, “thou wilt not always find that way in the world is won by + commanding the strong. When thou art older thou wilt beard the weak, and + the strong thou wilt wheedle.” + </p> + <p> + “I must change my nature, then,” answered Angelo, (who was of somewhat + small stature, and not yet come to his full growth,) trying still to raise + himself above the heads of the crowd. + </p> + <p> + The soldier looked at him approvingly; and as he looked he sighed, and his + lips worked with some strange emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Thou speakest well,” said he, after a pause. “Pardon me the rudeness of + the question; but art thou of Italy?—thy tongue savours of the Roman + dialect; yet I have seen lineaments like thine on this side the Alps.” + </p> + <p> + “It may be, good fellow,” said the page, haughtily; “but I thank Heaven + that I am of Rome.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment a loud shout burst from that part of the crowd nearest the + court. The sound of trumpets again hushed the throng into deep and + breathless silence, while the Pope’s guards, ranged along the space + conducting from the court, drew themselves up more erect, and fell a step + or two back upon the crowd. + </p> + <p> + As the trumpet ceased, the voice of a herald was heard, but it did not + penetrate within several yards of the spot where Angelo and the soldier + stood; and it was only by a mighty shout that in a moment circled through, + and was echoed back by, the wide multitude—by the waving of + kerchiefs from the windows—by broken ejaculations, which were caught + up from lip to lip, that the page knew that Rienzi was acquitted. + </p> + <p> + “I would I could see his face!” sighed the page, querulously. + </p> + <p> + “And thou shalt,” said the soldier; and he caught up the boy in his arms, + and pressed on with the strength of a giant, parting the living stream + from right to left, as he took his way to a place near the guards, and by + which Rienzi was sure to pass. + </p> + <p> + The page, half-pleased, half-indignant, struggled a little, but finding it + in vain, consented tacitly to what he felt an outrage on his dignity. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind,” said the soldier, “thou art the first I ever willingly + raised above myself; and I do it now for the sake of thy fair face, which + reminds me of one I loved.” + </p> + <p> + But these last words were spoken low, and the boy, in his anxiety to see + the hero of Rome, did not hear or heed them. Presently Rienzi came by; two + gentlemen, of the Pope’s own following, walked by his side. He moved + slowly, amidst the greetings and clamour of the crowd, looking neither to + the right nor left. His bearing was firm and collected, and, save by the + flush of his cheek, there was no external sign of joy or excitement. + Flowers dropped from every balcony on his path; and just when he came to a + broader space, where the ground was somewhat higher, and where he was in + fuller view of the houses around, he paused—and, uncovering, + acknowledged the homage he had received, with a look—a gesture—which + each who beheld never forgot. It haunted even that gay and thoughtless + court, when the last tale of Rienzi’s life reached their ears. And Angelo, + clinging then round that soldier’s neck, recalled—but we must not + anticipate. + </p> + <p> + It was not, however, to the dark tower that Rienzi returned. His home was + prepared at the palace of the Cardinal d’Albornoz. The next day he was + admitted to the Pope’s presence, and on the evening of that day he was + proclaimed Senator of Rome. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the soldier had placed Angelo on the ground; and as the page + faltered out no courteous thanks, he interrupted him in a sad and kind + voice, the tone of which struck the page forcibly, so little did it suit + the rough and homely appearance of the man. + </p> + <p> + “We part,” he said, “as strangers, fair boy; and since thou sayest thou + art of Rome, there is no reason why my heart should have warmed to thee as + it has done; yet if ever thou wantest a friend,—seek him”—and + the soldier’s voice sunk into a whisper—“in Walter de Montreal.” + </p> + <p> + Ere the page recovered his surprise at that redoubted name, which his + earliest childhood had been taught to dread, the Knight of St. John had + vanished amongst the crowd. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0051" id="link2HCH0051"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 7.IX. Albornoz and Nina. + </h2> + <p> + But the eyes which, above all others, thirsted for a glimpse of the + released captive were forbidden that delight. Alone in her chamber, Nina + awaited the result of the trial. She heard the shouts, the exclamations, + the tramp of thousands along the street; she felt that the victory was + won; and, her heart long overcharged, she burst into passionate tears. The + return of Angelo soon acquainted her with all that had passed; but it + somewhat chilled her joy to find Rienzi was the guest of the dreaded + Cardinal. That shock, in which certainty, however happy, replaces + suspense, had so powerful an effect on her frame, joined to her loathing + fear of a visit from the Cardinal, that she became for three days + alarmingly ill; and it was only on the fifth day from that which saw + Rienzi endowed with the rank of Senator of Rome, that she was recovered + sufficiently to admit Albornoz to her presence. + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal had sent daily to inquire after her health, and his + inquiries, to her alarmed mind, had appeared to insinuate a pretension to + the right to make them. Meanwhile Albornoz had had enough to divert and + occupy his thoughts. Having bought off the formidable Montreal from the + service of John de Vico, one of the ablest and fiercest enemies of the + Church, he resolved to march to the territories of that tyrant as + expeditiously as possible, and so not to allow him time to obtain the + assistance of any other band of the mercenary adventurers, who found Italy + the market for their valour. Occupied with raising troops, procuring + money, corresponding with the various free states, and establishing + alliances in aid of his ulterior and more ambitious projects at the court + of Avignon, the Cardinal waited with tolerable resignation the time when + he might claim from the Signora Cesarini the reward to which he deemed + himself entitled. Meanwhile he had held his first conversations with + Rienzi, and, under the semblance of courtesy to the acquitted Tribune, + Albornoz had received him as his guest, in order to make himself master of + the character and disposition of one in whom he sought a minister and a + tool. That miraculous and magic art, attested by the historians of the + time, which Rienzi possessed over every one with whom he came into + contact, however various in temper, station, or opinions, had not deserted + him in his interview with the Pontiff. So faithfully had he described the + true condition of Rome, so logically had he traced the causes and the + remedies of the evils she endured, so sanguinely had he spoken of his own + capacities for administering her affairs, and so brilliantly had he + painted the prospects which that administration opened to the weal of the + Church, and the interests of the Pope, that Innocent, though a keen and + shrewd, and somewhat sceptical calculator of human chances, was entirely + fascinated by the eloquence of the Roman. + </p> + <p> + “Is this the man,” he is reported to have said, “whom for twelve months we + have treated as a prisoner and a criminal? Would that it were on his + shoulders only that the Christian empire reposed!” + </p> + <p> + At the close of the interview he had, with every mark of favour and + distinction, conferred upon Rienzi the rank of Senator, which, in fact, + was that of Viceroy of Rome, and had willingly acceded to all the projects + which the enterprising Rienzi had once more formed—not only for + recovering the territories of the Church, but for extending the + dictatorial sway of the Seven-hilled City, over the old dependencies of + Italy. + </p> + <p> + Albornoz, to whom the Pope retailed this conversation, was somewhat + jealous of the favour the new Senator had so suddenly acquired, and + immediately on his return home sought an interview with his guest. In his + heart, the Lord Cardinal, emphatically a man of action and business, + regarded Rienzi as one rather cunning than wise—rather fortunate + than great—a mixture of the pedant and the demagogue. But after a + long and scrutinizing conversation with the new Senator, even he yielded + to the spell of his enchanting and master intellect. Reluctantly Albornoz + confessed to himself that Rienzi’s rise was not the thing of chance; yet + more reluctantly he perceived that the Senator was one whom he might treat + with as an equal, but could not rule as a minion. And he entertained + serious doubts whether it would be wise to reinstate him in a power which + he evinced the capacity to wield and the genius to extend. Still, however, + he did not repent the share he had taken in Rienzi’s acquittal. His + presence in a camp so thinly peopled was a matter greatly to be desired. + And through his influence, the Cardinal more than ever trusted to enlist + the Romans in favour of his enterprise for the recovery of the territory + of St. Peter! + </p> + <p> + Rienzi, who panted once more to behold his Nina, endeared to him by trial + and absence, as by fresh bridals, was not however able to discover the + name she had assumed at Avignon; and his residence with the Cardinal + closely but respectfully watched as he was, forbade Nina all opportunity + of corresponding with him. Some half bantering hints which Albornoz had + dropped upon the interest taken in his welfare by the most celebrated + beauty of Avignon, had filled him with a vague alarm which he trembled to + acknowledge even to himself. But the volto sciolto (Volto sciolto, + pensieri stretti—the countenance open, the thoughts restrained.) + which, in common with all Italian politicians, concealed whatever were his + pensieri stretti—enabled him to baffle completely the jealous and + lynxlike observation of the Cardinal. Nor had Alvarez been better enabled + to satisfy the curiosity of his master. He had indeed sought the page + Villani, but the imperious manner of that wayward and haughty boy had cut + short all attempts at cross-examination. And all he could ascertain was, + that the real Angelo Villani was not the Angelo Villani who had visited + Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + Trusting at last that he should learn all, and inflamed by such passion + and such hope as he was capable of feeling, Albornoz now took his way to + the Cesarini’s palace. + </p> + <p> + He was ushered with due state into the apartment of the Signora. He found + her pale, and with the traces of illness upon her noble and statuelike + features. She rose as he entered; and when he approached, she half bent + her knee, and raised his hand to her lips. Surprised and delighted at a + reception so new, the Cardinal hastened to prevent the condescension; + retaining both her hands, he attempted gently to draw them to his heart. + </p> + <p> + “Fairest!” he whispered, “couldst thou know hear I have mourned thy + illness—and yet it has but left thee more lovely, as the rain only + brightens the flower. Ah! happy if I have promoted thy lightest wish, and + if in thine eyes I may henceforth seek at once an angel to guide me and a + paradise to reward.” + </p> + <p> + Nina, releasing her hand, waved it gently, and motioned the Cardinal to a + seat. Seating herself at a little distance, she then spoke with great + gravity and downcast eyes. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord, it is your intercession, joined to his own innocence, that has + released from yonder tower the elected governor of the people of Rome. But + freedom is the least of the generous gifts you have conferred; there is a + greater in a fair name vindicated, and rightful honours re-bestowed. For + this, I rest ever your debtor; for this, if I bear children, they shall be + taught to bless your name; for this the historian who recalls the deeds of + this age, and the fortunes of Cola di Rienzi, shall add a new chaplet to + the wreaths you have already won. Lord Cardinal, I may have erred. I may + have offended you—you may accuse me of woman’s artifice. Speak not, + wonder not, hear me out. I have but one excuse, when I say that I held + justified any means short of dishonour, to save the life and restore the + fortunes of Cola di Rienzi. Know, my Lord, that she who now addresses you + is his wife.” + </p> + <p> + The Cardinal remained motionless and silent. But his sallow countenance + grew flushed from the brow to the neck, and his thin lips quivered for a + moment, and then broke into a withering and bitter smile. At length he + rose from his seat, very slowly, and said, in a voice trembling with + passion, + </p> + <p> + “It is well, madam. Giles d’Albornoz has been, then, a puppet in the + hands, a stepping-stone in the rise, of the plebeian demagogue of Rome. + You but played upon me for your own purposes; and nothing short of a + Cardinal of Spain, and a Prince of the royal blood of Aragon, was meet to + be the instrument of a mountebank’s juggle! Madam, yourself and your + husband might justly be accused of ambition—” + </p> + <p> + “Cease, my Lord,” said Nina, with unspeakable dignity; “whatever offence + has been committed against you was mine alone. Till after our last + interview, Rienzi knew not even of my presence at Avignon.” + </p> + <p> + “At our last interview, Lady, (you do well to recall it!) methinks there + was a hinted and implied contract. I have fulfilled my part—I claim + yours. Mark me! I do not forego that claim. As easily as I rend this glove + can I rend the parchment which proclaims thy husband ‘the Senator of + Rome.’ The dungeon is not death, and its door will open twice.” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord—my Lord!” cried Nina, sick with terror, “wrong not so your + noble nature, your great name, your sacred rank, your chivalric blood. You + are of the knightly race of Spain, yours not the sullen, low, and + inexorable vices that stain the petty tyrants of this unhappy land. You + are no Visconti—no Castracani—you cannot stain your laurels + with revenge upon a woman. Hear me,” she continued, and she fell abruptly + at his feet; “men dupe, deceive our sex—and for selfish purposes; + they are pardoned—even by their victims. Did I deceive you with a + false hope? Well—what my object?—what my excuse? My husband’s + liberty—my land’s salvation! Woman,—my Lord, alas, your sex + too rarely understand her weakness or her greatness! Erring—all + human as she is to others—God gifts her with a thousand virtues to + the one she loves! It is from that love that she alone drinks her nobler + nature. For the hero of her worship she has the meekness of the dove—the + devotion of the saint; for his safety in peril, for his rescue in + misfortune, her vain sense imbibes the sagacity of the serpent—her + weak heart, the courage of the lioness! It is this which, in absence, made + me mask my face in smiles, that the friends of the houseless exile might + not despair of his fate—it is this which brought me through forests + beset with robbers, to watch the stars upon yon solitary tower—it + was this which led my steps to the revels of your hated court—this + which made me seek a deliverer in the noblest of its chiefs—it is + this which has at last opened the dungeon door to the prisoner now within + your halls; and this, Lord Cardinal,” added Nina, rising, and folding her + arms upon her heart—“this, if your anger seeks a victim, will + inspire me to die without a groan,—but without dishonour!” + </p> + <p> + Albornoz remained rooted to the ground. Amazement—emotion—admiration—all + busy at his heart. He gazed at Nina’s flashing eyes and heaving bosom as a + warrior of old upon a prophetess inspired. His eyes were riveted to hers + as by a spell. He tried to speak, but his voice failed him. Nina + continued: + </p> + <p> + “Yes, my Lord; these are no idle words! If you seek revenge, it is in your + power. Undo what you have done. Give Rienzi back to the dungeon, or to + disgrace, and you are avenged; but not on him. All the hearts of Italy + shall become to him a second Nina! I am the guilty one, and I the + sufferer. Hear me swear—in that instant which sees new wrong to + Rienzi, this hand is my executioner.—My Lord, I supplicate you no + longer!” + </p> + <p> + Albornoz continued deeply moved. Nina but rightly judged him, when she + distinguished the aspiring Spaniard from the barbarous and unrelenting + voluptuaries of Italy. Despite the profligacy that stained his sacred robe—despite + all the acquired and increasing callousness of a hard, scheming, and + sceptical man, cast amidst the worst natures of the worst of times—there + lingered yet in his soul much of the knightly honour of his race and + country. High thoughts and daring spirits touched a congenial string in + his heart, and not the less, in that he had but rarely met them in his + experience of camps and courts. For the first time in his life, he felt + that he had seen the woman who could have contented him even with wedlock, + and taught him the proud and faithful love of which the minstrels of Spain + had sung. He sighed, and still gazing on Nina, approached her, almost + reverentially; he knelt and kissed the hem of her robe. “Lady,” he said, + “I would I could believe that you have altogether read my nature aright, + but I were indeed lost to all honour, and unworthy of gentle birth, if I + still harboured a single thought against the peace and virtue of one like + thee. Sweet heroine,”—he continued—“so lovely, yet so pure—so + haughty, and yet so soft—thou hast opened to me the brightest page + these eyes have ever scanned in the blotted volume of mankind. Mayest thou + have such happiness as life can give; but souls such as thine make their + nest like the eagle, upon rocks and amidst the storms. Fear me no more—think + of me no more—unless hereafter, when thou hearest men speak of Giles + d’Albornoz, thou mayest say in thine own heart,”—and here the + Cardinal’s lip curled with scorn—“he did not renounce every feeling + worthy of a man, when Ambition and Fate endued him with the surplice of + the priest.” + </p> + <p> + The Spaniard was gone before Nina could reply. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0062" id="link2H_4_0062"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK VIII. THE GRAND COMPANY. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Montreal nourrissoit de plus vastes projets...il donnoit a + sa campagnie un gouvernement regulier...Par cette discipline + il faisoit regner l’abondance dans son camp; les gens de + guerre ne parloient, en Italie, que des richesses qu’on + acqueroit a son service.”—Sismondi, “Histoire des + Republiques Italiennes”, tom. vi. c. 42. + + “Montreal cherished more vast designs...he subjected his + company to a regular system of government...By means of this + discipline he kept his camp abundantly supplied, and + military adventurers in Italy talked of nothing but the + wealth won in his service.”—Sismondi’s “History of Italian + Republics”. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0052" id="link2HCH0052"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 8.I. The Encampment. + </h2> + <p> + It was a most lovely day, in the very glow and meridian of an Italian + summer, when a small band of horsemen were seen winding a hill which + commanded one of the fairest landscapes of Tuscany. At their head was a + cavalier in a complete suit of chain armour, the links of which were so + fine, that they resembled a delicate and curious network, but so strongly + compacted, that they would have resisted spear or sword no less + effectually than the heaviest corselet, while adapting themselves exactly + and with ease to every movement of the light and graceful shape of the + rider. He wore a hat of dark green velvet shaded by long plumes, while of + two squires behind, the one bore his helmet and lance, the other led a + strong warhorse, completely cased in plates of mail, which seemed, + however, scarcely to encumber its proud and agile paces. The countenance + of the cavalier was comely, but strongly marked, and darkened, by long + exposure to the suns of many climes, to a deep bronze hue: a few raven + ringlets escaped from beneath his hat down a cheek closely shaven. The + expression of his features was grave and composed even to sadness; nor + could all the loveliness of the unrivalled scene before him dispel the + quiet and settled melancholy of his eyes. Besides the squires, ten + horsemen, armed cap-a-pie, attended the knight; and the low and murmured + conversation they carried on at intervals, as well as their long fair + hair, large stature, thick short beards, and the studied and accurate + equipment of their arms and steeds, bespoke them of a hardier and more + warlike race than the children of the south. The cavalcade was closed with + a man almost of gigantic height, bearing a banner richly decorated, + wherein was wrought a column, with the inscription, “ALONE AMIDST RUINS.” + Fair indeed was the prospect which with every step expanded yet more + widely its various beauty. Right before stretched a long vale, now covered + with green woodlands glittering in the yellow sunlight, now opening into + narrow plains bordered by hillocks, from whose mosses of all hues grew + fantastic and odorous shrubs; while, winding amidst them, a broad and + silver stream broke into light at frequent intervals, snatched by wood and + hillock from the eye, only to steal upon it again, in sudden and bright + surprise. The opposite slope of gentle mountains, as well as that which + the horsemen now descended, was covered with vineyards, trained in alleys + and arcades: and the clustering grape laughed from every leafy and glossy + covert, as gaily as when the Fauns held a holiday in the shade. The eye of + the Cavalier roved listlessly over this enchanting prospect, sleeping in + the rosiest light of a Tuscan heaven, and then became fixed with a more + earnest attention on the grey and frowning walls of a distant castle, + which, high upon the steepest of the opposite mountains, overlooked the + valley. + </p> + <p> + “Behold,” he muttered to himself, “how every Eden in Italy hath its curse! + Wherever the land smiles fairest, be sure to find the brigand’s tent and + the tyrant’s castle!” + </p> + <p> + Scarce had these thoughts passed his mind, ere the shrill and sudden blast + of a bugle that sounded close amongst the vineyards by the side of the + path startled the whole group. The cavalcade halted abruptly. The leader + made a gesture to the squire who led his war-horse. The noble and + practised animal remained perfectly still, save by champing its bit + restlessly, and moving its quick ear to and fro, as aware of a coming + danger,—while the squire, unencumbered by the heavy armour of the + Germans, plunged into the thicket and disappeared. He returned in a few + minutes, already heated and breathless. + </p> + <p> + “We must be on our guard,” he whispered; “I see the glimmer of steel + through the vine leaves.” + </p> + <p> + “Our ground is unhappily chosen,” said the Knight, hastily bracing on his + helmet and leaping on his charger; and waving his hand towards a broader + space in the road, which would permit the horsemen more room to act in + union, with his small band he made hastily to the spot—the armour of + the soldiers rattling heavily as two by two they proceeded on. + </p> + <p> + The space to which the Cavalier had pointed was a green semicircle of + several yards in extent, backed by tangled copses of brushwood sloping + down to the vale below. They reached it in safety; they drew up breast to + breast in the form of a crescent: every visor closed save that of the + Knight, who looked anxiously and keenly round the landscape. + </p> + <p> + “Hast thou heard, Giulio,” he said, to his favourite squire, (the only + Italian of the band,) “whether any brigands have been seen lately in these + parts?” + </p> + <p> + “No, my Lord; on the contrary, I am told that every lance hath left the + country to join the Grand Company of Fra Moreale. The love of his pay and + plunder has drawn away the mercenaries of every Tuscan Signor.” + </p> + <p> + As he ceased speaking, the bugle sounded again from nearly the same spot + as before; it was answered by a brief and martial note from the very rear + of the horsemen. At the same moment, from the thickets behind, broke the + gleam of mail and spears. One after another, rank after rank, from the + copse behind them, emerged men-at-arms, while suddenly, from the vines in + front, still greater numbers poured forth with loud and fierce shouts. + </p> + <p> + “For God, for the Emperor, and for the Colonna!” cried the Knight, closing + his visor; and the little band, closely serried, the lance in every rest, + broke upon the rush of the enemy in front. A score or so, borne to the + ground by the charge, cleared a path for the horsemen, and, without + waiting the assault of the rest, the Knight wheeled his charger and led + the way down the hill, almost at full gallop, despite the roughness of the + descent: a flight of arrows despatched after them fell idly on their iron + mail. + </p> + <p> + “If they have no horse,” cried the Knight, “we are saved!” + </p> + <p> + And, indeed, the enemy seemed scarcely to think of pursuing them; but + (gathered on the brow of a hill) appeared contented to watch their flight. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly a curve in the road brought them before a broad and wide patch of + waste land, which formed almost a level surface, interrupting the descent + of the mountain. On the commencement of this waste, drawn up in still + array, the sunlight broke on the breastplates of a long line of horsemen, + whom the sinuosities of the road had hitherto concealed from the Knight + and his party. + </p> + <p> + The little troop halted abruptly—retreat—advance alike cut + off; gazing first at the foe before them, that remained still as a cloud, + every eye was then turned towards the Knight. + </p> + <p> + “An thou wouldst, my Lord,” said the leader of the Northmen, perceiving + the irresolution of their chief, “we will fight to the last. You are the + only Italian I ever knew whom I would willingly die for!” + </p> + <p> + This rude profession was received with a sympathetic murmur from the rest, + and the soldiers drew closer around the Knight. “Nay, my brave fellows,” + said the Colonna, lifting his visor, “it is not in so inglorious a field, + after such various fortunes, that we are doomed to perish. If these be + brigands, as we must suppose, we can yet purchase our way. If the troops + of some Signor, we are strangers to the feud in which he is engaged. Give + me yon banner—I will ride on to them.” + </p> + <p> + “Nay, my Lord,” said Giulio; “such marauders do not always spare a flag of + truce. There is danger—” + </p> + <p> + “For that reason your leader braves it. Quick!” + </p> + <p> + The Knight took the banner, and rode deliberately up to the horsemen. On + approaching, his warlike eye could not but admire the perfect caparison of + their arms, the strength and beauty of their steeds, and the steady + discipline of their long and glittering line. + </p> + <p> + As he rode up, and his gorgeous banner gleamed in the noonlight, the + soldiers saluted him. It was a good omen, and he hailed it as such. “Fair + sirs,” said the Knight, “I come, at once herald and leader of the little + band who have just escaped the unlooked-for assault of armed men on yonder + hill—and, claiming aid, as knight from knight, and soldier from + soldier, I place my troop under the protection of your leader. Suffer me + to see him.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Knight,” answered one, who seemed the captain of the band, “sorry am + I to detain one of your gallant bearing, and still more so, on recognising + the device of one of the most potent houses of Italy. But our orders are + strict, and we must bring all armed men to the camp of our General.” + </p> + <p> + “Long absent from my native land, I knew not,” replied the Knight, “that + there was war in Tuscany. Permit me to crave the name of the general whom + you speak of, and that of the foe against whom ye march.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain smiled slightly. + </p> + <p> + “Walter de Montreal is the General of the Great Company, and Florence his + present foe.” + </p> + <p> + “We have fallen, then, into friendly, if fierce, hands,” replied the + Knight, after a moment’s pause. “To Sir Walter de Montreal I am known of + old. Permit me to return to my companions, and acquaint them that if + accident has made us prisoners, it is, at least, only to the most skilful + warrior of his day that we are condemned to yield.” + </p> + <p> + The Italian then turned his horse to join his comrades. + </p> + <p> + “A fair Knight and a bold presence,” said the Captain of the Companions to + his neighbour, “though I scarce think it is the party we are ordered to + intercept. Praised be the Virgin, however, his men seem from the North. + Them, perhaps, we may hope to enlist.” + </p> + <p> + The Knight now, with his comrades, rejoined the troop. And, on receiving + their parole not to attempt escape, a detachment of thirty horsemen were + despatched to conduct the prisoners to the encampment of the Great + Company. + </p> + <p> + Turning from the main road, the Knight found himself conducted into a + narrow defile between the hills, which, succeeded by a gloomy track of + wild forest-land, brought the party at length into a full and abrupt view + of a wide plain, covered with the tents of what, for Italian warfare, was + considered a mighty army. A stream, over which rude and hasty bridges had + been formed from the neighbouring timber, alone separated the horsemen + from the encampment. + </p> + <p> + “A noble sight!” said the captive Cavalier, with enthusiasm, as he reined + in his steed, and gazed upon the wild and warlike streets of canvass, + traversing each other in vistas broad and regular. + </p> + <p> + One of the captains of the Great Company who rode beside him, smiled + complacently. + </p> + <p> + “There are few masters of the martial art who equal Fra Moreale,” said he; + “and savage, reckless, and gathered from all parts and all countries—from + cavern and from marketplace, from prison and from palace, as are his + troops, he has reduced them already into a discipline which might shame + even the soldiery of the Empire.” + </p> + <p> + The Knight made no reply; but, spurring his horse over one of the rugged + bridges, soon found himself amidst the encampment. But that part at which + he entered little merited the praises bestowed upon the discipline of the + army. A more unruly and disorderly array, the Cavalier, accustomed to the + stern regularity of English, French, and German discipline, thought he had + never beheld: here and there, fierce, unshaven, half-naked brigands might + be seen, driving before them the cattle which they had just collected by + predatory excursions. Sometimes a knot of dissolute women stood—chattering, + scolding, gesticulating—collected round groups of wild shagged + Northmen, who, despite the bright purity of the summer-noon, were already + engaged in deep potations. Oaths, and laughter, and drunken merriment, and + fierce brawl, rang from side to side; and ever and anon some hasty + conflict with drawn knives was begun and finished by the fiery and savage + bravoes of Calabria or the Apennines, before the very eyes and almost in + the very path of the troop. Tumblers, and mountebanks, and jugglers, and + Jew pedlers, were exhibiting their tricks or their wares at every + interval, apparently well inured to the lawless and turbulent market in + which they exercised their several callings. Despite the protection of the + horsemen who accompanied them, the prisoners were not allowed to pass + without molestation. Groups of urchins, squalid, fierce, and ragged, + seemed to start from the ground, and surrounded their horses like swarms + of bees, uttering the most discordant cries; and, with the gestures of + savages, rather demanding than beseeching money, which, when granted, + seemed only to render them more insatiable. While, sometimes mingled with + the rest, were seen the bright eyes and olive cheek, and half-pleading, + half-laughing smile of girls, whose extreme youth, scarce emerged from + childhood, rendered doubly striking their utter and unredeemed + abandonment. + </p> + <p> + “You did not exaggerate the decorum of the Grand Company!” cried the + Knight, gravely, to his new acquaintance. + </p> + <p> + “Signor,” replied the other, “you must not judge of the kernel by the + shell. We are scarcely yet arrived at the camp. These are the outskirts, + occupied rather by the rabble than the soldiers. Twenty thousand men from + the sink, it must be owned, of every town in Italy, follow the camp, to + fight if necessary, but rather for plunder, and for forage:—such you + now behold. Presently you will see those of another stamp.” + </p> + <p> + The Knight’s heart swelled high. “And to such men is Italy given up!” + thought he. His revery was broken by a loud burst of applause from some + convivialists hard by. He turned, and under a long tent, and round a board + covered with wine and viands, sate some thirty or forty bravoes. A ragged + minstrel, or jongleur, with an immense beard and mustachios, was tuning, + with no inconsiderable skill, a lute which had accompanied him in all his + wanderings—and suddenly changing its notes into a wild and warlike + melody, he commenced in a loud and deep voice the following song:— + </p> + <p> + The Praise of the Grand Company. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + 1. + + Ho, dark one from the golden South,— + Ho, fair one from the North; + Ho, coat of mail and spear of sheen— + Ho, wherefore ride ye forth? + “We come from mount, we come from cave, + We come across the sea, + In long array, in bright array, + To Montreal’s Companie.” + Oh, the merry, merry band. + Light heart, and heavy hand— + Oh, the Lances of the Free! + + 2. + + Ho, Princes of the castled height— + Ho, Burghers of the town; + Apulia’s strength, Romagna’s pride, + And Tusca’s old renown! + Why quail ye thus? why pale ye thus? + What spectre do ye see? + “The blood-red flag, and trampling march, + Of Montreal’s Companie.” + Oh, the sunshine of your life— + Oh, the thunders of your strife! + Wild Lances of the Free! + + 3. + + Ho, scutcheons o’er the vaulted tomb + Where Norman valour sleeps, + Why shake ye so? why quake ye so! + What wind the trophy sweeps? + “We shake without a breath—below, + The dead are stirred to see, + The Norman’s fame revived again + In Montreal’s Companie.” + Since Roger won his crown, + Who hath equalled your renown, + Brave Lances of the Free? + + 4. + + Ho, ye who seek to win a name, + Where deeds are bravest done— + Ho, ye who wish to pile a heap, + Where gold is lightest won; + Ho, ye who loathe the stagnant life, + Or shun the law’s decree, + Belt on the brand, and spur the steed, + To Montreal’s Companie. + And the maid shall share her rest, + And the miser share his chest, + With the Lances of the Free! + The Free! + The Free! + Oh! the Lances of the Free! +</pre> + <p> + Then suddenly, as if inspired to a wilder flight by his own minstrelsy, + the jongleur, sweeping his hand over the chords, broke forth into an air + admirably expressive of the picture which his words, running into a rude, + but lively and stirring doggerel, attempted to paint. + </p> + <p> + The March of the Grand Company. + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Tira, tirala—trumpet and drum— + Rising bright o’er the height of the mountain they come! + German, and Hun, and the Islandrie, + Who routed the Frenchman at famed Cressie, + When the rose changed its hue with the fleur-de-lis; + With the Roman, and Lombard, and Piedmontese, + And the dark-haired son of the southern seas. + Tira, tirala—more near and near + Down the steep—see them sweep;—rank by rank they appear! + With the Cloud of the Crowd hanging dark at their rear— + Serried, and steadied, and orderlie, + Like the course—like the force—of a marching sea! + Open your gates, and out with your gold, + For the blood must be spilt, or the ransom be told! + Woe, Burghers, woe! Behold them led + By the stoutest arm and the wisest head, + With the snow-white cross on the cloth of red;— + With the eagle eye, and the lion port, + His barb for a throne, and his camp for a court: + Sovereign and scourge of the land is he— + The kingly Knight of the Companie! + Hurrah—hurrah—hurrah! + Hurrah for the army—hurrah for its lord— + Hurrah for the gold that is got by the sword— + Hurrah—hurrah—hurrah! + For the Lances of the Free! +</pre> + <p> + Shouted by the full chorus of those desperate boon-companions, and caught + up and re-echoed from side to side, near and far, as the familiar and + well-known words of the burthen reached the ears of more distant groups or + stragglers, the effect of this fierce and licentious minstrelsy was + indescribable. It was impossible not to feel the zest which that daring + life imparted to its daring followers, and even the gallant and stately + Knight who listened to it, reproved himself for an involuntary thrill of + sympathy and pleasure. + </p> + <p> + He turned with some impatience and irritation to his companion, who had + taken a part in the chorus, and said, “Sir, to the ears of an Italian + noble, conscious of the miseries of his country, this ditty is not + welcome. I pray you, let us proceed.” + </p> + <p> + “I humbly crave your pardon, Signor,” said the Free Companion; “but really + so attractive is the life led by Free Lances, under Fra Moreale, that + sometimes we forget the—; but pardon me—we will on.” + </p> + <p> + A few moments more, and bounding over a narrow circumvallation, the party + found themselves in a quarter, animated indeed, but of a wholly different + character of animation. Long lines of armed men were drawn up on either + side of a path, conducting to a large marquee, placed upon a little + hillock, surmounted by a blue flag, and up this path armed soldiers were + passing to and fro with great order, but with a pleased and complacent + expression upon their swarthy features. Some that repaired to the marquee + were bearing packets and bales upon their shoulders—those that + returned seemed to have got rid of their burthens, but every now and then, + impatiently opening their hands, appeared counting and recounting to + themselves the coins contained therein. + </p> + <p> + The Knight looked inquiringly at his companion. + </p> + <p> + “It is the marquee of the merchants,” said the captain; “they have free + admission to the camp, and their property and persons are rigidly + respected. They purchase each soldier’s share of the plunder at fair + prices, and either party is contented with the bargain.” + </p> + <p> + “It seems, then, that there is some kind of rude justice observed amongst + you,” said the Knight. + </p> + <p> + “Rude! Diavolo! Not a town in Italy but would be glad of such even + justice, and such impartial laws. Yonder lie the tents of the judges, + appointed to try all offences of soldier against soldier. To the right, + the tent with the golden ball contains the treasurer of the army. Fra + Moreale incurs no arrears with his soldiery.” + </p> + <p> + It was, indeed, by these means that the Knight of St. John had collected + the best equipped and the best contented force in Italy. Every day brought + him recruits. Nothing was spoken of amongst the mercenaries of Italy but + the wealth acquired in his service, and every warrior in the pay of + Republic or of Tyrant sighed for the lawless standard of Fra Moreale. + Already had exaggerated tales of the fortunes to be made in the ranks of + the Great Company passed the Alps; and, even now, the Knight, penetrating + farther into the camp, beheld from many a tent the proud banners and + armorial blazon of German nobility and Gallic knighthood. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” said the Free Companion, pointing to these insignia, “we are + not without our different ranks in our wild city. And while we speak, many + a golden spur is speeding hitherward from the North!” + </p> + <p> + All now in the quarter they had entered was still and solemn; only afar + came the mingled hum, or the sudden shout of the pandemonium in the rear, + mellowed by distance to a not unpleasing sound. An occasional soldier, + crossing their path, stalked silently and stealthily to some neighbouring + tent, and seemed scarcely to regard their approach. + </p> + <p> + “Behold! we are before the General’s pavilion,” said the Free Lance. + </p> + <p> + Blazoned with purple and gold, the tent of Montreal lay a little apart + from the rest. A brooklet from the stream they had crossed murmured + gratefully on the ear, and a tall and wide-spreading beech cast its shadow + over the gorgeous canvass. + </p> + <p> + While his troop waited without, the knight was conducted at once to the + presence of the formidable adventurer. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0053" id="link2HCH0053"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 8.II. Adrian Once More the Guest of Montreal. + </h2> + <p> + Montreal was sitting at the head of a table, surrounded by men, some + military, some civil, whom he called his councillors, and with whom he + apparently debated all his projects. These men, drawn from various cities, + were intimately acquainted with the internal affairs of the several states + to which they belonged. They could tell to a fraction the force of a + signor, the wealth of a merchant, the power of a mob. And thus, in his + lawless camp, Montreal presided, not more as a general than a statesman. + Such knowledge was invaluable to the chief of the Great Company. It + enabled him to calculate exactly the time to attack a foe, and the sum to + demand for a suppression of hostilities. He knew what parties to deal with—where + to importune—where to forbear. And it usually happened that, by some + secret intrigue, the appearance of Montreal’s banner before the walls of a + city was the signal for some sedition or some broil within. It may be that + he thus also promoted an ulterior, as well as his present, policy. + </p> + <p> + The divan were in full consultation when an officer entered, and whispered + a few words in Montreal’s ear. His eyes brightened. “Admit him,” he said + hastily. “Messires,” he added to his councillors, rubbing his hands, “I + think our net has caught our bird. Let us see.” + </p> + <p> + At this moment the drapery was lifted and the Knight admitted. + </p> + <p> + “How!” muttered Montreal, changing colour, and in evident disappointment. + “Am I to be ever thus balked?” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Walter de Montreal,” said the prisoner, “I am once more your guest. + In these altered features you perhaps scarcely recognise Adrian di + Castello.” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, noble Signor,” said Montreal, rising with great courtesy; “the + mistake of my varlets disturbed my recollection for a moment.—I + rejoice once more to press a hand that has won so many laurels since last + we parted. Your renown has been grateful to my ears. Ho!” continued the + chieftain, clapping his hands, “see to the refreshment and repose of this + noble Cavalier and his attendants. Lord Adrian, I will join you + presently.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian withdrew. Montreal, forgetful of his councillors, traversed his + tent with hasty strides; then summoning the officer who had admitted + Adrian, he said, “Count Landau still keeps the pass?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, General!” + </p> + <p> + “Hie thee fast back, then—the ambuscade must tarry till nightfall. + We have trapped the wrong fox.” + </p> + <p> + The officer departed, and shortly afterwards Montreal broke up the divan. + He sought Adrian, who was lodged in a tent beside his own. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord,” said Montreal, “it is true that my men had orders to stop every + one on the roads towards Florence. I am at war with that city. Yet I + expected a very different prisoner from you. Need I add, that you and your + men are free?” + </p> + <p> + “I accept the courtesy, noble Montreal, as frankly as it is rendered. May + I hope hereafter to repay it? Meanwhile permit me, without any disrespect, + to say that had I learned the Grand Company was in this direction, I + should have altered my course. I had heard that your arms were bent + (somewhat to my mind more nobly) against Malatesta, the tyrant of Rimini!” + </p> + <p> + “They were so. He was my foe; he is my tributary. We conquered him. He + paid us the price of his liberty. We marched by Asciano upon Sienna. For + sixteen thousand florins we spared that city; and we now hang like a + thunderbolt over Florence, which dared to send her puny aid to the defence + of Rimini. Our marches are forced and rapid and our camp in this plain but + just pitched.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear that the Grand Company is allied with Albornoz, and that its + General is secretly the soldier of the Church. Is it so?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay—Albornoz and I understand one another,” replied Montreal, + carelessly; “and not the less so that we have a mutual foe; whom both are + sworn to crush, in Visconti, the archbishop of Milan.” + </p> + <p> + “Visconti! the most potent of the Italian princes. That he has justly + incurred the wrath of the Church I know—and I can readily understand + that Innocent has revoked the pardon which the intrigues of the Archbishop + purchased from Clement VI. But I do not see clearly why Montreal should + willingly provoke so dark and terrible a foe.” + </p> + <p> + Montreal smiled sternly. “Know you not,” he said, “the vast ambition of + that Visconti? By the Holy Sepulchre, he is precisely the enemy my soul + leaps to meet! He has a genius worthy to cope with Montreal’s. I have made + myself master of his secret plans—they are gigantic! In a word, the + Archbishop designs the conquest of all Italy. His enormous wealth + purchases the corrupt—his dark sagacity ensnares the credulous—his + daring valour awes the weak. Every enemy he humbles—every ally he + enslaves. This is precisely the Prince whose progress Walter de Montreal + must arrest. For this (he said in a whisper as to himself) is precisely + the Prince who, if suffered to extend his power, will frustrate the plans + and break the force of Walter de Montreal.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian was silent, and for the first time a suspicion of the real nature + of the Provencal’s designs crossed his breast. + </p> + <p> + “But, noble Montreal,” resumed the Colonna, “give me, if your knowledge + serves, as no doubt it does,—give me the latest tidings of my native + city. I am Roman, and Rome is ever in my thoughts.” + </p> + <p> + “And well she may,” replied Montreal, quickly. “Thou knowest that + Albornoz, as Legate of the Pontiff, led the army of the Church into the + Papal Territories. He took with him Cola di Rienzi. Arrived at Monte + Fiascone, crowds of Romans of all ranks hastened thither to render homage + to the Tribune. The Legate was forgotten in the popularity of his + companion. Whether or not Albornoz grew jealous—for he is proud as + Lucifer—of the respect paid to the Tribune, or whether he feared the + restoration of his power, I cannot tell. But he detained him in his camp, + and refused to yield him to all the solicitations and all the deputations + of the Romans. Artfully, however, he fulfilled one of the real objects of + Rienzi’s release. Through his means he formally regained the allegiance of + Rome to the Church, and by the attraction of his presence swelled his camp + with Roman recruits. Marching to Viterbo, Rienzi distinguished himself + greatly in deeds of arms against the tyrant (“Vita di Cola di Rienzi”.) + John di Vico. Nay, he fought as one worthy of belonging to the Grand + Company. This increased the zeal of the Romans; and the city disgorged + half its inhabitants to attend the person of the bold Tribune. To the + entreaties of these worthy citizens (perhaps the very men who had before + shut up their darling in St. Angelo) the crafty Legate merely replied, + ‘Arm against John di Vico—conquer the tyrants of the Territory—re-establish + the patrimony of St. Peter, and Rienzi shall then be proclaimed Senator, + and return to Rome.’ + </p> + <p> + “These words inspired the Romans with so great a zeal, that they willingly + lent their aid to the Legate. Aquapendente, Bolzena yielded, John di Vico + was half reduced and half terrified into submission, and Gabrielli, the + tyrant of Agobbio, has since succumbed. The glory is to the Cardinal, but + the merit with Rienzi.” + </p> + <p> + “And now?” + </p> + <p> + “Albornoz continued to entertain the Senator-Tribune with great splendour + and fair words, but not a word about restoring him to Rome. Wearied with + this suspense, I have learned by secret intelligence that Rienzi has left + the camp, and betaken himself with few attendants to Florence, where he + has friends, who will provide him with arms and money to enter Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah then! now I guess,” said Adrian, with a half smile, “for whom I was + mistaken!” + </p> + <p> + Montreal blushed slightly. “Fairly conjectured!” said he. + </p> + <p> + “Meanwhile, at Rome,” continued the Provencal—“at Rome, your worthy + House, and that of the Orsini, being elected to the supreme power, + quarrelled among themselves, and could not keep the authority they had + won. Francesco Baroncelli, (This Baroncelli, who has been introduced to + the reader in a former portion of this work, is called by Matteo Villani + “a man of vile birth and little learning—he had been a Notary of the + Capitol.” In the midst of the armed dissensions between the Barons, which + followed the expulsion of Rienzi, Baroncelli contrived to make himself + Master of the Capitol, and of what was considered an auxiliary of no + common importance—viz. the Great Bell, by whose alarum Rienzi had so + often summoned to arms the Roman people. Baroncelli was crowned Tribune, + clothed in a robe of gold brocade, and invested with the crozier-sceptre + of Rienzi. At first, his cruelty against the great took the appearance of + protection to the humble; but the excesses of his sons (not exaggerated in + the text), and his own brutal but bold ferocity, soon made him execrated + by the people, to whom he owed his elevation. He had the folly to declare + against the Pope; and this it really was that mainly induced Innocent to + restore, and oppose to their New Demagogue, the former and more + illustrious Tribune. Baroncelli, like Rienzi, was excommunicated; and in + his instance, also, the curse of the Church was the immediate cause of his + downfall. In attempting flight he was massacred by the mob, December, + 1353. Some, however, have maintained that he was slain in combat with + Rienzi; and others, by a confusion of dates, have made him succeed to + Rienzi on the death of the latter.—Matteo Villani, lib. iii. cap. + 78. Osservaz. Stor. di Zefirino Re. MS. Vat. Rip. dal Bzovio, ann. 1353. + N. 2.) a new demagogue, a humble imitator of Rienzi, rose upon the ruins + of the peace broken by the nobles, obtained the title of Tribune, and + carried about the very insignia used by his predecessor. But less wise + than Rienzi, he took the antipapal party. And the Legate was thus enabled + to play the papal demagogue against the usurper. Baroncelli was a weak + man, his sons committed every excess in mimicry of the highborn tyrants of + Padua and Milan. Virgins violated and matrons dishonoured, somewhat + contrasted the solemn and majestic decorum of Rienzi’s rule;—in + fine, Baroncelli fell massacred by the people. And now, if you ask what + rules Rome, I answer, ‘It is the hope of Rienzi.’” + </p> + <p> + “A strange man, and various fortunes. What will be the end of both!” + </p> + <p> + “Swift murder to the first, and eternal fame to the last,” answered + Montreal, calmly. “Rienzi will be restored; that brave phoenix will wing + its way through storm and cloud to its own funereal pyre: I foresee, I + compassionate, I admire.—And then,” added Montreal, “I look beyond!” + </p> + <p> + “But wherefore feel you so certain that, if restored, Rienzi must fall?” + </p> + <p> + “Is it not clear to every eye, save his, whom ambition blinds? How can + mortal genius, however great, rule that most depraved people by popular + means? The Barons—(you know their indomitable ferocity)—wedded + to abuse, and loathing every semblance to law; the Barons, humbled for a + moment, will watch their occasion, and rise. The people will again desert. + Or else, grown wise in one respect by experience, the new Senator will see + that popular favour has a loud voice, but a recreant arm. He will, like + the Barons, surround himself by foreign swords. A detachment from the + Grand Company will be his courtiers; they will be his masters! To pay them + the people must be taxed. Then the idol is execrated. No Italian hand can + govern these hardy demons of the north; they will mutiny and fall away. A + new demagogue will lead on the people, and Rienzi will be the victim. Mark + my prophecy!” + </p> + <p> + “And then the ‘beyond’ to which you look?” + </p> + <p> + “Utter prostration of Rome, for new and long ages; God makes not two + Rienzis; or,” said Montreal, proudly, “the infusion of a new life into the + worn-out and diseased frame,—the foundation of a new dynasty. + Verily, when I look around me, I believe that the Ruler of nations designs + the restoration of the South by the irruptions of the North; and that out + of the old Franc and Germanic race will be built up the thrones of the + future world!” + </p> + <p> + As Montreal thus spoke, leaning on his great war-sword, with his fair and + heroic features—so different, in their frank, bold, fearless + expression, from the dark and wily intellect that characterises the + lineaments of the South—eloquent at once with enthusiasm and thought—he + might have seemed no unfitting representative of the genius of that + northern chivalry of which he spake. And Adrian half fancied that he saw + before him one of the old Gothic scourges of the Western World. + </p> + <p> + Their conversation was here interrupted by the sound of a trumpet, and + presently an officer entering, announced the arrival of ambassadors from + Florence. + </p> + <p> + “Again you must pardon me, noble Adrian,” said Montreal, “and let me claim + you as my guest at least for tonight. Here you may rest secure, and on + parting, my men shall attend you to the frontiers of whatsoever territory + you design to visit.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian, not sorry to see more of a man so celebrated, accepted the + invitation. + </p> + <p> + Left alone, he leaned his head upon his hand, and soon became lost in his + reflections. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0054" id="link2HCH0054"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 8.III. Faithful and Ill-fated Love.—The Aspirations Survive + the + </h2> + <p> + Affections. + </p> + <p> + Since that fearful hour in which Adrian Colonna had gazed upon the + lifeless form of his adored Irene, the young Roman had undergone the usual + vicissitudes of a wandering and adventurous life in those exciting times. + His country seemed no longer dear to him. His very rank precluded him from + the post he once aspired to take in restoring the liberties of Rome; and + he felt that if ever such a revolution could be consummated, it was + reserved for one in whose birth and habits the people could feel sympathy + and kindred, and who could lift his hand in their behalf without becoming + the apostate of his order and the judge of his own House. He had travelled + through various courts, and served with renown in various fields. Beloved + and honoured wheresoever he fixed a temporary home, no change of scene had + removed his melancholy—no new ties had chased away the memory of the + Lost. In that era of passionate and poetical romance, which Petrarch + represented rather than created, Love had already begun to assume a more + tender and sacred character than it had hitherto known, it had gradually + imbibed the divine spirit which it derives from Christianity, and which + associates its sorrows on earth with the visions and hopes of heaven. To + him who relies upon immortality, fidelity to the dead is easy; because + death cannot extinguish hope, and the soul of the mourner is already half + in the world to come. It is an age that desponds of a future life—representing + death as an eternal separation—in which, if men grieve awhile for + the dead, they hasten to reconcile themselves to the living. For true is + the old aphorism, that love exists not without hope. And all that romantic + worship which the Hermit of Vaucluse felt, or feigned, for Laura, found + its temple in the desolate heart of Adrian Colonna. He was emphatically + the Lover of his time! Often as, in his pilgrimage from land to land, he + passed the walls of some quiet and lonely convent, he seriously meditated + the solemn vows, and internally resolved that the cloister should receive + his maturer age. The absence of years had, however, in some degree + restored the dimmed and shattered affection for his fatherland, and he + desired once more to visit the city in which he had first beheld Irene. + “Perhaps,” he thought, “time may have wrought some unlooked-for change; + and I may yet assist to restore my country.” + </p> + <p> + But with this lingering patriotism no ambition was mingled. In that heated + stage of action, in which the desire of power seemed to stir through every + breast, and Italy had become the El Dorado of wealth, or the Utopia of + empire, to thousands of valiant arms and plotting minds, there was at + least one breast that felt the true philosophy of the Hermit. Adrian’s + nature, though gallant and masculine, was singularly imbued with that + elegance of temperament which recoils from rude contact, and to which a + lettered and cultivated indolence is the supremest luxury. His education, + his experience, and his intellect, had placed him far in advance of his + age, and he looked with a high contempt on the coarse villanies and base + tricks by which Italian ambition sought its road to power. The rise and + fall of Rienzi, who, whatever his failings, was at least the purest and + most honourable of the self-raised princes of the age, had conspired to + make him despond of the success of noble, as he recoiled from that of + selfish aspirations. And the dreamy melancholy which resulted from his + ill-starred love, yet more tended to wean him from the stale and hackneyed + pursuits of the world. His character was full of beauty and of poetry—not + the less so in that it found not a vent for its emotions in the actual + occupation of the poet! Pent within, those emotions diffused themselves + over all his thoughts and coloured his whole soul. Sometimes, in the + blessed abstraction of his visions, he pictured to himself the lot he + might have chosen had Irene lived, and fate united them—far from the + turbulent and vulgar roar of Rome—but amidst some yet unpolluted + solitude of the bright Italian soil. Before his eye there rose the lovely + landscape—the palace by the borders of the waveless lake—the + vineyards in the valley—the dark forests waving from the hill—and + that home, the resort and refuge of all the minstrelsy and love of Italy, + brightened by the “Lampeggiar dell’ angelico riso,” that makes a paradise + in the face we love. Often, seduced by such dreams to complete oblivion of + his loss, the young wanderer started from the ideal bliss, to behold + around him the solitary waste of way—or the moonlit tents of war—or, + worse than all, the crowds and revels of a foreign court. + </p> + <p> + Whether or not such fancies now, for a moment, allured his meditations, + conjured up, perhaps, by the name of Irene’s brother, which never sounded + in his ears but to awaken ten thousand associations, the Colonna remained + thoughtful and absorbed, until he was disturbed by his own squire, who, + accompanied by Montreal’s servitors, ushered in his solitary but ample + repast. Flasks of the richest Florentine wines—viands prepared with + all the art which, alas, Italy has now lost!—goblets and salvers of + gold and silver, prodigally wrought with barbaric gems—attested the + princely luxury which reigned in the camp of the Grand Company. But Adrian + saw in all only the spoliation of his degraded country, and felt the + splendour almost as an insult. His lonely meal soon concluded, he became + impatient of the monotony of his tent; and, tempted by the cool air of the + descending eve, sauntered carelessly forth. He bent his steps by the side + of the brooklet that curved, snakelike and sparkling, by Montreal’s tent; + and finding a spot somewhat solitary and apart from the warlike tenements + around, flung himself by the margin of the stream. + </p> + <p> + The last rays of the sun quivered on the wave that danced musically over + its stony bed; and amidst a little copse on the opposite bank broke the + brief and momentary song of such of the bolder habitants of that purple + air as the din of the camp had not scared from their green retreat. The + clouds lay motionless to the west, in that sky so darkly and intensely + blue, never seen but over the landscapes that a Claude or a Rosa loved to + paint; and dim and delicious rose-hues gathered over the grey peaks of the + distant Apennines. From afar floated the hum of the camp, broken by the + neigh of returning steeds; the blast of an occasional bugle; and, at + regular intervals, by the armed tramp of the neighbouring sentry. And + opposite to the left of the copse—upon a rising ground, matted with + reeds, moss, and waving shrubs—were the ruins of some old Etruscan + building, whose name had perished, whose very uses were unknown. + </p> + <p> + The scene was so calm and lovely, as Adrian gazed upon it, that it was + scarcely possible to imagine it at that very hour the haunt of fierce and + banded robbers, among most of whom the very soul of man was embruted, and + to all of whom murder or rapine made the habitual occupation of life. + </p> + <p> + Still buried in his reveries, and carelessly dropping stones into the + noisy rivulet, Adrian was aroused by the sound of steps. + </p> + <p> + “A fair spot to listen to the lute and the ballads of Provence,” said the + voice of Montreal, as the Knight of St. John threw himself on the turf + beside the young Colonna. + </p> + <p> + “You retain, then, your ancient love of your national melodies,” said + Adrian. + </p> + <p> + “Ay, I have not yet survived all my youth,” answered Montreal, with a + slight sigh. “But somehow or other, the strains that once pleased my fancy + now go too directly to my heart. So, though I still welcome jongleur and + minstrel, I bid them sing their newest conceits. I cannot wish ever again + to hear the poetry I heard when I was young!” + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me,” said Adrian, with great interest, “but fain would I have + dared, though a secret apprehension prevented me hitherto,—fain + would I have dared to question you of that lovely lady, with whom, seven + years ago, we gazed at moonlight upon the odorous orange-groves and rosy + waters of Terracina.” + </p> + <p> + Montreal turned away his face; he laid his hand on Adrian’s arm, and + murmured, in a deep and hoarse tone, “I am alone now!” + </p> + <p> + Adrian pressed his hand in silence. He felt no light shock at thus + learning the death of one so gentle, so lovely, and so ill-fated. + </p> + <p> + “The vows of my knighthood,” continued Montreal, “which precluded Adeline + the rights of wedlock—the shame of her house—the angry grief + of her mother—the wild vicissitudes of my life, so exposed to peril—the + loss of her son—all preyed silently on her frame. She did not die + (die is too harsh a word!), but she drooped away, and glided into heaven. + Even as on a summer’s morn some soft dream fleets across us, growing less + and less distinct, until it fades, as it were, into light, and we awaken—so + faded Adeline’s parting spirit, till the daylight of God broke upon it.” + </p> + <p> + Montreal paused a moment, and then resumed: “These thoughts make the + boldest of us weak sometimes, and we Provencals are foolish in these + matters!—God wot, she was very dear to me!” + </p> + <p> + The Knight bent down and crossed himself devoutly, his lips muttered a + prayer. Strange as it may seem to our more enlightened age, so martial a + garb did morality then wear, that this man, at whose word towns had blazed + and torrents of blood had flowed, neither adjudged himself, nor was + adjudged by the majority of his contemporaries, a criminal. His order, + half monastic, half warlike, was emblematic of himself. He trampled upon + man, yet humbled himself to God; nor had all his acquaintance with the + refining scepticism of Italy shaken the sturdy and simple faith of the + bold Provencal. So far from recognising any want of harmony between his + calling and his creed, he held that man no true chevalier who was not as + devout to the Cross as relentless with the sword. + </p> + <p> + “And you have no child save the one you lost?” asked Adrian, when he + observed the wonted composure of Montreal once more returning. + </p> + <p> + “None!” said Montreal, as his brow again darkened. “No love-begotten heir + of mine will succeed to the fortunes I trust yet to build. Never on earth + shall I see upon the face of her child the likeness of Adeline! Yet, at + Avignon, I saw a boy I would have claimed; for methought she must have + looked her soul into his eyes, they were so like hers! Well, well! The + Provence tree hath other branches; and some unborn nephew must be—what? + The stars have not yet decided! But ambition is now the only thing in the + world left me to love.” + </p> + <p> + “So differently operates the same misfortune upon different characters,” + thought the Colonna. “To me, crowns became valueless when I could no + longer dream of placing them on Irene’s brow!” + </p> + <p> + The similarity of their fates, however, attracted Adrian strongly towards + his host; and the two Knights conversed together with more friendship and + unreserve than they had hitherto done. At length Montreal said, “By the + way, I have not inquired your destination.” + </p> + <p> + “I am bound to Rome,” said Adrian; “and the intelligence I have learned + from you incites me thitherward yet more eagerly. If Rienzi return, I may + mediate successfully, perchance, between the Tribune-Senator and the + nobles; and if I find my cousin, young Stefanello, now the head of our + house, more tractable than his sires, I shall not despair of conciliating + the less powerful Barons. Rome wants repose; and whoever governs, if he + govern but with justice, ought to be supported both by prince and + plebeian!” + </p> + <p> + Montreal listened with great attention, and then muttered to himself, “No, + it cannot be!” He mused a little while, shading his brow with his hand, + before he said aloud, “To Rome you are bound. Well, we shall meet soon + amidst its ruins. Know, by the way, that my object here is already won: + these Florentine merchants have acceded to my terms; they have purchased a + two years’ peace; tomorrow the camp breaks up, and the Grand Company march + to Lombardy. There, if my schemes prosper, and the Venetians pay my price, + I league the rascals (under Landau, my Lieutenant) with the Sea-City, in + defiance of the Visconti, and shall pass my autumn in peace amidst the + pomps of Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Walter de Montreal,” said Adrian, “your frankness perhaps makes me + presumptuous; but when I hear you talk, like a huxtering trader, of + selling alike your friendship and your forbearance, I ask myself, ‘Is this + the great Knight of St. John; and have men spoken of him fairly, when they + assert the sole stain on his laurels to be his avarice?” + </p> + <p> + Montreal bit his lip; nevertheless, he answered calmly, “My frankness has + brought its own penance, Lord Adrian. However, I cannot wholly leave so + honoured a guest under an impression which I feel to be plausible, but not + just. No, brave Colonna; report wrongs me. I value Gold, for Gold is the + Architect of Power! It fills the camp—it storms the city—it + buys the marketplace—it raises the palace—it founds the + throne. I value Gold,—it is the means necessary to my end!” + </p> + <p> + “And that end—” + </p> + <p> + “Is—no matter what,” said the Knight coldly. “Let us to our tents, + the dews fall heavily, and the malaria floats over these houseless + wastes.” + </p> + <p> + The pair rose;—yet, fascinated by the beauty of the hour, they + lingered for a moment by the brook. The earliest stars shone over its + crisping wavelets, and a delicious breeze murmured gently amidst the + glossy herbage. + </p> + <p> + “Thus gazing,” said Montreal, softly, “we reverse the old Medusan fable + the poets tell us of, and look and muse ourselves out of stone. A little + while, and it was the sunlight that gilded the wave—it now shines as + brightly and glides as gaily beneath the stars; even so rolls the stream + of time: one luminary succeeds the other equally welcomed—equally + illumining—equally evanescent!—You see, the poetry of Provence + still lives beneath my mail!” + </p> + <p> + Adrian early sought his couch; but his own thoughts and the sounds of loud + mirth that broke from Montreal’s tent, where the chief feasted the + captains of his band, a revel from which he had the delicacy to excuse the + Roman noble, kept the Colonna long awake; and he had scarcely fallen into + an unquiet slumber, when yet more discordant sounds again invaded his + repose. At the earliest dawn the wide armament was astir—the + creaking of cordage—the tramp of men—loud orders and louder + oaths—the slow rolling of baggage-wains—and the clank of the + armourers, announced the removal of the camp, and the approaching + departure of the Grand Company. + </p> + <p> + Ere Adrian was yet attired, Montreal entered his tent. + </p> + <p> + “I have appointed,” he said, “five score lances under a trusty leader, to + accompany you, noble Adrian, to the borders of Romagna; they wait your + leisure. In another hour I depart; the on-guard are already in motion.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian would fain have declined the proffered escort; but he saw that it + would only offend the pride of the chief, who soon retired. Hastily Adrian + endued his arms—the air of the fresh morning, and the glad sun + rising gorgeously from the hills, revived his wearied spirit. He repaired + to Montreal’s tent, and found him alone, with the implements of writing + before him, and a triumphant smile upon his countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Fortune showers new favours on me!” he said, gaily. “Yesterday the + Florentines spared me the trouble of a siege: and today (even since I last + saw you—a few minutes since) puts your new Senator of Rome into my + power.” + </p> + <p> + “How! Have your bands then arrested Rienzi?” + </p> + <p> + “Not so—better still! The Tribune changed his plan, and repaired to + Perugia, where my brothers now abide—sought them—they have + supplied him with money and soldiers enough to brave the perils of the + way, and to defy the swords of the Barons. So writes my good brother + Arimbaldo, a man of letters, whom the Tribune thinks rightly he has + decoyed with old tales of Roman greatness, and mighty promises of grateful + advancement. You find me hastily expressing my content at the arrangement. + My brothers themselves will accompany the Senator-Tribune to the walls of + the Capitol.” + </p> + <p> + “Still, I see not how this places Rienzi in your power.” + </p> + <p> + “No! His soldiers are my creatures—his comrades my brothers—his + creditor myself! Let him rule Rome then—the time soon comes when the + Vice-Regent must yield to—” + </p> + <p> + “The Chief of the Grand Company,” interrupted Adrian, with a shudder, + which the bold Montreal was too engrossed with the unconcealed excitement + of his own thoughts to notice. “No, Knight of Provence, basely have we + succumbed to domestic tyrants: but never, I trust, will Romans be so vile + as to wear the yoke of a foreign usurper.” + </p> + <p> + Montreal looked hard at Adrian, and smiled sternly. + </p> + <p> + “You mistake me,” said he; “and it will be time enough for you to play the + Brutus when I assume the Caesar. Meanwhile we are but host and guest. Let + us change the theme.” + </p> + <p> + Nevertheless this, their latter conference, threw a chill over both during + the short time the Knights remained together, and they parted with a + formality which was ill-suited to their friendly intercourse of the night + before. Montreal felt he had in cautiously revealed himself, but caution + was no part of his character, whenever he found himself at the head of an + army, and at the full tide of fortune; and at that moment, so confident + was he of the success of his wildest schemes, that he recked little whom + he offended, or whom alarmed. + </p> + <p> + Slowly, with his strange and ferocious escort, Adrian renewed his way. + Winding up a steep ascent that led from the plain,—when he reached + the summit, the curve in the road shewed him the whole army on its march;—the + gonfalons waving—the armour flashing in the sun, line after line, + like a river of steel, and the whole plain bristling with the array of + that moving war;—while the solemn tread of the armed thousands fell + subdued and stifled at times by martial and exulting music. As they swept + on, Adrian descried at length the stately and towering form of Montreal + upon a black charger, distinguished even at that distance from the rest, + not more by his gorgeous armour than his lofty stature. So swept he on in + the pride of his array—in the flush of his hopes—the head of a + mighty armament—the terror of Italy—the hero that was—the + monarch that might be! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0066" id="link2H_4_0066"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK IX. THE RETURN. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Allora la sua venuta fu a Roma sentita; Romani si + apparecchiavano a riceverlo con letizia...furo fatti archi + trionfali,” &c. &c.—“Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. ii. c. + 17. + + “Then the fame of his coming was felt at Rome; the Romans + made ready to receive him with gladness...triumphal arches + were erected,” &c., &c.—“Life of Cola di Rienzi”. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0055" id="link2HCH0055"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 9.I. The Triumphal Entrance. + </h2> + <p> + All Rome was astir!—from St. Angelo to the Capitol, windows, + balconies, roofs, were crowded with animated thousands. Only here and + there, in the sullen quarters of the Colonna, the Orsini, and the Savelli, + reigned a death-like solitude and a dreary gloom. In those fortifications, + rather than streets, not even the accustomed tread of the barbarian + sentinel was heard. The gates closed—the casements barred—the + grim silence around—attested the absence of the Barons. They had + left the city so soon as they had learned the certain approach of Rienzi. + In the villages and castles of the Campagna, surrounded by their + mercenaries, they awaited the hour when the people, weary of their idol, + should welcome back even those ferocious Iconoclasts. + </p> + <p> + With these exceptions, all Rome was astir! Triumphal arches of drapery, + wrought with gold and silver, raised at every principal vista, were + inscribed with mottoes of welcome and rejoicing. At frequent intervals + stood youths and maidens, with baskets of flowers and laurels. High above + the assembled multitudes—from the proud tower of Hadrian—from + the turrets of the Capitol—from the spires of the sacred buildings + dedicated to Apostle and to Saint—floated banners as for a victory. + Rome once more opened her arms to receive her Tribune! + </p> + <p> + Mingled with the crowd—disguised by his large mantle—hidden by + the pressure of the throng—his person, indeed, forgotten by most—and, + in the confusion of the moment, heeded by none—stood Adrian Colonna! + He had not been able to conquer his interest for the brother of Irene. + Solitary amidst his fellow-citizens, he stood—the only one of the + proud race of Colonna who witnessed the triumph of the darling of the + people. + </p> + <p> + “They say he has grown large in his prison,” said one of the bystanders; + “he was lean enough when he came by daybreak out of the Church of St. + Angelo!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said another, a little man with a shrewd, restless eye, “they say + truly; I saw him take leave of the Legate.” + </p> + <p> + Every eye was turned to the last speaker; he became at once a personage of + importance. “Yes,” continued the little man with an elated and pompous + air, “as soon, d’ye see, as he had prevailed on Messere Brettone, and + Messere Arimbaldo, the brothers of Fra Moreale, to accompany him from + Perugia to Monte Fiascone, he went at once to the Legate d’Albornoz, who + was standing in the open air conversing with his captains. A crowd + followed. I was one of them; and the Tribune nodded at me—ay, that + did he!—and so, with his scarlet cloak, and his scarlet cap, he + faced the proud Cardinal with a pride greater than his own. ‘Monsignore,’ + said he, ‘though you accord me neither money nor arms, to meet the dangers + of the road and brave the ambush of the Barons, I am prepared to depart. + Senator of Rome, his Holiness hath made me: according to custom, I pray + you, Monsignore, forthwith to confirm the rank.’ I would you could have + seen how the proud Spaniard stared, and blushed, and frowned; but he bit + his lip, and said little.” + </p> + <p> + “And confirmed Rienzi Senator?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes; and blessed him, and bade him depart.” + </p> + <p> + “Senator!” said a stalwart but grey-haired giant with folded arms; “I like + not a title that has been borne by a patrician. I fear me, in the new + title he will forget the old.” + </p> + <p> + “Fie, Cecco del Vecchio, you were always a grumbler!” said a merchant of + cloth, whose commodity the ceremonial had put in great request. “Fie!—for + my part, I think Senator a less new-fangled title than Tribune. I hope + there will be feasting enow, at last. Rome has been long dull. A bad time + for trade, I warrant me!” + </p> + <p> + The artisan grinned scornfully. He was one of those who distinguished + between the middle class and the working, and he loathed a merchant as + much as he did a noble. “The day wears,” said the little man; “he must be + here anon. The Senator’s lady, and all his train, have gone forth to meet + him these two hours.” + </p> + <p> + Scarce were these words uttered, when the crowd to the right swayed + restlessly; and presently a horseman rode rapidly through the street. “Way + there! Keep back! Way—make way for the Most Illustrious the Senator + of Rome!” + </p> + <p> + The crowd became hushed—then murmuring—then hushed again. From + balcony and casement stretched the neck of every gazer. The tramp of + steeds was heard at a distance—the sound of clarion and trumpet;—then, + gleaming through the distant curve of the streets, was seen the wave of + the gonfalons—then, the glitter of spears—and then from the + whole multitude, as from one voice, arose the shout,—“He comes! he + comes!” + </p> + <p> + Adrian shrunk yet more backward amongst the throng; and, leaning against + the wall of one of the houses, contemplated the approaching pageant. + </p> + <p> + First came, six abreast, the procession of Roman horsemen who had gone + forth to meet the Senator, bearing boughs of olive in their hands; each + hundred preceded by banners, inscribed with the words, “Liberty and Peace + restored.” As these passed the group by Adrian, each more popular citizen + of the cavalcade was recognised, and received with loud shouts. By the + garb and equipment of the horsemen, Adrian saw that they belonged chiefly + to the traders of Rome; a race who, he well knew, unless strangely + altered, valued liberty only as a commercial speculation. “A vain support + these,” thought the Colonna;—“what next?” on, then, came in + glittering armour the German mercenaries, hired by the gold of the + Brothers of Provence, in number two hundred and fifty, and previously in + the pay of Malatesta of Rimini;—tall, stern, sedate, disciplined,—eyeing + the crowd with a look, half of barbarian wonder, half of insolent disdain. + No shout of gratulation welcomed these sturdy strangers; it was evident + that their aspect cast a chill over the assembly. + </p> + <p> + “Shame!” growled Cecco del Vecchio, audibly. “Has the people’s friend need + of the swords which guard an Orsini or a Malatesta?—shame!” + </p> + <p> + No voice this time silenced the huge malcontent. + </p> + <p> + “His only real defence against the Barons,” thought Adrian, “if he pay + them well! But their number is not sufficient!” + </p> + <p> + Next came two hundred fantassins, or foot-soldiers, of Tuscany, with the + corselets and arms of the heavy-armed soldiery—a gallant company, + and whose cheerful looks and familiar bearing appeared to sympathise with + the crowd. And in truth they did so,—for they were Tuscans, and + therefore lovers of freedom. In them, too, the Romans seemed to recognise + natural and legitimate allies,—and there was a general cry of + “Vivano i bravi Toscani!” + </p> + <p> + “Poor defence!” thought the more sagacious Colonna; “the Barons can awe, + and the mob corrupt them.” + </p> + <p> + Next came a file of trumpeters and standard-bearers;—and now the + sound of the music was drowned by shouts, which seemed to rise + simultaneously as from every quarter of the city;—“Rienzi! Rienzi!—Welcome, + welcome!—Liberty and Rienzi! Rienzi and the Good Estate!” Flowers + dropped on his path, kerchiefs and banners waved from every house;—tears + might be seen coursing, unheeded, down bearded cheeks;—youth and age + were kneeling together, with uplifted hands, invoking blessings on the + head of the Restored. On he came the Senator-Tribune—“the Phoenix to + his pyre!” + </p> + <p> + Robed in scarlet, that literally blazed with gold, his proud head bared in + the sun, and bending to the saddle bow, Rienzi passed slowly through the + throng. Not in the flush of that hour were visible, on his glorious + countenance, the signs of disease and care: the very enlargement of his + proportions gave a greater majesty to his mien. Hope sparkled in his eye—triumph + and empire sat upon his brow. The crowd could not contain themselves; they + pressed forward, each upon each, anxious to catch the glance of his eye, + to touch the hem of his robe. He himself was deeply affected by their joy. + He halted; with faltering and broken words, he attempted to address them. + “I am repaid,” he said,—“repaid for all;—may I live to make + you happy!” + </p> + <p> + The crowd parted again—the Senator moved on—again the crowd + closed in. Behind the Tribune, to their excited imagination, seemed to + move the very goddess of ancient Rome. + </p> + <p> + Upon a steed, caparisoned with cloth of gold;—in snow-white robes, + studded with gems that flashed back the day,—came the beautiful and + regal Nina. The memory of her pride, her ostentation, all forgotten in + that moment, she was scarce less welcome, scarce less idolized, than her + lord. And her smile all radiant with joy—her lip quivering with + proud and elate emotion,—never had she seemed at once so born alike + for love and for command;—a Zenobia passing through the pomp of + Rome,—not a captive, but a queen. + </p> + <p> + But not upon that stately form riveted the gaze of Adrian—pale, + breathless, trembling, he clung to the walls against which he leaned. Was + it a dream? Had the dead revived? Or was it his own—his living Irene—whose + soft and melancholy loveliness shone sadly by the side of Nina—a + star beside the moon? The pageant faded from his eyes—all grew dim + and dark. For a moment he was insensible. When he recovered, the crowd was + hurrying along, confused and blent with the mighty stream that followed + the procession. Through the moving multitude he caught the graceful form + of Irene, again snatched by the closing standards of the procession from + his view. His blood rushed back from his heart through every vein. He was + as a man who for years had been in a fearful trance, and who is suddenly + awakened to the light of heaven. + </p> + <p> + One of that mighty throng remained motionless with Adrian. It was Cecco + del Vecchio. + </p> + <p> + “He did not see me,” muttered the smith to himself; “old friends are + forgotten now! Well, well, Cecco del Vecchio hates tyrants still—no + matter what their name, nor how smoothly they are disguised. He did not + see ME! Umph!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0056" id="link2HCH0056"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 9.II. The Masquerade. + </h2> + <p> + The acuter reader has already learned, without the absolute intervention + of the author as narrator, the incidents occurring to Rienzi in the + interval between his acquittal at Avignon and his return to Rome. As the + impression made by Nina upon the softer and better nature of Albornoz died + away, he naturally began to consider his guest—as the profound + politicians of that day ever considered men—a piece upon the great + Chess-Board, to be moved, advanced, or sacrificed, as best suited the + scheme in view. His purpose accomplished, in the recovery of the + patrimonial territory, the submission of John di Vico, and the fall and + death of the Demagogue Baroncelli, the Cardinal deemed it far from + advisable to restore to Rome, and with so high a dignity, the able and + ambitious Rienzi. Before the daring Roman, even his own great spirit + quailed; and he was wholly unable to conceive or to calculate the policy + that might be adopted by the new Senator, when once more Lord of Rome. + Without affecting to detain, he therefore declined to assist in restoring + him. And Rienzi thus saw himself within an easy march of Rome, without one + soldier to protect him against the Barons by the way. But Heaven had + decreed that no single man, however gifted, or however powerful, should + long counteract or master the destinies of Rienzi: and perhaps in no more + glittering scene of his life did he ever evince so dexterous and subtle an + intellect as he now did in extricating himself from the wiles of the + Cardinal. Repairing to Perugia, he had, as we have seen, procured, through + the brothers of Montreal, men and money for his return. But the Knight of + St. John was greatly mistaken, if he imagined that Rienzi was not + thoroughly aware of the perilous and treacherous tenure of the support he + had received. His keen eye read at a glance the aims and the characters of + the brothers of Montreal—he knew that while affecting to serve him, + they designed to control—that, made the debtor of the grasping and + aspiring Montreal, and surrounded by the troops conducted by Montreal’s + brethren, he was in the midst of a net which, if not broken, would soon + involve fortune and life itself in its fatal and deadly meshes. But, + confident in the resources and promptitude of his own genius, he yet + sanguinely trusted to make those his puppets, who dreamed that he was + their own; and, with empire for the stake, he cared not how crafty the + antagonists he was compelled to engage. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, uniting to all his rasher and all his nobler qualities, a + profound dissimulation, he appeared to trust implicitly to his Provencal + companions; and his first act on entering the Capitol, after the triumphal + procession, was to reward with the highest dignities in his gift, Messere + Arimbaldo and Messere Brettone de Montreal! + </p> + <p> + High feasting was there that night in the halls of the Capitol; but dearer + to Rienzi than all the pomp of the day, were the smiles of Nina. Her proud + and admiring eyes, swimming with delicious tears, fixed upon his + countenance, she but felt that they were re-united, and that the hours, + however brilliantly illumined, were hastening to that moment, when, after + so desolate and dark an absence, they might once more be alone. + </p> + <p> + Far other the thoughts of Adrian Colonna, as he sate alone in the dreary + palace in the yet more dreary quarter of his haughty race. Irene then was + alive,—he had been deceived by some strange error,—she had + escaped the devouring pestilence; and something in the pale sadness of her + gentle features, even in that day of triumph, told him he was still + remembered. But as his mind by degrees calmed itself from its first wild + and tumultuous rapture, he could not help asking himself the question + whether they were not still to be divided! Stefanello Colonna, the + grandson of the old Stephen, and (by the death of his sire and brother) + the youthful head of that powerful House, had already raised his standard + against the Senator. Fortifying himself in the almost impregnable fastness + of Palestrina, he had assembled around him all the retainers of his + family, and his lawless soldiery now ravaged the neighbouring plains far + and wide. + </p> + <p> + Adrian foresaw that the lapse of a few days would suffice to bring the + Colonna and the Senator to open war. Could he take part against those of + his own blood? The very circumstance of his love for Irene would yet more + rob such a proceeding of all appearance of disinterested patriotism, and + yet more deeply and irremediably stain his knightly fame, wherever the + sympathy of his equals was enlisted with the cause of the Colonna. On the + other hand, not only his love for the Senator’s sister, but his own secret + inclinations and honest convictions, were on the side of one who alone + seemed to him possessed of the desire and the genius to repress the + disorders of his fallen city. Long meditating, he feared no alternative + was left him but in the same cruel neutrality to which he had been before + condemned; but he resolved at least to make the attempt—rendered + favourable and dignified by his birth and reputation—to reconcile + the contending parties. To effect this, he saw that he must begin with his + haughty cousin. He was well aware that were it known that he had first + obtained an interview with Rienzi—did it appear as if he were + charged with overtures from the Senator—although Stefanello himself + might be inclined to yield to his representations, the insolent and + ferocious Barons who surrounded him would not deign to listen to the envoy + of the People’s chosen one; and instead of being honoured as an + intercessor, he should be suspected as a traitor. He determined, then, to + depart for Palestrina; but (and his heart beat audibly) would it not be + possible first to obtain an interview with Irene? It was no easy + enterprise, surrounded as she was, but he resolved to adventure it. He + summoned Giulio. + </p> + <p> + “The Senator holds a festival this evening—think you that the + assemblage will be numerous?” + </p> + <p> + “I hear,” answered Giulio, “that the banquet given to the Ambassadors and + Signors today is to be followed tomorrow by a mask, to which all ranks are + admitted. By Bacchus, (Still a common Roman expletive.) if the Tribune + only invited nobles, the smallest closet in the Capitol would suffice to + receive his maskers. I suppose a mask has been resolved on in order to + disguise the quality of the visitors.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian mused a moment; and the result of his revery was a determination to + delay for another sun his departure to Palestrina—to take advantage + of the nature of the revel, and to join the masquerade. + </p> + <p> + That species of entertainment, though unusual at that season of the year, + had been preferred by Rienzi, partly and ostensibly because it was one in + which all his numerous and motley supporters could be best received; but + chiefly and secretly because it afforded himself and his confidential + friends the occasion to mix unsuspected amongst the throng, and learn more + of the real anticipations of the Romans with respect to his policy and his + strength, than could well be gathered from the enthusiasm of a public + spectacle. + </p> + <p> + The following night was beautifully serene and clear. The better to + accommodate the numerous guests, and to take advantage of the warm and + moonlit freshness of the air, the open court of the Capitol, with the + Place of the Lion, (as well as the state apartments within,) was devoted + to the festival. + </p> + <p> + As Adrian entered the festive court with the rush of the throng, it + chanced that in the eager impatience of some maskers, more vehement than + the rest, his vizard was deranged. He hastily replaced it; but not before + one of the guests had recognised his countenance. + </p> + <p> + From courtesy, Rienzi and his family remained at first unmasked. They + stood at the head of the stairs to which the old Egyptian Lion gave the + name. The lights shone over that Colossal Monument—which, torn from + its antique home, had witnessed, in its grim repose, the rise and lapse of + countless generations, and the dark and stormy revolutions of avenging + fate. It was an ill omen, often afterwards remarked, that the place of + that state festival was the place also of the state executions. But at + that moment, as group after group pressed forward to win smile and word + from the celebrated man, whose fortunes had been the theme of Europe, or + to bend in homage to the lustrous loveliness of Nina, no omen and no + warning clouded the universal gladness. + </p> + <p> + Behind Nina, well contented to shrink from the gaze of the throng, and to + feel her softer beauty eclipsed by the dazzling and gorgeous charms of her + brother’s wife, stood Irene. Amidst the crowd on her alone Adrian fixed + his eyes. The years which had flown over the fair brow of the girl of + sixteen—then animated by, yet trembling beneath, the first wild + breath of Love;—youth in every vein—passion and childish + tenderness in every thought, had not marred, but they had changed, the + character of Irene’s beauty. Her cheek, no longer varying with every + instant, was settled into a delicate and thoughtful paleness—her + form, more rounded to the proportions of Roman beauty, had assumed an air + of dignified and calm repose. No longer did the restless eye wander in + search of some imagined object; no longer did the lip quiver into smiles + at some untold hope or half-unconscious recollection. A grave and mournful + expression gave to her face (still how sweet!) a gravity beyond her years. + The bloom, the flush, the April of the heart, was gone; but yet neither + time, nor sorrow, nor blighted love, had stolen from her countenance its + rare and angelic softness—nor that inexpressible and virgin modesty + of form and aspect, which, contrasting the bolder beauties of Italy, had + more than aught else distinguished to Adrian, from all other women, the + idol of his heart. And feeding his gaze upon those dark deep eyes, which + spoke of thought far away and busy with the past, Adrian felt again and + again that he was not forgotten! Hovering near her, but suffering the + crowd to press one after another before him, he did not perceive that he + had attracted the eagle eye of the Senator. + </p> + <p> + In fact, as one of the maskers passed Rienzi, he whispered, “Beware, a + Colonna is among the masks! beneath the reveller’s domino has often lurked + the assassin’s dagger. Yonder stands your foe—mark him!” + </p> + <p> + These words were the first sharp and thrilling intimation of the perils + into which he had rushed, that the Tribune-Senator had received since his + return. He changed colour slightly; and for some minutes the courtly smile + and ready greeting with which he had hitherto delighted every guest, gave + way to a moody abstraction. + </p> + <p> + “Why stands yon strange man so mute and motionless?” whispered he to Nina. + “He speaks to none—he approaches us not—a churl, a churl!—he + must be seen to.” + </p> + <p> + “Doubtless, some German or English barbarian,” answered Nina. “Let not, my + Lord, so slight a cloud dim your merriment.” + </p> + <p> + “You are right, dearest; we have friends here; we are well girt. And, by + my father’s ashes, I feel that I must accustom myself to danger. Nina, let + us move on; methinks we might now mix among the maskers—masked + ourselves.” + </p> + <p> + The music played loud and cheerily as the Senator and his party mingled + with the throng. But still his eye turned ever towards the grey domino of + Adrian, and he perceived that it followed his steps. Approaching the + private entrance of the Capitol, he for a few moments lost sight of his + unwelcome pursuer: but just as he entered, turning abruptly, Rienzi + perceived him close at his side—the next moment the stranger had + vanished amidst the throng. But that moment had sufficed to Adrian—he + had reached Irene. “Adrian Colonna (he whispered) waits thee beside the + Lion.” + </p> + <p> + In the absorption of his own reflections, Rienzi fortunately did not + notice the sudden paleness and agitation of his sister. Entered within his + palace, he called for wine—the draught revived his spirits—he + listened smilingly to the sparkling remarks of Nina; and enduing his mask + and disguise, said, with his wonted cheerfulness, “Now for Truth—strange + that in festivals it should only speak behind a vizard! My sweet sister, + thou hast lost thine old smile, and I would rather see that than—Ha! + has Irene vanished?” + </p> + <p> + “Only, I suppose, to change her dress, my Cola, and mingle with the + revellers,” answered Nina. “Let my smile atone for hers.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi kissed the bright brow of his wife as she clung fondly to his + bosom. “Thy smile is the sunlight,” said he; “but this girl disturbs me. + Methinks now, at least, she might wear a gladder aspect.” + </p> + <p> + “Is there nothing of love beneath my fair sister’s gloom?” answered Nina. + “Do you not call to mind how she loved Adrian Colonna?” + </p> + <p> + “Does that fantasy hold still?” returned Rienzi, musingly. “Well, and she + is fit bride for a monarch.” + </p> + <p> + “Yet it were an alliance that would, better than one with monarchs, + strengthen thy power at Rome!” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, were it possible; but that haughty race!—Perchance this very + masker that so haunted our steps was but her lover. I will look to this. + Let us forth, my Nina. Am I well cloaked?” + </p> + <p> + “Excellently well—and I?” + </p> + <p> + “The sun behind a cloud.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, let us not tarry long; what hour of revel like that when thy hand in + mine, this head upon thy bosom, we forget the sorrows we have known, and + even the triumphs we have shared?” + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Irene, confused and lost amidst a transport of emotion, already + disguised and masked, was threading her way through the crowd back to the + staircase of the Lion. With the absence of the Senator that spot had + comparatively been deserted. Music and the dance attracted the maskers to + another quarter of the wide space. And Irene now approaching, beheld the + moonlight fall over the statue, and a solitary figure leaning against the + pedestal. She paused, the figure approached, and again she heard the voice + of her early love. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Irene! recognised even in this disguise,” said Adrian, seizing her + trembling hand; “have I lived to gaze again upon that form—to touch + this hand? Did not these eyes behold thee lifeless in that fearful vault, + which I shudder to recall? By what miracle wert thou raised again? By what + means did Heaven spare to this earth one that it seemed already to have + placed amongst its angels?” + </p> + <p> + “Was this, indeed, thy belief?” said Irene, falteringly, but with an + accent eloquent of joy. “Thou didst not then willingly desert me? Unjust + that I was, I wronged thy noble nature, and deemed that my brother’s fall, + my humble lineage, thy brilliant fate, had made thee renounce Irene.” + </p> + <p> + “Unjust indeed!” answered the lover. “But surely I saw thee amongst the + dead!—thy cloak, with the silver stars—who else wore the arms + of the Roman Tribune?” + </p> + <p> + “Was it but the cloak then, which, dropped in the streets, was probably + assumed by some more ill-fated victim; was it that sight alone, that made + thee so soon despair? Ah! Adrian,” continued Irene, tenderly, but with + reproach; “not even when I saw thee seemingly lifeless on the couch by + which I had watched three days and nights, not even then did I despair!” + </p> + <p> + “What, then, my vision did not deceive me! It was you who watched by my + bed in that grim hour, whose love guarded, whose care preserved me! And I, + wretch that I was!—” + </p> + <p> + “Nay,” answered Irene, “your thought was natural. Heaven seemed to endow + me with superhuman strength, whilst I was necessary to thee. But judge of + my dismay. I left thee to seek the good friar who attended thee as thy + leech; I returned, and found thee not. Heart-sick and terrified, I + searched the desolate city in vain. Strong as I was while hope supported + me, I sunk beneath fear.—And my brother found me senseless, and + stretched on the ground, by the church of St. Mark.” + </p> + <p> + “The church of St. Mark!—so foretold his dream!” + </p> + <p> + “He had told me he had met thee; we searched for thee in vain; at length + we heard that thou hadst left the city, and—and—I rejoiced, + Adrian, but I repined!” + </p> + <p> + For some minutes the young lovers surrendered themselves to the delight of + reunion, while new explanations called forth new transports. + </p> + <p> + “And now,” murmured Irene, “now that we have met—” she paused, and + her mask concealed her blushes. + </p> + <p> + “Now that we have met,” said Adrian, filling up the silence, “wouldst thou + say further, ‘that we should not part?’ Trust me, dearest, that is the + hope that animates my heart. It was but to enjoy these brief bright + moments with thee, that I delayed my departure to Palestrina. Could I but + hope to bring my young cousin into amity with thy brother, no barrier + would prevent our union. Willingly I forget the past—the death of my + unhappy kinsmen, (victims, it is true, to their own faults;) and, perhaps, + amidst all the crowds that hailed his return, none more appreciated the + great and lofty qualities of Cola di Rienzi, than did Adrian Colonna.” + </p> + <p> + “If this be so,” said Irene, “let me hope the best; meanwhile, it is + enough of comfort and of happiness to know, that we love each other as of + old. Ah, Adrian, I am sadly changed; and often have I thought it a thing + beyond my dreams, that thou shouldst see me again and love me still.” + </p> + <p> + “Fairer art thou and lovelier than ever,” answered Adrian, passionately; + “and time, which has ripened thy bloom, has but taught me more deeply to + feel thy value. Farewell, Irene, I linger here no longer; thou wilt, I + trust, hear soon of my success with my House, and ere the week be over I + may return to claim thy hand in the face of day.” + </p> + <p> + The lovers parted; Adrian lingered on the spot, and Irene hastened to bury + her emotion and her raptures in her own chamber. + </p> + <p> + As her form vanished, and the young Colonna slowly turned away, a tall + mask strode abruptly towards him. + </p> + <p> + “Thou art a Colonna,” it said, “and in the power of the Senator. Dost thou + tremble?” + </p> + <p> + “If I be a Colonna, rude masker,” answered Adrian, coldly, “thou shouldst + know the old proverb, ‘He who stirs the column, shall rue the fall.’” + </p> + <p> + The stranger laughed aloud, and then lifting his mask, Adrian saw that it + was the Senator who stood before him. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord Adrian di Castello,” said Rienzi, resuming all his gravity, “is + it as friend or foe that you have honoured our revels this night?” + </p> + <p> + “Senator of Rome,” answered Adrian, with equal stateliness, “I partake of + no man’s hospitality but as a friend. A foe, at least to you, I trust + never justly to be esteemed.” + </p> + <p> + “I would,” rejoined Rienzi, “that I could apply to myself unreservedly + that most flattering speech. Are these friendly feelings entertained + towards me as the Governor of the Roman people, or as the brother of the + woman who has listened to your vows?” + </p> + <p> + Adrian, who when the Senator had unmasked had followed his example, felt + at these words that his eye quailed beneath Rienzi’s. However, he + recovered himself with the wonted readiness of an Italian, and replied + laconically, + </p> + <p> + “As both.” + </p> + <p> + “Both!” echoed Rienzi. “Then, indeed, noble Adrian, you are welcome + hither. And yet, methinks, if you conceived there was no cause for enmity + between us, you would have wooed the sister of Cola di Rienzi in a guise + more worthy of your birth; and, permit me to add, of that station which + God, destiny, and my country, have accorded unto me. You dare not, young + Colonna, meditate dishonour to the sister of the Senator of Rome. Highborn + as you are, she is your equal.” + </p> + <p> + “Were I the Emperor, whose simple knight I but am, your sister were my + equal,” answered Adrian, warmly. “Rienzi, I grieve that I am discovered to + you yet. I had trusted that, as a mediator between the Barons and + yourself, I might first have won your confidence, and then claimed my + reward. Know that with tomorrow’s dawn I depart for Palestrina, seeking to + reconcile my young cousin to the choice of the People and the Pontiff. + Various reasons, which I need not now detail, would have made me wish to + undertake this heraldry of peace without previous communication with you. + But since we have met, intrust me with any terms of conciliation, and I + pledge you the right hand, not of a Roman noble—alas! the prisca + fides has departed from that pledge!—but of a Knight of the Imperial + Court, that I will not betray your confidence.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi, accustomed to read the human countenance, had kept his eyes + intently fixed upon Adrian while he spoke; when the Colonna concluded, he + pressed the proffered hand, and said, with that familiar and winning + sweetness which at times was so peculiar to his manner, + </p> + <p> + “I trust you, Adrian, from my soul. You were mine early friend in calmer, + perchance happier, years. And never did river reflect the stars more + clearly, than your heart then mirrored back the truth. I trust you!” + </p> + <p> + While thus speaking, he had mechanically led back the Colonna to the + statue of the Lion; there pausing, he resumed: + </p> + <p> + “Know that I have this morning despatched my delegate to your cousin + Stefanello. With all due courtesy, I have apprised him of my return to + Rome, and invited hither his honoured presence. Forgetting all ancient + feuds, mine own past exile, I have assured him, here, the station and + dignity due to the head of the Colonna. All that I ask in return is + obedience to the law. Years and reverses have abated my younger pride, and + though I may yet preserve the sternness of the Judge, none shall hereafter + complain of the insolence of the Tribune.” + </p> + <p> + “I would,” answered Adrian, “that your mission to Stefanello had been + delayed a day; I would fain have forestalled its purport. Howbeit, you + increase my desire of departure, should I yet succeed in obtaining an + honourable and peaceful reconciliation, it is not in disguise that I will + woo your sister.” + </p> + <p> + “And never did Colonna,” replied Rienzi, loftily, “bring to his House a + maiden whose alliance more gratified ambition. I still see, as I have seen + ever, in mine own projects, and mine own destinies, the chart of the new + Roman Empire!” + </p> + <p> + “Be not too sanguine yet, brave Rienzi,” replied Adrian, laying his hand + on the Lion of Basalt: “bethink thee on how many scheming brains this dumb + image of stone hath looked down from its pedestal—schemes of sand, + and schemers of dust. Thou hast enough, at present, for the employ of all + thine energy—not to extend thy power, but to preserve thyself. For, + trust me, never stood human greatness on so wild and dark a precipice!” + </p> + <p> + “Thou art honest,” said the Senator; “and these are the first words of + doubt, and yet of sympathy, I have heard in Rome. But the People love me, + the Barons have fled from Rome, the Pontiff approves, and the swords of + the Northmen guard the avenues of the Capitol. But these are nought; in + mine own honesty are my spear and buckler. Oh, never,” continued Rienzi, + kindling with his enthusiasm, “never since the days of the old Republic, + did Roman dream a purer and a brighter aspiration, than that which + animates and supports me now. Peace restored—law established—art, + letters, intellect, dawning upon the night of time; the Patricians, no + longer bandits of rapine, but the guard of order; the People ennobled from + a mob, brave to protect, enlightened to guide, themselves. Then, not by + the violence of arms, but by the majesty of her moral power, shall the + Mother of Nations claim the obedience of her children. Thus dreaming and + thus hoping, shall I tremble or despond? No, Adrian Colonna, come weal or + woe, I abide, unshrinking and unawed, by the chances of my doom!” + </p> + <p> + So much did the manner and the tone of the Senator exalt his language, + that even the sober sense of Adrian was enchanted and subdued. He kissed + the hand he held, and said earnestly, + </p> + <p> + “A doom that I will deem it my boast to share—a career that it will + be my glory to smooth. If I succeed in my present mission—” + </p> + <p> + “You are my brother!” said Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + “If I fail?” + </p> + <p> + “You may equally claim that alliance. You pause—you change colour.” + </p> + <p> + “Can I desert my house?” + </p> + <p> + “Young Lord,” said Rienzi, loftily, “say rather can you desert your + country? If you doubt my honesty, if you fear my ambition, desist from + your task, rob me not of a single foe. But if you believe that I have the + will and the power to serve the State—if you recognise, even in the + reverses and calamities I have known and mastered, the protecting hand of + the Saviour of Nations—if those reverses were but the mercies of Him + who chasteneth—necessary, it may be, to correct my earlier daring + and sharpen yet more my intellect—if, in a word, thou believest me + one whom, whatever be his faults, God hath preserved for the sake of Rome, + forget that you are a Colonna—remember only that you are a Roman!” + </p> + <p> + “You have conquered me, strange and commanding spirit,” said Adrian, in a + low voice, completely carried away; “and whatever the conduct of my + kindred, I am yours and Rome’s. Farewell.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0057" id="link2HCH0057"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 9.III. Adrian’s Adventures at Palestrina. + </h2> + <p> + It was yet noon when Adrian beheld before him the lofty mountains that + shelter Palestrina, the Praeneste of the ancient world. Back to a period + before Romulus existed, in the earliest ages of that mysterious + civilisation which in Italy preceded the birth of Rome, could be traced + the existence and the power of that rocky city. Eight dependent towns + owned its sway and its wealth; its position, and the strength of those + mighty walls, in whose ruins may yet be traced the masonry of the remote + Pelasgi, had long braved the ambition of the neighbouring Rome. From that + very citadel, the Mural Crown (Hence, apparently, its Greek name of + Stephane. Palestrina is yet one of the many proofs which the vicinity of + Rome affords of the old Greek civilization of Italy.) of the mountain, had + waved the standard of Marius; and up the road which Adrian’s scanty troop + slowly wound, had echoed the march of the murtherous Sylla, on his return + from the Mithridatic war. Below, where the city spread towards the plain, + were yet seen the shattered and roofless columns of the once celebrated + Temple of Fortune; and still the immemorial olives clustered grey and + mournfully around the ruins. + </p> + <p> + A more formidable hold the Barons of Rome could not have selected; and as + Adrian’s military eye scanned the steep ascent and the rugged walls, he + felt that with ordinary skill it might defy for months all the power of + the Roman Senator. Below, in the fertile valley, dismantled cottages and + trampled harvests attested the violence and rapine of the insurgent + Barons; and at that very moment were seen, in the old plain of the warlike + Hernici, troops of armed men, driving before them herds of sheep and + cattle, collected in their lawless incursions. In sight of that Praeneste, + which had been the favourite retreat of the luxurious Lords of Rome in its + most polished day, the Age of Iron seemed renewed. + </p> + <p> + The banner of the Colonna, borne by Adrian’s troop, obtained ready + admittance at the Porta del Sole. As he passed up the irregular and narrow + streets that ascended to the citadel, groups of foreign mercenaries,—half-ragged, + half-tawdry knots of abandoned women,—mixed here and there with the + liveries of the Colonna, stood loitering amidst the ruins of ancient fanes + and palaces, or basked lazily in the sun, upon terraces, through which, + from amidst weeds and grass, glowed the imperishable hues of the rich + mosaics, which had made the pride of that lettered and graceful nobility, + of whom savage freebooters were now the heirs. + </p> + <p> + The contrast between the Past and Present forcibly occurred to Adrian, as + he passed along; and, despite his order, he felt as if Civilization itself + were enlisted against his House upon the side of Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + Leaving his train in the court of the citadel, Adrian demanded admission + to the presence of his cousin. He had left Stefanello a child on his + departure from Rome, and there could therefore be but a slight and + unfamiliar acquaintance betwixt them, despite their kindred. + </p> + <p> + Peals of laughter came upon his ear, as he followed one of Stefanello’s + gentlemen through a winding passage that led to the principal chamber. The + door was thrown open, and Adrian found himself in a rude hall, to which + some appearance of hasty state and attempted comfort had been given. + Costly arras imperfectly clothed the stone walls, and the rich seats and + decorated tables, which the growing civilization of the northern cities of + Italy had already introduced into the palaces of Italian nobles, strangely + contrasted the rough pavement, spread with heaps of armour negligently + piled around. At the farther end of the apartment, Adrian shudderingly + perceived, set in due and exact order, the implements of torture. + </p> + <p> + Stefanello Colonna, with two other Barons, indolently reclined on seats + drawn around a table, in the recess of a deep casement, from which might + be still seen the same glorious landscape, bounded by the dim spires of + Rome, which Hannibal and Pyrrhus had ascended that very citadel to survey! + </p> + <p> + Stefanello himself, in the first bloom of youth, bore already on his + beardless countenance those traces usually the work of the passions and + vices of maturest manhood. His features were cast in the mould of the old + Stephen’s; in their clear, sharp, high-bred outline might be noticed that + regular and graceful symmetry, which blood, in men as in animals, will + sometimes entail through generations; but the features were wasted and + meagre. His brows were knit in an eternal frown; his thin and bloodless + lips wore that insolent contempt which seems so peculiarly cold and + unlovely in early youth; and the deep and livid hollows round his eyes, + spoke of habitual excess and premature exhaustion. By him sat (reconciled + by hatred to one another) the hereditary foes of his race; the soft, but + cunning and astute features of Luca di Savelli, contrasted with the broad + frame and ferocious countenance of the Prince of the Orsini. + </p> + <p> + The young head of the Colonna rose with some cordiality to receive his + cousin. “Welcome,” he said, “dear Adrian; you are arrived in time to + assist us with your well-known military skill. Think you not we shall + stand a long siege, if the insolent plebeian dare adventure it? You know + our friends, the Orsini and the Savelli? Thanks to St. Peter, or Peter’s + delegate, we have now happily meaner throats to cut than those of each + other!” + </p> + <p> + Thus saying, Stefanello again threw himself listlessly on his seat, and + the shrill, woman’s voice of Savelli took part in the dialogue. + </p> + <p> + “I would, noble Signor, that you had come a few hours earlier: we are + still making merry at the recollection—he, he, he!” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, excellent,” cried Stefanello, joining in the laugh; “our cousin has + had a loss. Know Adrian, that this base fellow, whom the Pope has had the + impudence to create Senator, dared but yesterday to send us a varlet, whom + he called—by our Lady!—his ambassador!” + </p> + <p> + “Would you could have seen his mantle, Signor Adrian!” chimed in the + Savelli: “purple velvet, as I live, decorated in gold, with the arms of + Rome: we soon spoiled his finery.” + </p> + <p> + “What!” exclaimed Adrian, “you did not break the laws of all nobility and + knighthood?—you offered no insult to a herald!” + </p> + <p> + “Herald, sayst thou?” cried Stefanello, frowning till his eyes were scarce + visible. “It is for Princes and Barons alone to employ heralds. An’ I had + had my will, I would have sent back the minion’s head to the usurper.” + </p> + <p> + “What did ye then?” asked Adrian, coldly. + </p> + <p> + “Bade our swineherds dip the fellow in the ditch, and gave him a night’s + lodging in a dungeon to dry himself withal.” + </p> + <p> + “And this morning—he, he, he!” added the Savelli, “we had him before + us, and drew his teeth, one by one;—I would you could have heard the + fellow mumble out for mercy!” + </p> + <p> + Adrian rose hastily, and struck the table fiercely with his gauntlet. + </p> + <p> + “Stefanello Colonna,” said he, colouring with noble rage, “answer me: did + you dare to inflict this indelible disgrace upon the name we jointly bear? + Tell me, at least, that you protested against this foul treason to all the + laws of civilization and of honour. You answer not. House of the Colonna, + can such be thy representative!” + </p> + <p> + “To me these words!” said Stefanello, trembling with passion. “Beware! + Methinks thou art the traitor, leagued perhaps with yon rascal mob. Well + do I remember that thou, the betrothed of the Demagogue’s sister, didst + not join with my uncle and my father of old, but didst basely leave the + city to her plebeian tyrant.” + </p> + <p> + “That did he!” said the fierce Orsini, approaching Adrian menacingly, + while the gentle cowardice of Savelli sought in vain to pluck him back by + the mantle—“that did he! and but for thy presence, Stefanello—” + </p> + <p> + “Coward and blusterer!” interrupted Adrian, fairly beside himself with + indignation and shame, and dashing his gauntlet in the very face of the + advancing Orsini—“wouldst thou threaten one who has maintained, in + every list of Europe, and against the stoutest Chivalry of the North, the + honour of Rome, which thy deeds the while disgraced? By this gage, I spit + upon and defy thee. With lance and with brand, on horse and on foot, I + maintain against thee and all thy line, that thou art no knight to have + thus maltreated, in thy strongholds, a peaceful and unarmed herald. Yes, + even here, on the spot of thy disgrace, I challenge thee to arms!” + </p> + <p> + “To the court below! Follow me,” said Orsini, sullenly, and striding + towards the threshold. “What, ho there! my helmet and breast-plate!” + </p> + <p> + “Stay, noble Orsini,” said Stefanello. “The insult offered to thee is my + quarrel—mine was the deed—and against me speaks this + degenerate scion of our line. Adrian di Castello—sometime called + Colonna—surrender your sword: you are my prisoner!” + </p> + <p> + “Oh!” said Adrian, grinding his teeth, “that my ancestral blood did not + flow through thy veins—else—but enough! Me! your equal, and + the favoured Knight of the Emperor, whose advent now brightens the + frontiers of Italy!—me—you dare not detain. For your friends, + I shall meet them yet perhaps, ere many days are over, where none shall + separate our swords. Till then, remember, Orsini, that it is against no + unpractised arm that thou wilt have to redeem thine honour!” + </p> + <p> + Adrian, his drawn sword in his hand, strode towards the door, and passed + the Orsini, who stood, lowering and irresolute, in the centre of the + apartment. + </p> + <p> + Savelli whispered Stefanello. “He says, ‘Ere many days be past!’ Be sure, + dear Signor, that he goes to join Rienzi. Remember, the alliance he once + sought with the Tribune’s sister may be renewed. Beware of him! Ought he + to leave the castle? The name of a Colonna, associated with the mob, would + distract and divide half our strength.” + </p> + <p> + “Fear me not,” returned Stefanello, with a malignant smile. “Ere you + spoke, I had determined!” + </p> + <p> + The young Colonna lifted the arras from the wall, opened a door, and + passed into a low hall, in which sate twenty mercenaries. + </p> + <p> + “Quick!” said he. “Seize and disarm yon stranger in the green mantle—but + slay him not. Bid the guard below find dungeons for his train. Quick! ere + he reach the gate.” + </p> + <p> + Adrian had gained the open hall below—his train and his steed were + in sight in the court—when suddenly the soldiery of the Colonna, + rushing through another passage than that which he had passed, surrounded + and intercepted his retreat. + </p> + <p> + “Yield thee, Adrian di Castello,” cried Stefanello from the summit of the + stairs; “or your blood be on your own head.” + </p> + <p> + Three steps did Adrian make through the press, and three of his enemies + fell beneath his sword. “To the rescue!” he shouted to his band, and + already those bold and daring troopers had gained the hall. Presently the + alarum bell tolled loud—the court swarmed with soldiers. Oppressed + by numbers, beat down rather than subdued, Adrian’s little train was soon + secured, and the flower of the Colonna, wounded, breathless, disarmed, but + still uttering loud defiance, was a prisoner in the fortress of his + kinsman. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0058" id="link2HCH0058"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 9.IV. The Position of the Senator.—The Work of Years.—The + </h2> + <p> + Rewards of Ambition. + </p> + <p> + The indignation of Rienzi may readily be conceived, on the return of his + herald mutilated and dishonoured. His temper, so naturally stern, was + rendered yet more hard by the remembrance of his wrongs and trials; and + the result which attended his overtures of conciliation to Stefanello + Colonna stung him to the soul. + </p> + <p> + The bell of the Capitol tolled to arms within ten minutes after the return + of the herald. The great gonfalon of Rome was unfurled on the highest + tower; and the very evening after Adrian’s arrest, the forces of the + Senator, headed by Rienzi in person, were on the road to Palestrina. The + troopers of the Barons had, however, made incursions as far as Tivoli with + the supposed connivance of the inhabitants, and Rienzi halted at that + beautiful spot to raise recruits, and receive the allegiance of the + suspected, while his soldiers, with Arimbaldo and Brettone at their head, + went in search of the marauders. The brothers of Montreal returned late at + night with the intelligence, that the troopers of the Barons had secured + themselves amidst the recesses of the wood of Pantano. + </p> + <p> + The red spot mounted to Rienzi’s brow. He gazed hard at Brettone, who + stated the news to him, and a natural suspicion shot across his mind. + </p> + <p> + “How!—escaped!” he said. “Is it possible? Enough of such idle + skirmishes with these lordly robbers. Will the hour ever come when I shall + meet them hand to hand? Brettone,” and the brother of Montreal felt the + dark eye of Rienzi pierce to his very heart; “Brettone!” said he, with an + abrupt change of voice, “are your men to be trusted? Is there no + connivance with the Barons?” + </p> + <p> + “How!” said Brettone, sullenly, but somewhat confused. + </p> + <p> + “How me no hows!” quoth the Tribune-Senator, fiercely. “I know that thou + art a valiant Captain of valiant men. Thou and thy brother Arimbaldo have + served me well, and I have rewarded ye well! Have I not? Speak!” + </p> + <p> + “Senator,” answered Arimbaldo, taking up the word, “you have kept your + word to us. You have raised us to the highest rank your power could + bestow, and this has amply atoned our humble services.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad ye allow thus much,” said the Tribune. + </p> + <p> + Arimbaldo proceeded, somewhat more loftily, “I trust, my Lord, you do not + doubt us?” + </p> + <p> + “Arimbaldo,” replied Rienzi, in a voice of deep, but half-suppressed + emotion; “you are a lettered man, and you have seemed to share my projects + for the regeneration of our common kind. You ought not to betray me. There + is something in unison between us. But, chide me not, I am surrounded by + treason, and the very air I breathe seems poison to my lips.” + </p> + <p> + There was a pathos mingled with Rienzi’s words which touched the milder + brother of Montreal. He bowed in silence. Rienzi surveyed him wistfully, + and sighed. Then, changing the conversation, he spoke of their intended + siege of Palestrina, and shortly afterwards retired to rest. + </p> + <p> + Left alone, the brothers regarded each other for some moments in silence. + “Brettone,” said Arimbaldo at length, in a whispered voice, “my heart + misgives me. I like not Walter’s ambitious schemes. With our own + countrymen we are frank and loyal, why play the traitor with this + high-souled Roman?” (The anonymous biographer of Rienzi makes the + following just remark: “Sono li tedeschi, come discendon de la Alemagna, + semplici, puri, senza fraude, come si allocano tra’ taliani, diventano + mastri coduti, viziosi, che sentono ogni malizia.”—“Vita di Cola di + Rienzi”, lib. ii. cap. 16.) + </p> + <p> + “Tush!” said Brettone. “Our brother’s hand of iron alone can sway this + turbulent people; and if Rienzi be betrayed, so also are his enemies, the + Barons. No more of this! I have tidings from Montreal; he will be in Rome + in a few days.” + </p> + <p> + “And then?” + </p> + <p> + “Rienzi, weakened by the Barons (for he must not conquer)—the + Barons, weakened by Rienzi—our Northmen seize the Capitol, and the + soldiery, now scattered throughout Italy, will fly to the standard of the + Great Captain. Montreal must be first Podesta, then King, of Rome.” + </p> + <p> + Arimbaldo moved restlessly in his seat, and the brethren conferred no more + on their projects. + </p> + <p> + The situation of Rienzi was precisely that which tends the most to sour + and to harden the fairest nature. With an intellect capable of the + grandest designs, a heart that beat with the loftiest emotions, elevated + to the sunny pinnacle of power and surrounded by loud-tongued adulators, + he knew not among men a single breast in which he could confide. He was as + one on a steep ascent, whose footing crumbles, while every bough at which + he grasps seems to rot at his touch. He found the people more than ever + eloquent in his favour, but while they shouted raptures as he passed, not + a man was capable of making a sacrifice for him! The liberty of a state is + never achieved by a single individual; if not the people—if not the + greater number—a zealous and fervent minority, at least must go hand + in hand with him. Rome demanded sacrifices in all who sought the Roman + regeneration—sacrifices of time, ease, and money. The crowd followed + the procession of the Senator, but not a single Roman devoted his life, + unpaid, to his standard; not a single coin was subscribed in the defence + of freedom. Against him were arrayed the most powerful and the most + ferocious Barons of Italy; each of whom could maintain, at his own cost, a + little army of practised warriors. With Rienzi were traders and + artificers, who were willing to enjoy the fruits of liberty, but not to + labour at the soil; who demanded, in return for empty shouts, peace and + riches; and who expected that one man was to effect in a day what would be + cheaply purchased by the struggle of a generation. All their dark and rude + notion of a reformed state was to live unbutchered by the Barons and + untaxed by their governors. Rome, I say, gave to her Senator not a free + arm, nor a voluntary florin. (This plain fact is thoroughly borne out by + every authority.) Well aware of the danger which surrounds the ruler who + defends his state by foreign swords, the fondest wish, and the most + visionary dream of Rienzi, was to revive amongst the Romans, in their + first enthusiasm at his return, an organised and voluntary force, who, in + protecting him, would protect themselves:—not, as before, in his + first power, a nominal force of twenty thousand men, who at any hour might + yield (as they did yield) to one hundred and fifty; but a regular, well + disciplined, and trusty body, numerous enough to resist aggression, not + numerous enough to become themselves the aggressors. + </p> + <p> + Hitherto all his private endeavours, his public exhortations, had failed; + the crowd listened—shouted—saw him quit the city to meet their + tyrants, and returned to their shops, saying to each other, “What a great + man!” + </p> + <p> + The character of Rienzi has chiefly received for its judges men of the + closet, who speculate upon human beings as if they were machines; who + gauge the great, not by their merit, but their success; and who have + censured or sneered at the Tribune, where they should have condemned the + People! Had but one-half the spirit been found in Rome which ran through a + single vein of Cola di Rienzi, the august Republic, if not the majestic + empire, of Rome, might be existing now! Turning from the people, the + Senator saw his rude and savage troops, accustomed to the licence of a + tyrant’s camp, and under commanders in whom it was ruin really to confide—whom + it was equal ruin openly to distrust. Hemmed in on every side by dangers, + his character daily grew more restless, vigilant, and stern; and still, + with all the aims of the patriot, he felt all the curses of the tyrant. + Without the rough and hardening career which, through a life of warfare, + had brought Cromwell to a similar power—with more of grace and + intellectual softness in his composition, he resembled that yet greater + man in some points of character—in his religious enthusiasm; his + rigid justice, often forced by circumstance into severity, but never + wantonly cruel or blood-thirsty; in his singular pride of country; and his + mysterious command over the minds of others. But he resembled the giant + Englishman far more in circumstance than original nature, and that + circumstance assimilated their characters at the close of their several + careers. Like Cromwell, beset by secret or open foes, the assassin’s + dagger ever gleamed before his eyes; and his stout heart, unawed by real, + trembled at imagined, terrors. The countenance changing suddenly from red + to white—the bloodshot, restless eye, belying the composed majesty + of mien—the muttering lips—the broken slumber—the secret + corselet; these to both were the rewards of Power! + </p> + <p> + The elasticity of youth had left the Tribune! His frame, which had endured + so many shocks, had contracted a painful disease in the dungeon at Avignon + (“Dicea che ne la prigione era stato ascarmato.” “Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, + lib. ii. cap. 18.)—his high soul still supported him, but the nerves + gave way. Tears came readily into his eyes, and often, like Cromwell, he + was thought to weep from hypocrisy, when in truth it was the hysteric of + over-wrought and irritable emotion. In all his former life singularly + temperate, (“Solea prima esser sobrio, temperato, astinente, or a e + diventato distemperatissimo bevitore,” &c.—Ibid.) he now fled + from his goading thoughts to the beguiling excitement of wine. He drank + deep, though its effects were never visible upon him except in a freer and + wilder mood, and the indulgence of that racy humour, half-mirthful, + half-bitter, for which his younger day had been distinguished. Now the + mirth had more loudness, but the bitterness more gall. + </p> + <p> + Such were the characteristics of Rienzi at his return to power—made + more apparent with every day. Nina he still loved with the same + tenderness, and, if possible, she adored him more than ever: but, the zest + and freshness of triumphant ambition gone, somehow or other, their + intercourse together had not its old charm. Formerly they talked + constantly of the future—of the bright days in store for them. Now, + with a sharp and uneasy pang, Rienzi turned from all thought of that “gay + tomorrow.” There was no “gay tomorrow” for him! Dark and thorny as was the + present hour, all beyond seemed yet less cheering and more ominous. Still + he had some moments, brief but brilliant, when, forgetting the iron race + amongst whom he was thrown, he plunged into scholastic reveries of the + worshipped Past, and half-fancied that he was of a People worthy of his + genius and his devotion. Like most men who have been preserved through + great dangers, he continued with increasing fondness to nourish a + credulous belief in the grandeur of his own destiny. He could not imagine + that he had been so delivered, and for no end! He was the Elected, and + therefore the Instrument, of Heaven. And thus, that Bible which in his + loneliness, his wanderings, and his prison, had been his solace and + support, was more than ever needed in his greatness. + </p> + <p> + It was another cause of sorrow and chagrin to one who, amidst such + circumstances of public danger, required so peculiarly the support and + sympathy of private friends,—that he found he had incurred amongst + his old coadjutors the common penalty of absence. A few were dead; others, + wearied with the storms of public life, and chilled in their ardour by the + turbulent revolutions to which, in every effort for her amelioration, Rome + had been subjected, had retired,—some altogether from the city, some + from all participation in political affairs. In his halls, the + Tribune-Senator was surrounded by unfamiliar faces, and a new generation. + Of the heads of the popular party, most were animated by a stern dislike + to the Pontifical domination, and looked with suspicion and repugnance + upon one who, if he governed for the People, had been trusted and honoured + by the Pope. Rienzi was not a man to forget former friends, however lowly, + and had already found time to seek an interview with Cecco del Vecchio. + But that stern Republican had received him with coldness. His foreign + mercenaries, and his title of Senator, were things that the artisan could + not digest. With his usual bluntness, he had said so to Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + “As for the last,” answered the Tribune, affably, “names do not alter + natures. When I forget that to be delegate to the Pontiff is to be the + guardian of his flock, forsake me. As for the first, let me but see five + hundred Romans sworn to stand armed day and night for the defence of Rome, + and I dismiss the Northmen.” + </p> + <p> + Cecco del Vecchio was unsoftened; honest, but uneducated—impracticable, + and by nature a malcontent, he felt as if he were no longer necessary to + the Senator, and this offended his pride. Strange as it may seem, the + sullen artisan bore, too, a secret grudge against Rienzi, for not having + seen and selected him from a crowd of thousands on the day of his + triumphal entry. Such are the small offences which produce deep danger to + the great! + </p> + <p> + The artisans still held their meetings, and Cecco del Vecchio’s voice was + heard loud in grumbling forebodings. But what wounded Rienzi yet more than + the alienation of the rest, was the confused and altered manner of his old + friend and familiar, Pandulfo di Guido. Missing that popular citizen among + those who daily offered their homage at the Capitol, he had sent for him, + and sought in vain to revive their ancient intimacy. Pandulfo affected + great respect, but not all the condescension of the Senator could conquer + his distance and his restraint. In fact, Pandulfo had learned to form + ambitious projects of his own; and but for the return of Rienzi, Pandulfo + di Guido felt that he might now, with greater safety, and indeed with some + connivance from the Barons, have been the Tribune of the People. The + facility to rise into popular eminence which a disordered and corrupt + state, unblest by a regular constitution, offers to ambition, breeds the + jealousy and the rivalship which destroy union, and rot away the ties of + party. + </p> + <p> + Such was the situation of Rienzi, and yet, wonderful to say, he seemed to + be adored by the multitude; and law and liberty, life and death, were in + his hands! + </p> + <p> + Of all those who attended his person, Angelo Villani was the most + favoured; that youth who had accompanied Rienzi in his long exile, had + also, at the wish of Nina, attended him from Avignon, through his sojourn + in the camp of Albornoz. His zeal, intelligence, and frank and evident + affection, blinded the Senator to the faults of his character, and + established him more and more in the gratitude of Rienzi. He loved to feel + that one faithful heart beat near him, and the page, raised to the rank of + his chamberlain, always attended his person, and slept in his + ante-chamber. + </p> + <p> + Retiring that night at Tivoli, to the apartment prepared for him, the + Senator sat down by the open casement, through which were seen, waving in + the starlight, the dark pines that crowned the hills, while the stillness + of the hour gave to his ear the dash of the waterfalls heard above the + regular and measured tread of the sentinels below. Leaning his cheek upon + his hand, Rienzi long surrendered himself to gloomy thought, and, when he + looked up, he saw the bright blue eye of Villani fixed in anxious sympathy + on his countenance. + </p> + <p> + “Is my Lord unwell?” asked the young chamberlain, hesitating. + </p> + <p> + “Not so, my Angelo; but somewhat sick at heart. Methinks, for a September + night, the air is chill!” + </p> + <p> + “Angelo,” resumed Rienzi, who had already acquired that uneasy curiosity + which belongs to an uncertain power,—“Angelo, bring me hither yon + writing implements; hast thou heard aught what the men say of our probable + success against Palestrina?” + </p> + <p> + “Would my Lord wish to learn all their gossip, whether it please or not?” + answered Villani. + </p> + <p> + “If I studied only to hear what pleased me, Angelo, I should never have + returned to Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, then, I heard a constable of the Northmen say, meaningly, that the + place will not be carried.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! And what said the captains of my Roman Legion?” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord, I have heard it whispered that they fear defeat less than they + do the revenge of the Barons, if they are successful.” + </p> + <p> + “And with such tools the living race of Europe and misjudging posterity + will deem that the workman is to shape out the Ideal and the Perfect! + Bring me yon Bible.” + </p> + <p> + As Angelo reverently brought to Rienzi the sacred book, he said, + </p> + <p> + “Just before I left my companions below, there was a rumour that the Lord + Adrian Colonna had been imprisoned by his kinsman.” + </p> + <p> + “I too heard, and I believe, as much,” returned Rienzi: “these Barons + would gibbet their own children in irons, if there were any chance of the + shackles growing rusty for want of prey. But the wicked shall be brought + low, and their strong places shall be made desolate.” + </p> + <p> + “I would, my Lord,” said Villani, “that our Northmen had other captains + than these Provencals.” + </p> + <p> + “Why?” asked Rienzi, abruptly. + </p> + <p> + “Have the creatures of the Captain of the Grand Company ever held faith + with any man whom it suited the avarice or the ambition of Montreal to + betray? Was he not, a few months ago, the right arm of John di Vico, and + did he not sell his services to John di Vico’s enemy, the Cardinal + Albornoz? These warriors barter men as cattle.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou describest Montreal rightly: a dangerous and an awful man. But + methinks his brothers are of a duller and meaner kind; they dare not the + crimes of the Robber Captain. Howbeit, Angelo, thou hast touched a string + that will make discord with sleep tonight. Fair youth, thy young eyes have + need of slumber; withdraw, and when thou hearest men envy Rienzi, think + that—” + </p> + <p> + “God never made Genius to be envied!” interrupted Villani, with an energy + that overcame his respect. “We envy not the sun, but rather the valleys + that ripen beneath his beams.” + </p> + <p> + “Verily, if I be the sun,” said Rienzi, with a bitter and melancholy + smile, “I long for night,—and come it will, to the human as to the + celestial Pilgrim!—Thank Heaven, at least, that our ambition cannot + make us immortal!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0059" id="link2HCH0059"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 9.V. The Biter Bit. + </h2> + <p> + The next morning, when Rienzi descended to the room where his captains + awaited him, his quick eye perceived that a cloud still lowered upon the + brow of Messere Brettone. Arimbaldo, sheltered by the recess of the rude + casement, shunned his eye. + </p> + <p> + “A fair morning, gentles,” said Rienzi; “the Sun laughs upon our + enterprise. I have messengers from Rome betimes—fresh troops will + join us ere noon.” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad, Senator,” answered Brettone, “that you have tidings which will + counteract the ill of those I have to narrate to thee. The soldiers murmur + loudly—their pay is due to them; and, I fear me, that without money + they will not march to Palestrina.” + </p> + <p> + “As they will,” returned Rienzi, carelessly. “It is but a few days since + they entered Rome; pay did they receive in advance—if they demand + more, the Colonna and Orsini may outbid me. Draw off your soldiers, Sir + Knight, and farewell.” + </p> + <p> + Brettone’s countenance fell—it was his object to get Rienzi more and + more in his power, and he wished not to suffer him to gain that strength + which would accrue to him from the fall of Palestrina: the indifference of + the Senator foiled and entrapped him in his own net. + </p> + <p> + “That must not be,” said the brother of Montreal, after a confused + silence; “we cannot leave you thus to your enemies—the soldiers, it + is true, demand pay—” + </p> + <p> + “And should have it,” said Rienzi. “I know these mercenaries—it is + ever with them, mutiny or money. I will throw myself on my Romans, and + triumph—or fall, if so Heaven decrees, with them. Acquaint your + constables with my resolve.” + </p> + <p> + Scarce were these words spoken, ere, as previously concerted with + Brettone, the chief constable of the mercenaries appeared at the door. + “Senator,” said he, with a rough semblance of aspect, “your orders to + march have reached me, I have sought to marshal my men—but—” + </p> + <p> + “I know what thou wouldst say, friend,” interrupted Rienzi, waving his + hand: “Messere Brettone will give you my reply. Another time, Sir Captain, + more ceremony with the Senator of Rome—you may withdraw.” + </p> + <p> + The unforeseen dignity of Rienzi rebuked and abashed the constable; he + looked at Brettone, who motioned him to depart. He closed the door and + withdrew. + </p> + <p> + “What is to be done?” said Brettone. + </p> + <p> + “Sir Knight,” replied Rienzi, gravely, “let us understand each other. + Would you serve me or not? If the first, you are not my equal, but + subordinate—and you must obey and not dictate; if the last, my debt + to you shall be discharged, and the world is wide enough for both.” + </p> + <p> + “We have declared allegiance to you,” answered Brettone, “and it shall be + given.” + </p> + <p> + “One caution before I re-accept your fealty,” replied Rienzi, very slowly. + “For an open foe, I have my sword—for a traitor, mark me, Rome has + the axe; of the first I have no fear; for the last, no mercy.” + </p> + <p> + “These are not words that should pass between friends,” said Brettone, + turning pale with suppressed emotion. + </p> + <p> + “Friends!—ye are my friends, then!—your hands! Friends, so ye + are!—and shall prove it! Dear Arimbaldo, thou, like myself, art + book-learned,—a clerkly soldier. Dost thou remember how in the Roman + history it is told that the Treasury lacked money for the soldiers? The + Consul convened the Nobles. ‘Ye,’ said he, ‘that have the offices and + dignity should be the first to pay for them.’ Ye heed me, my friends; the + nobles took the hint, they found the money—the army was paid. This + example is not lost on you. I have made you the leaders of my force, Rome + hath showered her honours on you. Your generosity shall commence the + example which the Romans shall thus learn of strangers. Ye gaze at me, my + friends! I read your noble souls—and thank ye beforehand. Ye have + the dignity and the office; ye have also the wealth!—pay the + hirelings, pay them!” (See the anonymous biographer, lib. ii. cap. 19.) + </p> + <p> + Had a thunderbolt fallen at the feet of Brettone, he could not have been + more astounded than at this simple suggestion of Rienzi’s. He lifted his + eyes to the Senator’s face, and saw there that smile which he had already, + bold as he was, learned to dread. He felt himself fairly sunk in the pit + he had digged for another. There was that in the Senator-Tribune’s brow + that told him to refuse was to declare open war, and the moment was not + ripe for that. + </p> + <p> + “Ye accede,” said Rienzi; “ye have done well.” + </p> + <p> + The Senator clapped his hands—his guard appeared. + </p> + <p> + “Summon the head constables of the soldiery.” + </p> + <p> + The brothers still remained dumb. + </p> + <p> + The constables entered. + </p> + <p> + “My friends,” said Rienzi, “Messere Brettone and Messere Arimbaldo have my + directions to divide amongst your force a thousand florins. This evening + we encamp beneath Palestrina.” + </p> + <p> + The constables withdrew in visible surprise. Rienzi gazed a moment on the + brothers, chuckling within himself—for his sarcastic humour enjoyed + his triumph. “You lament not your devotion, my friends!” + </p> + <p> + “No,” said Brettone, rousing himself; “the sum but trivially swells our + debt.” + </p> + <p> + “Frankly said—your hands once more!—the good people of Tivoli + expect me in the Piazza—they require some admonitions. Adieu till + noon.” + </p> + <p> + When the door closed on Rienzi, Brettone struck the handle of his sword + fiercely—“The Roman laughs at us,” said he. “But let Walter de + Montreal once appear in Rome, and the proud jester shall pay us dearly for + this.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush!” said Arimbaldo, “walls have ears, and that imp of Satan, young + Villani, seems to me ever at our heels!” + </p> + <p> + “A thousand florins! I trust his heart hath as many drops,” growled the + chafed Brettone, unheeding his brother. + </p> + <p> + The soldiers were paid—the army marched—the eloquence of the + Senator had augmented his force by volunteers from Tivoli, and wild and + half armed peasantry joined his standard from the Campagna and the + neighbouring mountains. + </p> + <p> + Palestrina was besieged: Rienzi continued dexterously to watch the + brothers of Montreal. Under pretext of imparting to the Italian volunteers + the advantage of their military science, he separated them from their + mercenaries, and assigned to them the command of the less disciplined + Italians, with whom, he believed, they could not venture to tamper. He + himself assumed the lead of the Northmen—and, despite themselves, + they were fascinated by his artful, yet dignified affability, and the + personal courage he displayed in some sallies of the besieged Barons. But + as the huntsmen upon all the subtlest windings of their prey,—so + pressed the relentless and speeding Fates upon Cola di Rienzi! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0060" id="link2HCH0060"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 9.VI. The Events Gather to the End. + </h2> + <p> + While this the state of the camp of the besiegers, Luca di Savelli and + Stefanello Colonna were closeted with a stranger, who had privately + entered Palestrina on the night before the Romans pitched their tents + beneath its walls. This visitor, who might have somewhat passed his + fortieth year, yet retained, scarcely diminished, the uncommon beauty of + form and countenance for which his youth had been remarkable. But it was + no longer that character of beauty which has been described in his first + introduction to the reader. It was no longer the almost woman delicacy of + feature and complexion, or the highborn polish, and graceful suavity of + manner, which distinguished Walter de Montreal: a life of vicissitude and + war had at length done its work. His bearing was now abrupt and imperious, + as that of one accustomed to rule wild spirits, and he had exchanged the + grace of persuasion for the sternness of command. His athletic form had + grown more spare and sinewy, and instead of the brow half shaded by fair + and clustering curls, his forehead, though yet but slightly wrinkled, was + completely bald at the temples; and by its unwonted height, increased the + dignity and manliness of his aspect. The bloom of his complexion was + faded, less by outward exposure than inward thought, into a bronzed and + settled paleness; and his features seemed more marked and prominent, as + the flesh had somewhat sunk from the contour of the cheek. Yet the change + suited the change of age and circumstance; and if the Provencal now less + realised the idea of the brave and fair knight-errant, he but looked the + more what the knight-errant had become—the sagacious counsellor and + the mighty leader. + </p> + <p> + “You must be aware,” said Montreal, continuing a discourse which appeared + to have made great impression on his companions, “that in this contest + between yourselves and the Senator, I alone hold the balance. Rienzi is + utterly in my power—my brothers, the leaders of his army; myself, + his creditor. It rests with me to secure him on the throne, or to send him + to the scaffold. I have but to give the order, and the Grand Company enter + Rome; but without their agency, methinks if you keep faith with me, our + purpose can be effected.” + </p> + <p> + “In the meanwhile, Palestrina is besieged by your brothers!” said + Stefanello, sharply. + </p> + <p> + “But they have my orders to waste their time before its walls. Do you not + see, that by this very siege, fruitless, as, if I will, it shall be, + Rienzi loses fame abroad, and popularity in Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Knight,” said Luca di Savelli, “you speak as a man versed in the + profound policy of the times; and under all the circumstances which menace + us, your proposal seems but fitting and reasonable. On the one hand, you + undertake to restore us and the other Barons to Rome; and to give Rienzi + to the Staircase of the Lion—” + </p> + <p> + “Not so, not so,” replied Montreal, quickly. “I will consent either so to + subdue and cripple his power, as to render him a puppet in our hands, a + mere shadow of authority—or, if his proud spirit chafe at its cage, + to give it once more liberty amongst the wilds of Germany. I would fetter + or banish him, but not destroy; unless (added Montreal, after a moment’s + pause) fate absolutely drives us to it. Power should not demand victims; + but to secure it, victims may be necessary.” + </p> + <p> + “I understand your refinements,” said Luca di Savelli, with his icy smile, + “and am satisfied. The Barons once restored, our palaces once more manned, + and I am willing to take the chance of the Senator’s longevity. This + service you promise to effect?” + </p> + <p> + “I do.” + </p> + <p> + “And, in return, you demand our assent to your enjoying the rank of + Podesta for five years?” + </p> + <p> + “You say right.” + </p> + <p> + “I, for one, accede to the terms,” said the Savelli: “there is my hand; I + am wearied of these brawls, even amongst ourselves, and think that a + Foreign Ruler may best enforce order: the more especially, if like you, + Sir Knight, one whose birth and renown are such as to make him comprehend + the difference between Barons and Plebeians.” + </p> + <p> + “For my part,” said Stefanello, “I feel that we have but a choice of evils—I + like not a foreign Podesta; but I like a plebeian Senator still less;—there + too is my hand, Sir Knight.” + </p> + <p> + “Noble Signors,” said Montreal, after a short pause, and turning his + piercing gaze from one to the other with great deliberation, “our compact + is sealed; one word by way of codicil. Walter de Montreal is no Count + Pepin of Minorbino! Once before, little dreaming, I own, that the victory + would be so facile, I intrusted your cause and mine to a deputy; your + cause he promoted, mine he lost. He drove out the Tribune, and then + suffered the Barons to banish himself. This time I see to my own affairs; + and, mark you, I have learned in the Grand Company one lesson; viz. never + to pardon spy or deserter, of whatever rank. Your forgiveness for the + hint. Let us change the theme. So ye detain in your fortress my old friend + the Baron di Castello?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay,” said Luca di Savelli; for Stefanello, stung by Montreal’s threat, + which he dared not openly resent, preserved a sullen silence; “Ay, he is + one noble the less to the Senator’s council.” + </p> + <p> + “You act wisely. I know his views and temper; at present dangerous to our + interests. Yet use him well, I entreat you; he may hereafter serve us. And + now, my Lords, my eyes are weary, suffer me to retire. Pleasant dreams of + the New Revolution to us all!” + </p> + <p> + “By your leave, noble Montreal, we will attend you to your couch,” said + Luca di Savelli. + </p> + <p> + “By my troth, and ye shall not. I am no Tribune to have great Signors for + my pages; but a plain gentleman, and a hardy soldier: your attendants will + conduct me to whatever chamber your hospitality assigns to one who could + sleep soundly beneath the rudest hedge under your open skies.” + </p> + <p> + Savelli, however, insisted on conducting the Podesta that was to be, to + his apartment. He then returned to Stefanello, whom he found pacing the + saloon with long and disordered strides. + </p> + <p> + “What have we done, Savelli?” said he, quickly; “sold our city to a + barbarian!” + </p> + <p> + “Sold!” said Savelli; “to my mind it is the other part of the contract in + which we have played our share. We have bought, Colonna, not sold—bought + our lives from yon army; bought our power, our fortunes, our castles, from + the Demagogue Senator; bought, what is better than all, triumph and + revenge. Tush, Colonna, see you not that if we had balked this great + warrior, we had perished? Leagued with the Senator, the Grand Company + would have marched to Rome; and, whether Montreal assisted or murdered + Rienzi, (for methinks he is a Romulus, who would brook no Remus), we had + equally been undone. Now, we have made our own terms, and our shares are + equal. Nay, the first steps to be taken are in our favour. Rienzi is to be + snared, and we are to enter Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “And then the Provencal is to be Despot of the city.” + </p> + <p> + “Podesta, if you please. Podestas who offend the people are often + banished, and sometimes stoned—Podestas who insult the nobles are + often stilettoed, and sometimes poisoned,” said Savelli. “‘Sufficient for + the day is the evil thereof.’ Meanwhile, say nothing to the bear, Orsini. + Such men mar all wisdom. Come, cheer thee, Stefanello.” + </p> + <p> + “Luca di Savelli, you have not such a stake in Rome as I have,” said the + young Lord, haughtily; “no Podesta can take from you the rank of the first + Signor of the Italian metropolis!” + </p> + <p> + “An you had said so to the Orsini, there would have been drawing of + swords,” said Savelli. “But cheer thee, I say; is not our first care to + destroy Rienzi, and then, between the death of one foe and the rise of + another, are there not such preventives as Ezzelino da Romano has taught + to wary men? Cheer thee, I say; and, next year, if we but hold together, + Stefanello Colonna and Luca di Savelli will be joint Senators of Rome, and + these great men food for worms!” + </p> + <p> + While thus conferred the Barons, Montreal, ere he retired to rest, stood + gazing from the open lattice of his chamber over the landscape below, + which slept in the autumnal moonlight, while at a distance gleamed, pale + and steady, the lights round the encampment of the besiegers. + </p> + <p> + “Wide plains and broad valleys,” thought the warrior, “soon shall ye + repose in peace beneath a new sway, against which no petty tyrant shall + dare rebel. And ye, white walls of canvass, even while I gaze—ye + admonish me how realms are won. Even as, of old, from the Nomad tents was + built up the stately Babylon, (Isaiah, c. xxii.) that ‘was not till the + Assyrian founded it for them that dwell in the wilderness;’ so by the new + Ishmaelites of Europe shall a race, undreamt of now, be founded; and the + camp of yesterday, be the city of tomorrow. Verily, when, for one soft + offence, the Pontiff thrust me from the bosom of the Church, little + guessed he what enemy he raised to Rome! How solemn is the night!—how + still the heavens and earth!—the very stars are as hushed, as if + intent on the events that are to pass below! So solemn and so still feels + mine own spirit, and an awe unknown till now warns me that I approach the + crisis of my daring fate!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0073" id="link2H_4_0073"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + BOOK X. THE LION Of BASALT. + </h2> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Ora voglio contare la morte del Tribuno.”—(“Vita di Cola di + Rienzi”, lib. ii. cap. 24.) + + “Now will I narrate the death of the Tribune.”—“Life of + Cola di Rienzi”. +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0061" id="link2HCH0061"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 10.I. The Conjunction of Hostile Planets in the House of Death. + </h2> + <p> + On the fourth day of the siege, and after beating back to those almost + impregnable walls the soldiery of the Barons, headed by the Prince of the + Orsini, the Senator returned to his tent, where despatches from Rome + awaited him. He ran his eye hastily over them, till he came to the last; + yet each contained news that might have longer delayed the eye of a man + less inured to danger. From one he learned that Albornoz, whose blessing + had confirmed to him the rank of Senator, had received with special favour + the messengers of the Orsini and Colonna. He knew that the Cardinal, whose + views connected him with the Roman Patricians, desired his downfall; but + he feared not Albornoz: perhaps in his secret heart he wished that any + open aggression from the Pontiff’s Legate might throw him wholly on the + people. + </p> + <p> + He learned further, that, short as had been his absence, Pandulfo di Guido + had twice addressed the populace, not in favour of the Senator, but in + artful regrets of the loss to the trade of Rome in the absence of her + wealthiest nobles. + </p> + <p> + “For this, then, he has deserted me,” said Rienzi to himself. “Let him + beware!” + </p> + <p> + The tidings contained in the next touched him home: Walter de Montreal had + openly arrived in Rome. The grasping and lawless bandit, whose rapine + filled with a robber’s booty every bank in Europe—whose Company was + the army of a King—whose ambition, vast, unprincipled, and profound, + he so well knew—whose brothers were in his camp—their treason + already more than suspected;—Walter de Montreal was in Rome! + </p> + <p> + The Senator remained perfectly aghast at this new peril; and then said, + setting his teeth as in a vice, + </p> + <p> + “Wild tiger, thou art in the Lion’s den!” Then pausing, he broke out + again, “One false step, Walter de Montreal, and all the mailed hands of + the Grand Company shall not pluck thee from the abyss! But what can I do? + Return to Rome—the plans of Montreal unpenetrated—no + accusation against him! On what pretence can I with honour raise the + siege? To leave Palestrina, is to give a triumph to the Barons—to + abandon Adrian, to degrade my cause. Yet, while away from Rome, every hour + breeds treason and danger. Pandulfo, Albornoz, Montreal—all are at + work against me. A keen and trusty spy, now;—ha, well thought of—Villani!—What, + ho—Angelo Villani!” + </p> + <p> + The young chamberlain appeared. + </p> + <p> + “I think,” said Rienzi, “to have often heard, that thou art an orphan?” + </p> + <p> + “True, my Lord; the old Augustine nun who reared my boyhood, has told me + again and again that my parents are dead. Both noble, my Lord; but I am + the child of shame. And I say it often, and think of it ever, in order to + make Angelo Villani remember that he has a name to win.” + </p> + <p> + “Young man, serve me as you have served, and if I live you shall have no + need to call yourself an orphan. Mark me! I want a friend—the + Senator of Rome wants a friend—only one friend—gentle Heaven! + only one!” + </p> + <p> + Angelo sank on his knee, and kissed the mantle of his Lord. + </p> + <p> + “Say a follower. I am too mean to be Rienzi’s friend.” + </p> + <p> + “Too mean!—go to!—there is nothing mean before God, unless it + be a base soul under high titles. With me, boy, there is but one nobility, + and Nature signs its charter. Listen: thou hearest daily of Walter de + Montreal, brother to these Provencals—great captain of great + robbers?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, and I have seen him, my Lord.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, he is in Rome. Some daring thought—some well-supported + and deep-schemed villany, could alone make that bandit venture openly into + an Italian city, whose territories he ravaged by fire and sword a few + months back. But his brothers have lent me money—assisted my return;—for + their own ends, it is true: but the seeming obligation gives them real + power. These Northern swordsmen would cut my throat if the Great Captain + bade them. He counts on my supposed weakness. I know him of old. I suspect—nay + I read, his projects; but I cannot prove them. Without proof, I cannot + desert Palestrina in order to accuse and seize him. Thou art shrewd, + thoughtful, acute;—couldst thou go to Rome?—watch day and + night his movements—see if he receive messengers from Albornoz or + the Barons—if he confer with Pandulfo di Guido;—watch his + lodgment, I say, night and day. He affects no concealment; your task will + be less difficult than it seems. Apprise the Signora of all you learn. + Give me your news daily. Will you undertake this mission?” + </p> + <p> + “I will, my Lord.” + </p> + <p> + “To horse, then, quick!—and mind—save the wife of my bosom, I + have no confidant in Rome.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0062" id="link2HCH0062"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 10.II. Montreal at Rome.—His Reception of Angelo Villani. + </h2> + <p> + The danger that threatened Rienzi by the arrival of Montreal was indeed + formidable. The Knight of St. John, having marched his army into Lombardy, + had placed it at the disposal of the Venetian State in its war with the + Archbishop of Milan. For this service he received an immense sum; while he + provided winter quarters for his troop, for whom he proposed ample work in + the ensuing spring. Leaving Palestrina secretly and in disguise, with but + a slender train, which met him at Tivoli, Montreal repaired to Rome. His + ostensible object was, partly to congratulate the Senator on his return, + partly to receive the monies lent to Rienzi by his brother. + </p> + <p> + His secret object we have partly seen; but not contented with the support + of the Barons, he trusted, by the corrupting means of his enormous wealth, + to form a third party in support of his own ulterior designs. Wealth, + indeed, in that age and in that land, was scarcely less the purchaser of + diadems than it had been in the later days of the Roman Empire. And in + many a city torn by hereditary feuds, the hatred of faction rose to that + extent, that a foreign tyrant, willing and able to expel one party, might + obtain at least the temporary submission of the other. His after-success + was greatly in proportion to his power to maintain his state by a force + which was independent of the citizens, and by a treasury which did not + require the odious recruit of taxes. But more avaricious than ambitious, + more cruel than firm, it was by griping exaction, or unnecessary + bloodshed, that such usurpers usually fell. + </p> + <p> + Montreal, who had scanned the frequent revolutions of the time with a calm + and investigating eye, trusted that he should be enabled to avoid both + these errors: and, as the reader has already seen, he had formed the + profound and sagacious project of consolidating his usurpation by an + utterly new race of nobles, who, serving him by the feudal tenure of the + North, and ever ready to protect him, because in so doing they protected + their own interests, should assist to erect, not the rotten and + unsupported fabric of a single tyranny, but the strong fortress of a new, + hardy, and compact Aristocratic State. Thus had the great dynasties of the + North been founded; in which a King, though seemingly curbed by the + Barons, was in reality supported by a common interest, whether against a + subdued population or a foreign invasion. + </p> + <p> + Such were the vast schemes—extending into yet wider fields of glory + and conquest, bounded only by the Alps—with which the Captain of the + Grand Company beheld the columns and arches of the Seven-hilled City. + </p> + <p> + No fear disturbed the long current of his thoughts. His brothers were the + leaders of Rienzi’s hireling army—that army were his creatures. Over + Rienzi himself he assumed the right of a creditor. Thus against one party + he deemed himself secure. For the friends of the Pope, he had supported + himself with private, though cautious, letters from Albornoz, who desired + only to make use of him for the return of the Roman Barons; and with the + heads of the latter we have already witnessed his negotiations. Thus was + he fitted, as he thought, to examine, to tamper with all parties, and to + select from each the materials necessary for his own objects. + </p> + <p> + The open appearance of Montreal excited in Rome no inconsiderable + sensation. The friends of the Barons gave out that Rienzi was in league + with the Grand Company; and that he was to sell the imperial city to the + plunder and pillage of Barbarian robbers. The effrontery with which + Montreal (against whom, more than once, the Pontiff had thundered his + bulls) appeared in the Metropolitan City of the Church, was made yet more + insolent by the recollection of that stern justice which had led the + Tribune to declare open war against all the robbers of Italy: and this + audacity was linked with the obvious reflection, that the brothers of the + bold Provencal were the instruments of Rienzi’s return. So quickly spread + suspicion through the city, that Montreal’s presence alone would in a few + weeks have sufficed to ruin the Senator. Meanwhile, the natural boldness + of Montreal silenced every whisper of prudence; and, blinded by the dazzle + of his hopes, the Knight of St. John, as if to give double importance to + his coming, took up his residence in a sumptuous palace, and his retinue + rivalled, in the splendour of garb and pomp, the display of Rienzi himself + in his earlier and more brilliant power. + </p> + <p> + Amidst the growing excitement, Angelo Villani arrived at Rome. The + character of this young man had been formed by his peculiar circumstances. + He possessed qualities which often mark the Illegitimate as with a common + stamp. He was insolent—like most of those who hold a doubtful rank; + and while ashamed of his bastardy, was arrogant of the supposed nobility + of his unknown parentage. The universal ferment and agitation of Italy at + that day rendered ambition the most common of all the passions, and thus + ambition, in all its many shades and varieties, forces itself into our + delineations of character in this history. Though not for Angelo Villani + were the dreams of the more lofty and generous order of that sublime + infirmity, he was strongly incited by the desire and resolve to rise. He + had warm affections and grateful impulses; and his fidelity to his patron + had been carried to a virtue: but from his irregulated and desultory + education, and the reckless profligacy of those with whom, in + ante-chambers and guard-rooms, much of his youth had been passed, he had + neither high principles nor an enlightened honour. Like most Italians, + cunning and shrewd, he scrupled not at any deceit that served a purpose or + a friend. His strong attachment to Rienzi had been unconsciously increased + by the gratification of pride and vanity, flattered by the favour of so + celebrated a man. Both self-interest and attachment urged him to every + effort to promote the views and safety of one at once his benefactor and + patron; and on undertaking his present mission, his only thought was to + fulfil it with the most complete success. Far more brave and daring than + was common with the Italians, something of the hardihood of an + Ultra-Montane race gave nerve and vigour to his craft; and from what his + art suggested, his courage never shrunk. + </p> + <p> + When Rienzi had first detailed to him the objects of his present task, he + instantly called to mind his adventure with the tall soldier in the crowd + at Avignon. “If ever thou wantest a friend, seek him in Walter de + Montreal,” were words that had often rung in his ear, and they now + recurred to him with prophetic distinctness. He had no doubt that it was + Montreal himself whom he had seen. Why the Great Captain should have taken + this interest in him, Angelo little cared to conjecture. Most probably it + was but a crafty pretence—one of the common means by which the Chief + of the Grand Company attracted to himself the youths of Italy, as well as + the warriors of the North. He only thought now how he could turn the + Knight’s promise to account. What more easy than to present himself to + Montreal—remind him of the words—enter his service—and + thus effectually watch his conduct? The office of spy was not that which + would have pleased every mind, but it shocked not the fastidiousness of + Angelo Villani; and the fearful hatred with which his patron had often + spoken of the avaricious and barbarian robber—the scourge of his + native land,—had infected the young man, who had much of the + arrogant and mock patriotism of the Romans, with a similar sentiment. More + vindictive even than grateful, he bore, too, a secret grudge against + Montreal’s brothers, whose rough address had often wounded his pride; and, + above all, his early recollections of the fear and execration in which + Ursula seemed ever to hold the terrible Fra Moreale, impressed him with a + vague belief of some ancient wrong to himself or his race, perpetrated by + the Provencal, which he was not ill-pleased to have the occasion to + avenge. In truth, the words of Ursula, mystic and dark as they were in + their denunciation, had left upon Villani’s boyish impressions an + unaccountable feeling of antipathy and hatred to the man it was now his + object to betray. For the rest, every device seemed to him decorous and + justifiable, so that it saved his master, served his country, and advanced + himself. + </p> + <p> + Montreal was alone in his chamber when it was announced to him that a + young Italian craved an audience. Professionally open to access, he + forthwith gave admission to the applicant. + </p> + <p> + The Knight of St. John instantly recognised the page he had encountered at + Avignon; and when Angelo Villani said, with easy boldness, “I have come to + remind Sir Walter de Montreal of a promise—” + </p> + <p> + The Knight interrupted him with cordial frankness—“Thou needest not—I + remember it. Dost thou now require my friendship?” + </p> + <p> + “I do noble Signor!” answered Angelo; “I know not where else to seek a + patron.” + </p> + <p> + “Canst thou read and write? I fear me not.” + </p> + <p> + “I have been taught those arts,” replied Villani. + </p> + <p> + “It is well. Is thy birth gentle?” + </p> + <p> + “It is.” + </p> + <p> + “Better still;—thy name?” + </p> + <p> + “Angelo Villani.” + </p> + <p> + “I take thy blue eyes and low broad brow,” said Montreal, with a slight + sigh, “in pledge of thy truth. Henceforth, Angelo Villani, thou art in the + list of my secretaries. Another time thou shalt tell me more of thyself. + Thy service dates from this day. For the rest, no man ever wanted wealth + who served Walter de Montreal; nor advancement, if he served him + faithfully. My closet, through yonder door, is thy waiting-room. Ask for, + and send hither, Lusignan of Lyons; he is my chief scribe, and will see to + thy comforts, and instruct thee in thy business.” + </p> + <p> + Angelo withdrew—Montreal’s eye followed him. + </p> + <p> + “A strange likeness!” said he, musingly and sadly; “my heart leaps to that + boy!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0063" id="link2HCH0063"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 10.III. Montreal’s Banquet. + </h2> + <p> + Some few days after the date of the last chapter, Rienzi received news + from Rome, which seemed to produce in him a joyous and elated excitement. + His troops still lay before Palestrina, and still the banners of the + Barons waved over its unconquered walls. In truth, the Italians employed + half their time in brawls amongst themselves; the Velletritrani had feuds + with the people of Tivoli, and the Romans were still afraid of conquering + the Barons;—“The hornet,” said they, “stings worse after he is dead; + and neither an Orsini, a Savelli, nor a Colonna, was ever known to + forgive.” + </p> + <p> + Again and again had the captains of his army assured the indignant Senator + that the fortress was impregnable, and that time and money were idly + wasted upon the siege. Rienzi knew better, but he concealed his thoughts. + </p> + <p> + He now summoned to his tent the brothers of Provence, and announced to + them his intention of returning instantly to Rome. “The mercenaries shall + continue the siege under our Lieutenant, and you, with my Roman Legion, + shall accompany me. Your brother, Sir Walter, and I, both want your + presence; we have affairs to arrange between us. After a few days I shall + raise recruits in the city, and return.” + </p> + <p> + This was what the brothers desired; they approved, with evident joy, the + Senator’s proposition. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi next sent for the lieutenant of his bodyguard, the same Riccardo + Annibaldi whom the reader will remember in the earlier part of this work, + as the antagonist of Montreal’s lance. This young man—one of the few + nobles who espoused the cause of the Senator—had evinced great + courage and military ability, and promised fair (should Fate spare his + life (It appears that this was the same Annibaldi who was afterwards slain + in an affray:—Petrarch lauds his valour and laments his fate.)) to + become one of the best Captains of his time. + </p> + <p> + “Dear Annibaldi,” said Rienzi; “at length I can fulfil the project on + which we have privately conferred. I take with me to Rome the two + Provencal Captains—I leave you chief of the army. Palestrina will + yield now—eh!—ha, ha, ha!—Palestrina will yield now!” + </p> + <p> + “By my right hand, I think so, Senator,” replied Annibaldi. “These + foreigners have hitherto only stirred up quarrels amongst ourselves, and + if not cowards are certainly traitors!” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, hush, hush! Traitors! The learned Arimbaldo, the brave Brettone, + traitors! Fie on it! No, no; they are very excellent, honourable men, but + not lucky in the camp;—not lucky in the camp;—better speed to + them in the city! And now to business.” + </p> + <p> + The Senator then detailed to Annibaldi the plan he himself had formed for + taking the town, and the military skill of Annibaldi at once recognised + its feasibility. + </p> + <p> + With his Roman troop, and Montreal’s brothers, one at either hand, Rienzi + then departed to Rome. + </p> + <p> + That night Montreal gave a banquet to Pandulfo di Guido, and to certain of + the principal citizens, whom one by one he had already sounded, and found + hollow at heart to the cause of the Senator. + </p> + <p> + Pandulfo sate at the right hand of the Knight of St. John, and Montreal + lavished upon him the most courteous attentions. + </p> + <p> + “Pledge me in this—it is from the Vale of Chiana, near Monte + Pulciano,” said Montreal. “I think I have heard bookmen say (you know, + Signor Pandulfo, we ought all to be bookmen now!) that the site was + renowned of old. In truth, the wine hath a racy flavour.” + </p> + <p> + “I hear,” said Bruttini, one of the lesser Barons, (a stanch friend to the + Colonna,) “that in this respect the innkeeper’s son has put his + book-learning to some use: he knows every place where the wine grows + richest.” + </p> + <p> + “What! the Senator is turned wine-bibber!” said Montreal, quaffing a vast + goblet full; “that must unfit him for business—‘tis a pity.” + </p> + <p> + “Verily, yes,” said Pandulfo; “a man at the head of a state should be + temperate—I never drink wine unmixed.” + </p> + <p> + “Ah,” whispered Montreal, “if your calm good sense ruled Rome, then, + indeed, the metropolis of Italy might taste of peace. Signor Vivaldi,”—and + the host turned towards a wealthy draper,—“these disturbances are + bad for trade.” + </p> + <p> + “Very, very!” groaned the draper. + </p> + <p> + “The Barons are your best customers,” quoth the minor noble. + </p> + <p> + “Much, much!” said the draper. + </p> + <p> + “‘Tis a pity that they are thus roughly expelled,” said Montreal, in a + melancholy tone. “Would it not be possible, if the Senator (I drink his + health) were less rash—less zealous, rather,—to unite free + institutions with the return of the Barons?—such should be the task + of a truly wise statesman!” + </p> + <p> + “It surely might be possible,” returned Vivaldi; “the Savelli alone spend + more with me than all the rest of Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “I know not if it be possible,” said Bruttini; “but I do know that it is + an outrage to all decorum that an innkeeper’s son should be enabled to + make a solitude of the palaces of Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “It certainly seems to indicate too vulgar a desire of mob favour,” said + Montreal. “However, I trust we shall harmonize all these differences. + Rienzi, perhaps,—nay, doubtless, means well!” + </p> + <p> + “I would,” said Vivaldi, who had received his cue, “that we might form a + mixed constitution—Plebeians and Patricians, each in their separate + order.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” said Montreal, gravely, “so new an experiment would demand great + physical force.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, true; but we might call in an umpire—a foreigner who had no + interest in either faction—who might protect the new Buono Stato; a + Podesta, as we have done before—Brancaleone, for instance. How well + and wisely he ruled! that was a golden age for Rome. A Podesta for ever!—that’s + my theory.” + </p> + <p> + “You need not seek far for the president of your council,” said Montreal, + smiling at Pandulfo; “a citizen at once popular, well-born, and wealthy, + may be found at my right hand.” + </p> + <p> + Pandulfo hemmed, and coloured. + </p> + <p> + Montreal proceeded. “A committee of trades might furnish an honourable + employment to Signor Vivaldi; and the treatment of all foreign affairs—the + employment of armies, &c., might be left to the Barons, with a more + open competition, Signor di Bruttini, to the Barons of the second order + than has hitherto been conceded to their birth and importance. Sirs, will + you taste the Malvoisie?” + </p> + <p> + “Still,” said Vivaldi, after a pause—(Vivaldi anticipated at least + the supplying with cloth the whole of the Grand Company)—“still, + such a moderate and well-digested constitution would never be acceded to + by Rienzi.” + </p> + <p> + “Why should it? what need of Rienzi?” exclaimed Bruttini. “Rienzi may take + another trip to Bohemia.” + </p> + <p> + “Gently, gently,” said Montreal; “I do not despair. All open violence + against the Senator would strengthen his power. No, no, humble him—admit + the Barons, and then insist on your own terms. Between the two factions + you might then establish a fitting balance. And in order to keep your new + constitution from the encroachment of either extreme, there are warriors + and knights, too, who for a certain rank in the great city of Rome would + maintain horse and foot at its service. We Ultra-Montanes are often + harshly judged; we are wanderers and Ishmaelites, solely because we have + no honourable place of rest. Now, if I—” + </p> + <p> + “Ay, if you, noble Montreal!” said Vivaldi. + </p> + <p> + The company remained hushed in breathless attention, when suddenly there + was heard—deep, solemn, muffled,—the great bell of the + Capitol! + </p> + <p> + “Hark!” said Vivaldi, the bell: “It tolls for execution: an unwonted + hour!” + </p> + <p> + “Sure, the Senator has not returned!” exclaimed Pandulfo di Guido, turning + pale. + </p> + <p> + “No, no,” quoth Bruttini, “it is but a robber, caught two nights ago in + Romagna. I heard that he was to die tonight.” + </p> + <p> + At the word “robber,” Montreal changed countenance slightly. The wine + circulated—the bell continued to toll—its suddenness over, it + ceased to alarm. Conversation flowed again. + </p> + <p> + “What were you saying, Sir Knight?” said Vivaldi. + </p> + <p> + “Why, let me think on’t;—oh, speaking of the necessity of supporting + a new state by force, I said that if I—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, that was it!” quoth Bruttini, thumping the table. + </p> + <p> + “If I were summoned to your aid—summoned, mind ye, and absolved by + the Pope’s Legate of my former sins—(they weigh heavily on me, + gentles)—I would myself guard your city from foreign foe and civil + disturbance, with my gallant swordsmen. Not a Roman citizen should + contribute a ‘danaro’ to the cost.” + </p> + <p> + “Viva Fra Moreale!” cried Bruttini; and the shout was echoed by all the + boon companions. + </p> + <p> + “Enough for me,” continued Montreal, “to expiate my offences. Ye know, + gentlemen, my order is vowed to God and the Church—a warrior-monk am + I! Enough for me to expiate my offences, I say, in the defence of the Holy + City. Yet I, too, have my private and more earthly views,—who is + above them? I—the bell changes its note!” + </p> + <p> + “It is but the change that preludes execution—the poor robber is + about to die!” + </p> + <p> + Montreal crossed himself, and resumed:—“I am a knight and a noble,” + said he, proudly; “the profession I have followed is that of arms; but—I + will not disguise it—mine equals have regarded me as one who has + stained his scutcheon by too reckless a pursuit of glory and of gain. I + wish to reconcile myself with my order—to purchase a new name—to + vindicate myself to the Grand Master and the Pontiff. I have had hints, + gentles,—hints, that I might best promote my interest by restoring + order to the Papal metropolis. The Legate Albornoz (here is his letter) + recommends me to keep watch upon the Senator.” + </p> + <p> + “Surely,” interrupted Pandulfo, “I hear steps below.” + </p> + <p> + “The mob going to the robber’s execution,” said Bruttini; “proceed, Sir + Knight!” + </p> + <p> + “And,” continued Montreal, surveying his audience before he proceeded + farther, “what think ye—(I do but ask your opinion, wiser than mine)—what + think ye, as a fitting precaution against too arbitrary a power in the + Senator—what think ye of the return of the Colonna, and the bold + Barons of Palestrina?” + </p> + <p> + “Here’s to their health!” cried Vivaldi, rising. + </p> + <p> + As by a sudden impulse, the company rose. “To the health of the besieged + Barons!” was shouted aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Next, what if—(I do but humbly suggest)—what if you gave the + Senator a colleague?—it is no affront to him. It was but as + yesterday that one of the Colonna, who was Senator, received a colleague + in Bertoldo Orsini.” + </p> + <p> + “A most wise precaution,” cried Vivaldi. “And where a colleague like + Pandulfo di Guido?” + </p> + <p> + “Viva Pandulfo di Guido!” cried the guests, and again their goblets were + drained to the bottom. + </p> + <p> + “And if in this I can assist ye by fair words with the Senator, (ye know + he owes me monies—my brothers have served him), command Walter de + Montreal.” + </p> + <p> + “And if fair words fail?” said Vivaldi. + </p> + <p> + “The Grand Company—(heed me, ye are the counsellors)—the Grand + Company is accustomed to forced marches!” + </p> + <p> + “Viva Fra Moreale!” cried Bruttini and Vivaldi, simultaneously. “A health + to all, my friends;” continued Bruttini; “a health to the Barons, Rome’s + old friends; to Pandulfo di Guido, the Senator’s new colleague, and to Fra + Moreale, Rome’s new Podesta.” + </p> + <p> + “The bell has ceased,” said Vivaldi, putting down his goblet. + </p> + <p> + “Heaven have mercy on the robber!” added Bruttini. + </p> + <p> + Scarce had he spoken, ere three taps were heard at the door—the + guests looked at each other in dumb amaze. + </p> + <p> + “New guests!” said Montreal. “I asked some trusty friends to join us this + evening. By my faith they are welcome! Enter!” + </p> + <p> + The door opened slowly; three by three entered, in complete armour, the + guards of the Senator. On they marched, regular and speechless. They + surrounded the festive board—they filled the spacious hall, and the + lights of the banquet were reflected upon their corselets as on a wall of + steel. + </p> + <p> + Not a syllable was uttered by the feasters, they were as if turned to + stone. Presently the guards gave way, and Rienzi himself appeared. He + approached the table, and folding his arms, turned his gaze deliberately + from guest to guest, till at last, his eyes rested on Montreal, who had + also risen, and who alone of the party had recovered the amaze of the + moment. + </p> + <p> + And there, as these two men, each so celebrated, so proud, able, and + ambitious, stood, front to front—it was literally as if the rival + Spirits of Force and Intellect, Order and Strife, of the Falchion and the + Fasces—the Antagonist Principles by which empires are ruled and + empires overthrown, had met together, incarnate and opposed. They stood, + both silent,—as if fascinated by each other’s gaze,—loftier in + stature, and nobler in presence than all around. + </p> + <p> + Montreal spoke first, and with a forced smile. + </p> + <p> + “Senator of Rome!—dare I believe that my poor banquet tempts thee, + and may I trust that these armed men are a graceful compliment to one to + whom arms have been a pastime?” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi answered not, but waved his hand to his guards. Montreal was seized + on the instant. Again he surveyed the guests—as a bird from the + rattle-snake,—shrunk Pandulfo di Guido, trembling, motionless, + aghast, from the glittering eye of the Senator. Slowly Rienzi raised his + fatal hand towards the unhappy citizen—Pandulfo saw,—felt his + doom,—shrieked,—and fell senseless in the arms of the + soldiers. + </p> + <p> + One other and rapid glance cast the Senator round the board, and then, + with a disdainful smile, as if anxious for no meaner prey, turned away. + Not a breath had hitherto passed his lips—all had been dumb show—and + his grim silence had imparted a more freezing terror to his unguessed-for + apparition. Only, when he reached the door, he turned back, gazed upon the + Knight of St. John’s bold and undaunted face, and said, almost in a + whisper, “Walter de Montreal!—you heard the death-knell!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0064" id="link2HCH0064"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 10.IV. The Sentence of Walter de Montreal. + </h2> + <p> + In silence the Captain of the Grand Company was borne to the prison of the + Capitol. In the same building lodged the rivals for the government of + Rome; the one occupied the prison, the other the palace. The guards + forebore the ceremony of fetters, and leaving a lamp on the table, + Montreal perceived he was not alone,—his brothers had preceded him. + </p> + <p> + “Ye are happily met,” said the Knight of St. John; “we have passed + together pleasanter nights than this is likely to be.” + </p> + <p> + “Can you jest, Walter?” said Arimbaldo, half-weeping. “Know you not that + our doom is fixed? Death scowls upon us.” + </p> + <p> + “Death!” repeated Montreal, and for the first time his countenance + changed; perhaps for the first time in his life he felt the thrill and + agony of fear. + </p> + <p> + “Death!” he repeated again. “Impossible! He dare not, Brettone; the + soldiers, the Northmen!—they will mutiny, they will pluck us back + from the grasp of the headsman!” + </p> + <p> + “Cast from you so vain a hope,” said Brettone sullenly; “the soldiers are + encamped at Palestrina.” + </p> + <p> + “How! Dolt—fool! Came you then to Rome alone! Are we alone with this + dread man?” + </p> + <p> + “You are the dolt! Why came you hither?” answered the brother. + </p> + <p> + “Why, indeed! but that I knew thou wast the Captain of the army; and—but + thou said’st right—the folly is mine, to have played against the + crafty Tribune so unequal a brain as thine. Enough! Reproaches are idle. + When were ye arrested?” + </p> + <p> + “At dusk—the instant we entered the gates of Rome. Rienzi entered + privately.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! What can he know against me? Who can have betrayed me? My + secretaries are tried—all trustworthy—except that youth, and + he so seemingly zealous—that Angelo Villani!” + </p> + <p> + “Villani! Angelo Villani!” cried the brothers in a breath. “Hast thou + confided aught to him?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, I fear he must have seen—at least in part—my + correspondence with you, and with the Barons—he was among my + scribes. Know you aught of him?” + </p> + <p> + “Walter, Heaven hath demented you!” returned Brettone. “Angelo Villani is + the favourite menial of the Senator.” + </p> + <p> + “Those eyes deceived me, then,” muttered Montreal, solemnly and + shuddering; “and, as if her ghost had returned to earth, God smites me + from the grave!” + </p> + <p> + There was a long silence. At length Montreal, whose bold and sanguine + temper was never long clouded, spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “Are the Senator’s coffers full?—But that is impossible.” + </p> + <p> + “Bare as a Dominican’s.” + </p> + <p> + “We are saved, then. He shall name his price for our heads. Money must be + more useful to him than blood.” + </p> + <p> + And as if with that thought all further meditation were rendered + unnecessary, Montreal doffed his mantle, uttered a short prayer, and flung + himself on a pallet in a corner of the cell. + </p> + <p> + “I have slept on worse beds,” said the Knight, stretching himself; and in + a few minutes he was fast asleep. + </p> + <p> + The brothers listened to his deep-drawn, but regular breathing, with envy + and wonder, but they were in no mood to converse. Still and speechless, + they sate like statues beside the sleeper. Time passed on, and the first + cold air of the hour that succeeds to midnight crept through the bars of + their cell. The bolts crashed, the door opened, six men-at-arms entered, + passed the brothers, and one of them touched Montreal. + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” said he, still sleeping, but turning round. “Ha!” said he, in the + soft Provencal tongue, “sweet Adeline, we will not rise yet—it is so + long since we met!” + </p> + <p> + “What says he?” muttered the guard, shaking Montreal roughly. The Knight + sprang up at once, and his hand grasped the head of his bed as for his + sword. He stared round bewildered, rubbed his eyes, and then gazing on the + guard, became alive to the present. + </p> + <p> + “Ye are early risers in the Capitol,” said he. “What want ye of me?” + </p> + <p> + “It waits you!” + </p> + <p> + “It! What?” said Montreal. + </p> + <p> + “The rack!” replied the soldier, with a malignant scowl. + </p> + <p> + The Great Captain said not a word. He looked for one moment at the six + swordsmen, as if measuring his single strength against theirs. His eye + then wandered round the room. The rudest bar of iron would have been + dearer to him than he had ever yet found the proofest steel of Milan. He + completed his survey with a sigh, threw his mantle over his shoulders, + nodded at his brethren, and followed the guard. + </p> + <p> + In a hall of the Capitol, hung with the ominous silk of white rays on a + blood-red ground, sate Rienzi and his councillors. Across a recess was + drawn a black curtain. + </p> + <p> + “Walter de Montreal,” said a small man at the foot of the table, “Knight + of the illustrious order of St. John of Jerusalem—” + </p> + <p> + “And Captain of the Grand Company!” added the prisoner, in a firm voice. + </p> + <p> + “You stand accused of divers counts: robbery and murder, in Tuscany, + Romagna, and Apulia—” + </p> + <p> + “For robbery and murder, brave men, and belted Knights,” said Montreal, + drawing himself up, “would use the words ‘war and victory.’ To those + charges I plead guilty! Proceed.” + </p> + <p> + “You are next accused of treasonable conspiracy against the liberties of + Rome for the restoration of the proscribed Barons—and of traitorous + correspondence with Stefanello Colonna at Palestrina.” + </p> + <p> + “My accuser?” + </p> + <p> + “Step forth, Angelo Villani!” + </p> + <p> + “You are my betrayer, then?” said Montreal steadily. “I deserved this. I + beseech you, Senator of Rome, let this young man retire. I confess my + correspondence with the Colonna, and my desire to restore the Barons.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi motioned to Villani, who bowed and withdrew. + </p> + <p> + “There rests only then for you, Walter de Montreal, to relate, fully and + faithfully, the details of your conspiracy.” + </p> + <p> + “That is impossible,” replied Montreal, carelessly. + </p> + <p> + “And why?” + </p> + <p> + “Because, doing as I please with my own life, I will not betray the lives + of others.” + </p> + <p> + “Bethink thee—thou wouldst have betrayed the life of thy judge!” + </p> + <p> + “Not betrayed—thou didst not trust me.” + </p> + <p> + “The law, Walter de Montreal, hath sharp inquisitors—behold!” + </p> + <p> + The black curtain was drawn aside, and the eye of Montreal rested on the + executioner and the rack! His proud breast heaved indignantly. + </p> + <p> + “Senator of Rome,” said he, “these instruments are for serfs and villeins. + I have been a warrior and a leader; life and death have been in my hands—I + have used them as I listed; but to mine equal and my foe, I never + proffered the insult of the rack.” + </p> + <p> + “Sir Walter de Montreal,” returned the Senator, gravely, but with some + courteous respect, “your answer is that which rises naturally to the lips + of brave men. But learn from me, whom fortune hath made thy judge, that no + more for serf and villein, than for knight and noble, are such instruments + the engines of law, or the tests of truth. I yielded but to the desire of + these reverend councillors, to test thy nerves. But, wert thou the meanest + peasant of the Campagna, before my judgment-seat thou needst not apprehend + the torture. Walter de Montreal, amongst the Princes of Italy thou hast + known, amongst the Roman Barons thou wouldst have aided, is there one who + could make that boast?” + </p> + <p> + “I desired only,” said Montreal, with some hesitation, “to unite the + Barons with thee; nor did I intrigue against thy life!” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi frowned—“Enough,” he said, hastily. “Knight of St. John, I + know thy secret projects, subterfuge and evasion neither befit nor avail + thee. If thou didst not intrigue against my life, thou didst intrigue + against the life of Rome. Thou hast but one favour left to demand on + earth, it is the manner of thy death.” + </p> + <p> + Montreal’s lip worked convulsively. + </p> + <p> + “Senator,” said he, in a low voice, “may I crave audience with thee alone + for one minute?” + </p> + <p> + The councillors looked up. + </p> + <p> + “My Lord,” whispered the eldest of them, “doubtless he hath concealed + weapons—trust him not.” + </p> + <p> + “Prisoner,” returned Rienzi, after a moment’s pause; “if thou seekest for + mercy thy request is idle, and before my coadjutors I have no secret; + speak out what thou hast to say!” + </p> + <p> + “Yet listen to me,” said the prisoner, folding his arms; “it concerns not + my life, but Rome’s welfare.” + </p> + <p> + “Then,” said Rienzi, in an altered tone, “thy request is granted. Thou + mayst add to thy guilt the design of the assassin, but for Rome I would + dare greater danger.” + </p> + <p> + So saying, he motioned to the councillors, who slowly withdrew by the door + which had admitted Villani, while the guards retired to the farthest + extremity of the hall. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Walter de Montreal, be brief, for thy time is short.” + </p> + <p> + “Senator,” said Montreal, “my life can but little profit you; men will say + that you destroyed your creditor in order to cancel your debt. Fix a sum + upon my life, estimate it at the price of a monarch’s; every florin shall + be paid to you, and your treasury will be filled for five years to come. + If the ‘Buono Stato’ depends on your government, what I have asked, your + solicitude for Rome will not permit you to refuse.” + </p> + <p> + “You mistake me, bold robber,” said Rienzi, sternly; “your treason I could + guard against, and therefore forgive; your ambition, never! Mark me, I + know you! Place your hand on your heart and say whether, could we change + places, you, as Rienzi, would suffer all the gold of earth to purchase the + life of Walter de Montreal? For men’s reading of my conduct, that must I + bear; for mine own reading, mine eyes must be purged from corruption. I am + answerable to God for the trust of Rome. And Rome trembles while the head + of the Grand Company lives in the plotting brain and the daring heart of + Walter de Montreal. Man—wealthy, great, and subtle as you are, your + hours are numbered; with the rise of the sun you die!” + </p> + <p> + Montreal’s eyes, fixed upon the Senator’s face, saw hope was over; his + pride and his fortitude returned to him. + </p> + <p> + “We have wasted words,” said he. “I played for a great stake, I have lost, + and must pay the forfeit! I am prepared. On the threshold of the Unknown + World, the dark spirit of prophecy rushes into us. Lord Senator, I go + before thee to announce—that in Heaven or in Hell—ere many + days be over, room must be given to one mightier than I am!” + </p> + <p> + As he spoke, his form dilated, his eye glared; and Rienzi, cowering as + never had he cowered before, shrunk back, and shaded his face with his + hand. + </p> + <p> + “The manner of your death?” he asked, in a hollow voice. + </p> + <p> + “The axe: it is that which befits knight and warrior. For thee, Senator, + Fate hath a less noble death.” + </p> + <p> + “Robber be dumb!” cried Rienzi, passionately; “Guards, bear back the + prisoner. At sunrise, Montreal—” + </p> + <p> + “Sets the sun of the scourge of Italy,” said the Knight, bitterly. “Be it + so. One request more; the Knights of St. John claim affinity with the + Augustine order; grant me an Augustine confessor.” + </p> + <p> + “It is granted; and in return for thy denunciations, I, who can give thee + no earthly mercy, will implore the Judge of all for pardon to thy soul!” + </p> + <p> + “Senator, I have done with man’s mediation. My brethren? Their deaths are + not necessary to thy safety or thy revenge!” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi mused a moment: “No,” said he, “dangerous tools they were, but + without the workman they may rust unharming. They served me once, too. + Prisoner, their lives are spared.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0065" id="link2HCH0065"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 10.V. The Discovery. + </h2> + <p> + The Council was broken up—Rienzi hastened to his own apartments. + Meeting Villani by the way, he pressed the youth’s hand affectionately. + “You have saved Rome and me from great peril,” said he; “the saints reward + you!” Without tarrying for Villani’s answer, he hurried on. Nina, anxious + and perturbed, awaited him in their chamber. + </p> + <p> + “Not a-bed yet?” said he: “fie, Nina, even thy beauty will not stand these + vigils.” + </p> + <p> + “I could not rest till I had seen thee. I hear (all Rome has heard it ere + this) that thou hast seized Walter de Montreal, and that he will perish by + the headsman.” + </p> + <p> + “The first robber that ever died so brave a death,” returned Rienzi, + slowly unrobing himself. + </p> + <p> + “Cola, I have never crossed your schemes,—your policy, even by a + suggestion. Enough for me to triumph in their success, to mourn for their + failure. Now, I ask thee one request—spare me the life of this man.” + </p> + <p> + “Nina—” + </p> + <p> + “Hear me,—for thee I speak! Despite his crimes, his valour and his + genius have gained him admirers, even amongst his foes. Many a prince, + many a state that secretly rejoices at his fall, will affect horror + against his judge. Hear me farther. His brothers aided your return; the + world will term you ungrateful. His brothers lent you monies, the world—(out + on it!)—will term you—” + </p> + <p> + “Hold!” interrupted the Senator. “All that thou sayest, my mind + forestalled. But thou knowest me—to thee I have no disguise. No + compact can bind Montreal’s faith—no mercy win his gratitude. Before + his red right hand truth and justice are swept away. If I condemn Montreal + I incur disgrace and risk danger—granted. If I release him, ere the + first showers of April, the chargers of the Northmen will neigh in the + halls of the Capitol. Which shall I hazard in this alternative, myself or + Rome? Ask me no more—to bed, to bed!” + </p> + <p> + “Couldst thou read my forebodings, Cola, mystic—gloomy—unaccountable?” + </p> + <p> + “Forebodings!—I have mine,” answered Rienzi, sadly, gazing on space, + as if his thoughts peopled it with spectres. Then, raising his eyes to + Heaven, he said with that fanatical energy which made much both of his + strength and weakness—“Lord, mine at least not the sin of Saul! the + Amalekite shall not be saved!” + </p> + <p> + While Rienzi enjoyed a short, troubled, and restless sleep, over which + Nina watched—unslumbering, anxious, tearful, and oppressed with dark + and terrible forewarnings—the accuser was more happy than the judge. + The last thoughts that floated before the young mind of Angelo Villani, + ere wrapped in sleep, were bright and sanguine. He felt no honourable + remorse that he had entrapped the confidence of another—he felt only + that his scheme had prospered, that his mission had been fulfilled. The + grateful words of Rienzi rang in his ear, and hopes of fortune and power, + beneath the sway of the Roman Senator, lulled him into slumber, and + coloured all his dreams. + </p> + <p> + Scarce, however, had he been two hours asleep, ere he was wakened by one + of the attendants of the palace, himself half awake. “Pardon me, Messere + Villani,” said he, “but there is a messenger below from the good Sister + Ursula; he bids thee haste instantly to the Convent—she is sick unto + death, and has tidings that crave thy immediate presence.” + </p> + <p> + Angelo, whose morbid susceptibility as to his parentage was ever excited + by vague but ambitious hopes—started up, dressed hurriedly, and + joining the messenger below, repaired to the Convent. In the Court of the + Capitol, and by the Staircase of the Lion, was already heard the noise of + the workmen, and looking back, Villani beheld the scaffold, hung with + black—sleeping cloudlike in the grey light of dawn—at the same + time, the bell of the Capitol tolled heavily. A pang shot athwart him. He + hurried on;—despite the immature earliness of the hour, he met + groups of either sex, hastening along the streets to witness the execution + of the redoubted Captain of the Grand Company. The Convent of the + Augustines was at the farthest extremity of that city, even then so + extensive, and the red light upon the hilltops already heralded the rising + sun, ere the young man reached the venerable porch. His name obtained him + instant admittance. + </p> + <p> + “Heaven grant,” said an old Nun, who conducted him through a long and + winding passage, “that thou mayst bring comfort to the sick sister: she + has pined for thee grievously since matins.” + </p> + <p> + In a cell set apart for the reception of visitors (from the outward + world), to such of the Sisterhood as received the necessary dispensation, + sate the aged Nun. Angelo had only seen her once since his return to Rome, + and since then disease had made rapid havoc on her form and features. And + now, in her shroudlike garments and attenuated frame, she seemed by the + morning light as a spectre whom day had surprised above the earth. She + approached the youth, however, with a motion more elastic and rapid than + seemed possible to her worn and ghastly form. “Thou art come,” she said. + “Well, well! This morning after matins, my confessor, an Augustine, who + alone knows the secrets of my life, took me aside, and told me that Walter + de Montreal had been seized by the Senator—that he was adjudged to + die, and that one of the Augustine brotherhood had been sent for to attend + his last hours—is it so?” + </p> + <p> + “Thou wert told aright,” said Angelo, wonderingly. “The man at whose name + thou wert wont to shudder—against whom thou hast so often warned me—will + die at sunrise.” + </p> + <p> + “So soon!—so soon!—Oh, Mother of Mercy!—fly! thou art + about the person of the Senator, thou hast high favour with him; fly! down + on thy knees, and as thou hopest for God’s grace, rise not till thou hast + won the Provencal’s life.” + </p> + <p> + “She raves,” muttered Angelo, with white lips. + </p> + <p> + “I do not rave,—boy!” screeched the Sister, wildly, “know that my + daughter was his leman. He disgraced our house,—a house haughtier + than his own. Sinner that I was, I vowed revenge. His boy—they had + only one!—was brought up in a robber’s camp;—a life of + bloodshed—a death of doom—a futurity of hell—were before + him. I plucked the child from such a fate—I bore him away—I + told the father he was dead—I placed him in the path to honourable + fortunes. May my sin be forgiven me! Angelo Villani, thou art that child;—Walter + de Montreal is thy father. But now, trembling on the verge of death, I + shudder at the vindictive thoughts I once nourished. Perhaps—” + </p> + <p> + “Sinner and accursed!” interrupted Villani, with a loud shout:—“sinner + and accursed thou art indeed! Know that it was I who betrayed thy + daughter’s lover!—by the son’s treason dies the father!” + </p> + <p> + Not a moment more did he tarry: he waited not to witness the effect his + words produced. As one frantic—as one whom a fiend possesses or + pursues—he rushed from the Convent—he flew through the + desolate streets. The death-bell came, first indistinct, then loud, upon + his ear. Every sound seemed to him like the curse of God; on—on—he + passed the more deserted quarter—crowds swept before him—he + was mingled with the living stream, delayed, pushed back—thousands + on thousands around, before him. Breathless, gasping, he still pressed on—he + forced his way—he heard not—he saw not—all was like a + dream. Up burst the sun over the distant hills!—the bell ceased! + From right to left he pushed aside the crowd—his strength was as a + giant’s. He neared the fatal spot. A dead hush lay like a heavy air over + the multitude. He heard a voice, as he pressed along, deep and clear—it + was the voice of his father!—it ceased—the audience breathed + heavily—they murmured—they swayed to and fro. On, on, went + Angelo Villani. The guards of the Senator stopped his way;—he dashed + aside their pikes—he eluded their grasp—he pierced the armed + barrier—he stood on the Place of the Capitol. “Hold, hold!” he would + have cried—but horror struck him dumb. He beheld the gleaming axe—he + saw the bended neck. Ere another breath passed his lips, a ghastly and + trunkless face was raised on high—Walter de Montreal was no more! + </p> + <p> + Villani saw—swooned not—shrunk not—breathed not!—but + he turned his eyes from that lifted head, dropping gore, to the balcony, + in which, according to custom, sate, in solemn pomp, the Senator of Rome—and + the face of that young man was as the face of a demon! + </p> + <p> + “Ha!” said he, muttering to himself, and recalling the words of Rienzi + seven years before—“Blessed art thou who hast no blood of kindred to + avenge!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0066" id="link2HCH0066"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 10.VI. The Suspense. + </h2> + <p> + Walter de Montreal was buried in the church of St. Maria dell’ Araceli. + But the “evil that he did lived after him!” Although the vulgar had, until + his apprehension, murmured against Rienzi for allowing so notorious a + freebooter to be at large, he was scarcely dead ere they compassionated + the object of their terror. With that singular species of piety which + Montreal had always cultivated, as if a decorous and natural part of the + character of a warrior, no sooner was his sentence fixed, than he had + surrendered himself to the devout preparation for death. With the + Augustine Friar he consumed the brief remainder of the night in prayer and + confession, comforted his brothers, and passed to the scaffold with the + step of a hero and the self-acquittal of a martyr. In the wonderful + delusions of the human heart, far from feeling remorse at a life of + professional rapine and slaughter, almost the last words of the brave + warrior were in proud commendation of his own deeds. “Be valiant like me,” + he said to his brothers, “and remember that ye are now the heirs to the + Humbler of Apulia, Tuscany, and La Marca.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + (Pregovi che vi amiate e siate valorosi al mondo, come fui + io, che mi feci fare obbedienza a la Puglia, Toscana, e a La + Marca.”—“Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. ii. cap. 22. “I pray + you love one another, and be valorous as was I, who made + Apulia, Tuscany and La Marca own obedience to me.”—“Life of + Cola di Rienzi”.) +</pre> + <p> + This confidence in himself continued at the scaffold. “I die,” he said, + addressing the Romans—“I die contented, since my bones shall rest in + the Holy City of St. Peter and St. Paul, and the Soldier of Christ shall + have the burial-place of the Apostles. But I die unjustly. My wealth is my + crime—the poverty of your state my accuser. Senator of Rome, thou + mayst envy my last hour—men like Walter de Montreal perish not + unavenged.” So saying, he turned to the East, murmured a brief prayer, + knelt down deliberately, and said as to himself, “Rome guard my ashes!—Earth + my memory—Fate my revenge;—and, now, Heaven receive my soul!—Strike!” + At the first blow, the head was severed from the body. + </p> + <p> + His treason but imperfectly known, the fear of him forgotten, all that + remained of the recollection of Walter de Montreal (The military renown + and bold exploits of Montreal are acknowledged by all the Italian + authorities. One of them declares that since the time of Caesar, Italy had + never known so great a Captain. The biographer of Rienzi, forgetting all + the offences of the splendid and knightly robber, seems to feel only + commiseration for his fate. He informs us, moreover, that at Tivoli one of + his servants (perhaps our friend, Rodolf of Saxony), hearing his death, + died of grief the following day.) in Rome, was admiration for his heroism, + and compassion for his end. The fate of Pandulfo di Guido, which followed + some days afterwards, excited a yet deeper, though more quiet, sentiment, + against the Senator. “He was once Rienzi’s friend!” said one man; “He was + an honest, upright citizen!” muttered another; “He was an advocate of the + people!” growled Cecco del Vecchio. But the Senator had wound himself up + to a resolve to be inflexibly just, and to regard every peril to Rome as + became a Roman. Rienzi remembered that he had never confided but he had + been betrayed; he had never forgiven but to sharpen enmity. He was amidst + a ferocious people, uncertain friends, wily enemies; and misplaced mercy + would be but a premium to conspiracy. Yet the struggle he underwent was + visible in the hysterical emotions he betrayed. He now wept bitterly, now + laughed wildly. “Can I never again have the luxury to forgive?” said he. + The coarse spectators of that passion deemed it,—some imbecility, + some hypocrisy. But the execution produced the momentary effect intended. + All sedition ceased, terror crept throughout the city, order and peace + rose to the surface; but beneath, in the strong expression of a + contemporaneous writer, “Lo mormorito quetamente suonava.” (“The murmur + quietly sounded.”) + </p> + <p> + On examining dispassionately the conduct of Rienzi at this awful period of + his life, it is scarcely possible to condemn it of a single error in point + of policy. Cured of his faults, he exhibited no unnecessary ostentation—he + indulged in no exhibitions of intoxicated pride—that gorgeous + imagination rather than vanity, which had led the Tribune into spectacle + and pomp, was now lulled to rest, by the sober memory of grave + vicissitudes, and the stern calmness of a maturer intellect. Frugal, + provident, watchful, self-collected, ‘never was seen,’ observes no partial + witness, ‘so extraordinary a man.’ (“Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. ii. c. + 23.) ‘In him was concentrated every thought for every want of Rome. + Indefatigably occupied, he inspected, ordained, regulated all things; in + the city, in the army, for peace, or for war. But he was feebly supported, + and those he employed were lukewarm and lethargic.’ Still his arms + prospered. Place after place, fortress after fortress, yielded to the + Lieutenant of the Senator: and the cession of Palestrina itself was hourly + expected. His art and address were always strikingly exhibited in + difficult situations, and the reader cannot fail to have noticed how + conspicuously they were displayed in delivering himself from the iron + tutelage of his foreign mercenaries. Montreal executed, his brothers + imprisoned, (though their lives were spared,) a fear that induced respect + was stricken into the breasts of those bandit soldiers. Removed from Rome, + and, under Annibaldi, engaged against the Barons, constant action and + constant success, withheld those necessary fiends from falling on their + Master; while Rienzi, willing to yield to the natural antipathy of the + Romans, thus kept the Northmen from all contact with the city; and as he + boasted, was the only chief in Italy who reigned in his palace guarded + only by his citizens. + </p> + <p> + Despite his perilous situation—despite his suspicions, and his + fears, no wanton cruelty stained his stern justice—Montreal and + Pandulfo di Guido were the only state victims he demanded. If, according + to the dark Machiavelism of Italian wisdom, the death of those enemies was + impolitic, it was not in the act, but the mode of doing it. A prince of + Bologna, or of Milan would have avoided the sympathy excited by the + scaffold, and the drug or the dagger would have been the safer substitute + for the axe. But with all his faults, real and imputed, no single act of + that foul and murtherous policy, which made the science of the more + fortunate princes of Italy, ever advanced the ambition or promoted the + security of the Last of the Roman Tribunes. Whatever his errors, he lived + and died as became a man, who dreamed the vain but glorious dream, that in + a corrupt and dastard populace he could revive the genius of the old + Republic. + </p> + <p> + Of all who attended on the Senator, the most assiduous and the most + honoured was still Angelo Villani. Promoted to a high civil station, + Rienzi felt it as a return of youth, to find one person entitled to his + gratitude;—he loved and confided in the youth as a son. Villani was + never absent from his side, except in intercourse with the various popular + leaders in the various quarters of the city; and in this intercourse his + zeal was indefatigable—it seemed even to prey upon his health; and + Rienzi chid him fondly, whenever starting from his own reveries, he beheld + the abstracted eye and the livid paleness which had succeeded the sparkle + and bloom of youth. + </p> + <p> + Such chiding the young man answered only by the same unvarying words. + </p> + <p> + “Senator, I have a great trust to fulfil;”—and at these words he + smiled. + </p> + <p> + One day Villani, while with the Senator, said rather abruptly, “Do you + remember, my Lord, that before Viterbo, I acquitted myself so in arms, + that even the Cardinal d’Albornoz was pleased to notice me?” + </p> + <p> + “I remember your valour well, Angelo; but why the question?” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord, Bellini, the Captain of the Guard of the Capitol is dangerously + ill.” + </p> + <p> + “I know it.” + </p> + <p> + “Whom can my Lord trust at the post?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the Lieutenant.” + </p> + <p> + “What!—a soldier that has served under the Orsini!” + </p> + <p> + “True. Well! There is Tommaso Filangieri.” + </p> + <p> + “An excellent man; but is he not kin by blood to Pandulfo di Guido?” + </p> + <p> + “Ay—is he so? It must be thought of. Hast thou any friend to name?” + said the Senator, smiling, “Methinks thy cavils point that way.” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord,” replied Villani, colouring; “I am too young perhaps; but the + post is one that demands fidelity more than it does years. Shall I own it?—My + tastes are rather to serve thee with my sword than with my pen.” + </p> + <p> + “Wilt thou, indeed, accept the office? It is of less dignity and emolument + than the one you hold; and you are full young to lead these stubborn + spirits.” + </p> + <p> + “Senator, I led taller men than they are to the assault at Viterbo. But, + be it as seems best to your superior wisdom. Whatever you do, I pray you + to be cautious. If you select a traitor to the command of the Capitol + Guard!—I tremble at the thought!” + </p> + <p> + “By my faith, thou dost turn pale at it, dear boy; thy affection is a + sweet drop in a bitter draught. Whom can I choose better than thee?—thou + shalt have the post, at least during Bellini’s illness. I will attend to + it today. The business, too, will less fatigue thy young mind than that + which now employs thee. Thou art over-laboured in our cause.” + </p> + <p> + “Senator, I can but repeat my usual answer—I have a great trust to + fulfil!” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0067" id="link2HCH0067"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 10.VII. The Tax. + </h2> + <p> + These formidable conspiracies quelled, the Barons nearly subdued, and + three parts of the Papal territory reunited to Rome, Rienzi now deemed he + might safely execute one of his favourite projects for the preservation of + the liberties of his native city; and this was to raise and organize in + each quarter of Rome a Roman Legion. Armed in the defence of their own + institutions, he thus trusted to establish amongst her own citizens the + only soldiery requisite for Rome. + </p> + <p> + But so base were the tools with which this great man was condemned to work + out his noble schemes, that none could be found to serve their own + country, without a pay equal to that demanded by foreign hirelings. With + the insolence so peculiar to a race that has once been great, each Roman + said, “Am I not better than a German?—Pay me, then, accordingly.” + </p> + <p> + The Senator smothered his disgust—he had learned at last to know + that the age of the Catos was no more. From a daring enthusiast, + experience had converted him into a practical statesman. The Legions were + necessary to Rome—they were formed—gallant their appearance + and faultless their caparisons. How were they to be paid? There was but + one means to maintain Rome—Rome must be taxed. A gabelle was put + upon wine and salt. + </p> + <p> + The Proclamation ran thus:— + </p> + <p> + “Romans! raised to the rank of your Senator, my whole thought has been for + your liberties and welfare; already treason defeated in the City, our + banners triumphant without, attest the favour with which the Deity regards + men who seek to unite liberty with law. Let us set an example to Italy and + the World! Let us prove that the Roman sword can guard the Roman Forum! In + each Rione of the City is provided a Legion of the Citizens, collected + from the traders and artisans of the town; they allege that they cannot + leave their callings without remuneration. Your senator calls upon you + willingly to assist in your own defence. He has given you liberty; he has + restored to you peace: your oppressors are scattered over the earth. He + asks you now to preserve the treasures you have gained. To be free, you + must sacrifice something; for freedom, what sacrifice too great? Confident + of your support, I at length, for the first time, exert the right + entrusted to me by office—and for Rome’s salvation I tax the + Romans!” + </p> + <p> + Then followed the announcement of the gabelle. + </p> + <p> + The Proclamation was set up in the public thoroughfares. Round one of the + placards a crowd assembled. Their gestures were vehement and unguarded—their + eyes sparkled—they conversed low, but eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “He dares to tax us, then! Why, the Barons or the Pope could not do more + than that!” + </p> + <p> + “Shame! shame!” cried a gaunt female; “we, who were his friends! How are + our little ones to get bread?” + </p> + <p> + “He should have seized the Pope’s money!” quoth an honest wine-vender. + </p> + <p> + “Ah! Pandulfo di Guido would have maintained an army at his own cost. He + was a rich man. What insolence in the innkeeper’s son to be a Senator!” + </p> + <p> + “We are not Romans if we suffer this!” said a deserter from Palestrina. + </p> + <p> + “Fellow-citizens!” exclaimed gruffly a tall man, who had hitherto been + making a clerk read to him the particulars of the tax imposed, and whose + heavy brain at length understood that wine was to be made dearer—“Fellow-citizens, + we must have a new revolution! This is indeed gratitude! What have we + benefited by restoring this man! Are we always to be ground to the dust? + To pay—pay—pay! Is that all we are fit for?” + </p> + <p> + “Hark to Cecco del Vecchio!” + </p> + <p> + “No, no; not now,” growled the smith. “Tonight the artificers have a + special meeting. We’ll see—we’ll see!” + </p> + <p> + A young man, muffled in a cloak, who had not been before observed, touched + the smith. + </p> + <p> + “Whoever storms the Capitol the day after tomorrow at the dawn,” he + whispered, “shall find the guards absent!” + </p> + <p> + He was gone before the smith could look round. + </p> + <p> + The same night Rienzi, retiring to rest, said to Angelo Villani—“A + bold but necessary measure this of mine! How do the people take it?” + </p> + <p> + “They murmur a little, but seem to recognise the necessity. Cecco del + Vecchio was the loudest grumbler, but is now the loudest approver.” + </p> + <p> + “The man is rough; he once deserted me;—but then that fatal + excommunication! He and the Romans learned a bitter lesson in that + desertion, and experience has, I trust, taught them to be honest. Well, if + this tax be raised quietly, in two years Rome will be again the Queen of + Italy;—her army manned—her Republic formed; and then—then—” + </p> + <p> + “Then what, Senator?” + </p> + <p> + “Why then, my Angelo, Cola di Rienzi may die in peace! There is a want + which a profound experience of power and pomp brings at last to us—a + want gnawing as that of hunger, wearing as that of sleep!—my Angelo, + it is the want to die!” + </p> + <p> + “My Lord, I would give this right hand,” cried Villani, earnestly, “to + hear you say you were attached to life!” + </p> + <p> + “You are a good youth, Angelo!” said Rienzi, as he passed to Nina’s + chamber; and in her smile and wistful tenderness, forgot for a while—that + he was a great man! + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0068" id="link2HCH0068"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter 10.VIII. The Threshold of the Event. + </h2> + <p> + The next morning the Senator of Rome held high Court in the Capitol. From + Florence, from Padua, from Pisa, even from Milan, (the dominion of the + Visconti,) from Genoa, from Naples,—came Ambassadors to welcome his + return, or to thank him for having freed Italy from the freebooter De + Montreal. Venice alone, who held in her pay the Grand Company, stood + aloof. Never had Rienzi seemed more prosperous and more powerful, and + never had he exhibited a more easy and cheerful majesty of demeanour. + </p> + <p> + Scarce was the audience over, when a messenger arrived from Palestrina. + The town had surrendered, the Colonna had departed, and the standard of + the Senator waved from the walls of the last hold of the rebellious + Barons. Rome might now at length consider herself free, and not a foe + seemed left to menace the repose of Rienzi. + </p> + <p> + The Court dissolved. The Senator, elated and joyous, repaired towards his + private apartments, previous to the banquet given to the Ambassadors. + Villani met him with his wonted sombre aspect. + </p> + <p> + “No sadness today, my Angelo,” said the Senator, gaily; “Palestrina is + ours!” + </p> + <p> + “I am glad to hear such news, and to see my Lord of so fair a mien,” + answered Angelo. “Does he not now desire life?” + </p> + <p> + “Till Roman virtue revives, perhaps—yes! But thus are we fools of + Fortune;—today glad—tomorrow dejected!” + </p> + <p> + “Tomorrow,” repeated Villani, mechanically: “Ay—tomorrow perhaps + dejected.” + </p> + <p> + “Thou playest with my words, boy,” said Rienzi, half angrily, as he turned + away. + </p> + <p> + But Villani heeded not the displeasure of his Lord. + </p> + <p> + The banquet was thronged and brilliant; and Rienzi that day, without an + effort, played the courteous host. + </p> + <p> + Milanese, Paduan, Pisan, Neapolitan, vied with each other in attracting + the smiles of the potent Senator. Prodigal were their compliments—lavish + their promises of support. No monarch in Italy seemed more securely + throned. + </p> + <p> + The banquet was over (as usual on state occasions) at an early hour; and + Rienzi, somewhat heated with wine, strolled forth alone from the Capitol. + Bending his solitary steps towards the Palatine, he saw the pale and + veil-like mists that succeed the sunset, gather over the wild grass which + waves above the Palace of the Caesars. On a mound of ruins (column and + arch overthrown) he stood, with folded arms, musing and intent. In the + distance lay the melancholy tombs of the Campagna, and the circling hills, + crested with the purple hues soon to melt beneath the starlight. Not a + breeze stirred the dark cypress and unwaving pine. There was something + awful in the stillness of the skies, hushing the desolate grandeur of the + earth below. Many and mingled were the thoughts that swept over Rienzi’s + breast: memory was busy at his heart. How often, in his youth, had he + trodden the same spot!—what visions had he nursed!—what hopes + conceived! In the turbulence of his later life, Memory had long slept; but + at that hour, she re-asserted her shadowy reign with a despotism that + seemed prophetic. He was wandering—a boy, with his young brother, + hand in hand, by the riverside at eve: anon he saw a pale face and gory + side, and once more uttered his imprecations of revenge! His first + successes, his virgin triumphs, his secret love, his fame, his power, his + reverses, the hermitage of Maiella, the dungeon of Avignon, the triumphal + return to Rome,—all swept across his breast with a distinctness as + if he were living those scenes again!—and now!—he shrunk from + the present, and descended the hill. The moon, already risen, shed her + light over the Forum, as he passed through its mingled ruins. By the + Temple of Jupiter, two figures suddenly emerged; the moonlight fell upon + their faces, and Rienzi recognised Cecco del Vecchio and Angelo Villani. + They saw him not; but, eagerly conversing, disappeared by the Arch of + Trajan. + </p> + <p> + “Villani! ever active in my service!” thought the Senator; “methinks this + morning I spoke to him harshly—it was churlish in me!” + </p> + <p> + He re-entered the Place of the Capitol—he stood by the staircase of + the Lion; there was a red stain upon the pavement, unobliterated since + Montreal’s execution, and the Senator drew himself aside with an inward + shudder. Was it the ghastly and spectral light of the Moon, or did the + face of that old Egyptian Monster wear an aspect that was as of life? The + stony eyeballs seemed bent upon him with a malignant scowl; and as he + passed on, and looked behind, they appeared almost preternaturally to + follow his steps. A chill, he knew not why, sunk into his heart. He + hastened to regain his palace. The sentinels made way for him. + </p> + <p> + “Senator,” said one of them, doubtingly, “Messere Angelo Villani is our + new captain—we are to obey his orders?” + </p> + <p> + “Assuredly,” returned the Senator, passing on. The man lingered uneasily, + as if he would have spoken, but Rienzi observed it not. Seeking his + chamber, he found Nina and Irene waiting for him. His heart yearned to his + wife. Care and toil had of late driven her from his thoughts, and he felt + it remorsefully, as he gazed upon her noble face, softened by the + solicitude of untiring and anxious love. + </p> + <p> + “Sweetest,” said he, winding his arms around her tenderly; “thy lips never + chide me, but thine eyes sometimes do! We have been apart too long. + Brighter days dawn upon us, when I shall have leisure to thank thee for + all thy care. And you, my fair sister, you smile on me!—ah, you have + heard that your lover, ere this, is released by the cession of Palestrina, + and tomorrow’s sun will see him at your feet. Despite all the cares of the + day, I remembered thee, my Irene, and sent a messenger to bring back the + blush to that pale cheek. Come, come, we shall be happy again!” And with + that domestic fondness common to him, when harsher thoughts permitted, he + sate himself beside the two persons dearest to his hearth and heart. + </p> + <p> + “So happy—if we could have many hours like this!” murmured Nina, + sinking on his breast. “Yet sometimes I wish—” + </p> + <p> + “And I too,” interrupted Rienzi; “for I read thy woman’s thought—I + too sometimes wish that fate had placed us in the lowlier valleys of life! + But it may come yet! Irene wedded to Adrian—Rome married to Liberty—and + then, Nina, methinks you and I would find some quiet hermitage, and talk + over old gauds and triumphs, as of a summer’s dream. Beautiful, kiss me! + Couldst thou resign these pomps?” + </p> + <p> + “For a desert with thee, Cola!” + </p> + <p> + “Let me reflect,” resumed Rienzi; “is not today the seventh of October? + Yes! on the seventh, be it noted, my foes yielded to my power! Seven! my + fated number, whether ominous of good or evil! Seven months did I reign as + Tribune—seven (There was the lapse of one year between the release + of Rienzi from Avignon, and his triumphal return to Rome: a year chiefly + spent in the campaign of Albornoz.) years was I absent as an exile; + tomorrow, that sees me without an enemy, completes my seventh week of + return!” + </p> + <p> + “And seven was the number of the crowns the Roman Convents and the Roman + Council awarded thee, after the ceremony which gave thee the knighthood of + the Santo Spirito!” (This superstition had an excuse in strange historical + coincidences; and the number seven was indeed to Rienzi what the 3rd of + September was to Cromwell. The ceremony of the seven crowns which he + received after his knighthood, on the nature of which ridiculous ignorance + has been shown by many recent writers, was, in fact, principally a + religious and typical donation, (symbolical of the gifts of the Holy + Spirit,) conferred by the heads of convents—and that part of the + ceremony which was political, was republican, not regal.) said Nina, + adding, with woman’s tender wit, “the brightest association of all!” + </p> + <p> + “Follies seem these thoughts to others, and to philosophy, in truth, they + are so,” said Rienzi; “but all my life long, omen and type and shadow have + linked themselves to action and event: and the atmosphere of other men + hath not been mine. Life itself a riddle, why should riddles amaze us? The + Future!—what mystery in the very word! Had we lived all through the + Past, since Time was, our profoundest experience of a thousand ages could + not give us a guess of the events that wait the very moment we are about + to enter! Thus deserted by Reason, what wonder that we recur to the + Imagination, on which, by dream and symbol, God sometimes paints the + likeness of things to come? Who can endure to leave the Future all + unguessed, and sit tamely down to groan under the fardel of the Present? + No, no! that which the foolish-wise call Fanaticism, belongs to the same + part of us as Hope. Each but carries us onward—from a barren strand + to a glorious, if unbounded sea. Each is the yearning for the GREAT + BEYOND, which attests our immortality. Each has its visions and chimeras—some + false, but some true! Verily, a man who becomes great is often but made so + by a kind of sorcery in his own soul—a Pythia which prophesies that + he shall be great—and so renders the life one effort to fulfil the + warning! Is this folly?—it were so, if all things stopped at the + grave! But perhaps the very sharpening, and exercising, and elevating the + faculties here—though but for a bootless end on earth—may be + designed to fit the soul, thus quickened and ennobled, to some high + destiny beyond the earth! Who can tell? not I!—Let us pray!” + </p> + <p> + While the Senator was thus employed, Rome in her various quarters + presented less holy and quiet scenes. + </p> + <p> + In the fortress of the Orsini lights flitted to and fro, through the + gratings of the great court. Angelo Villani might be seen stealing from + the postern-gate. Another hour, and the Moon was high in heaven; toward + the ruins of the Colosseum, men, whose dress bespoke them of the lowest + rank, were seen creeping from lanes and alleys, two by two; from these + ruins glided again the form of the son of Montreal. Later yet—the + Moon is sinking—a grey light breaking in the East—and the + gates of Rome, by St. John of Lateran, are open! Villani is conversing + with the sentries! The Moon has set—the mountains are dim with a + mournful and chilling haze—Villani is before the palace of the + Capitol—the only soldier there! Where are the Roman legions that + were to guard alike the freedom and the deliverer of Rome? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0069" id="link2HCH0069"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Chapter The Last. The Close of the Chase. + </h2> + <p> + It was the morning of the 8th of October, 1354. Rienzi, who rose betimes, + stirred restlessly in his bed. “It is yet early,” he said to Nina, whose + soft arm was round his neck; “none of my people seem to be astir. Howbeit, + my day begins before theirs.” + </p> + <p> + “Rest yet, my Cola; you want sleep.” + </p> + <p> + “No; I feel feverish, and this old pain in the side torments me. I have + letters to write.” + </p> + <p> + “Let me be your secretary, dearest,” said Nina. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi smiled affectionately as he rose; he repaired to his closet + adjoining his sleeping apartment, and used the bath, as was his wont. Then + dressing himself, he returned to Nina, who, already loosely robed, sate by + the writing-table, ready for her office of love. + </p> + <p> + “How still are all things!” said Rienzi. “What a cool and delicious + prelude, in these early hours, to the toilsome day.” + </p> + <p> + Leaning over his wife, he then dictated different letters, interrupting + the task at times by such observations as crossed his mind. + </p> + <p> + “So, now to Annibaldi! By the way, young Adrian should join us today; how + I rejoice for Irene’s sake!” + </p> + <p> + “Dear sister—yes! she loves,—if any, Cola, can so love,—as + we do.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, but to your task, my fair scribe. Ha! what noise is that? I hear an + armed step—the stairs creak—some one shouts my name.” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi flew to his sword! the door was thrown rudely open, and a figure in + complete armour appeared within the chamber. + </p> + <p> + “How! what means this?” said Rienzi, standing before Nina, with his drawn + sword. + </p> + <p> + The intruder lifted his visor—it was Adrian Colonna. + </p> + <p> + “Fly, Rienzi!—hasten, Signora! Thank Heaven, I can save ye yet! + Myself and train released by the capture of Palestrina, the pain of my + wound detained me last night at Tivoli. The town was filled with armed men—not + thine, Senator. I heard rumours that alarmed me. I resolved to proceed + onward—I reached Rome, the gates of the city were wide open!” + </p> + <p> + “How!” + </p> + <p> + “Your guard gone. Presently I came upon a band of the retainers of the + Savelli. My insignia, as a Colonna, misled them. I learned that this very + hour some of your enemies are within the city, the rest are on their march—the + people themselves arm against you. In the obscurer streets I passed + through, the mob were already forming. They took me for thy foe, and + shouted. I came hither—thy sentries have vanished. The private door + below is unbarred and open. Not a soul seems left in thy palace. Haste—fly—save + thyself!—Where is Irene?” + </p> + <p> + “The Capitol deserted!—impossible!” cried Rienzi. He strode across + the chambers to the ante-room, where his night-guard usually waited—it + was empty! He passed hastily to Villani’s room—it was untenanted! He + would have passed farther, but the doors were secured without. It was + evident that all egress had been cut off, save by the private door below,—and + that had been left open to admit his murtherers! + </p> + <p> + He returned to his room—Nina had already gone to rouse and prepare + Irene, whose chamber was on the other side, within one of their own. + </p> + <p> + “Quick, Senator!” said Adrian. “Methinks there is yet time. We must make + across to the Tiber. I have stationed my faithful squires and Northmen + there. A boat waits us.” + </p> + <p> + “Hark!” interrupted Rienzi, whose senses had of late been preternaturally + quickened. “I hear a distant shout—a familiar shout, ‘Viva ‘l + Popolo!’ Why, so say I! These must be friends.” + </p> + <p> + “Deceive not thyself; thou hast scarce a friend at Rome.” + </p> + <p> + “Hist!” said Rienzi, in a whisper; “save Nina—save Irene. I cannot + accompany thee.” + </p> + <p> + “Art thou mad?” + </p> + <p> + “No! but fearless. Besides, did I accompany, I might but destroy you all. + Were I found with you, you would be massacred with me. Without me ye are + safe. Yes, even the Senator’s wife and sister have provoked no revenge. + Save them, noble Colonna! Cola di Rienzi puts his trust in God alone!” + </p> + <p> + By this time Nina had returned; Irene with her. Afar was heard the tramp—steady—slow—gathering—of + the fatal multitude. + </p> + <p> + “Now, Cola,” said Nina, with a bold and cheerful air, and she took her + husband’s arm, while Adrian had already found his charge in Irene. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, now, Nina!” said Rienzi; “at length we part! If this is my last hour—in + my last hour I pray God to bless and shield thee! for verily, thou hast + been my exceeding solace—provident as a parent, tender as a child, + the smile of my hearth, the—the—” + </p> + <p> + Rienzi was almost unmanned. Emotions, deep, conflicting, unspeakably fond + and grateful, literally choked his speech. + </p> + <p> + “What!” cried Nina, clinging to his breast, and parting her hair from her + eyes, as she sought his averted face. “Part!—never! This is my place—all + Rome shall not tear me from it!” + </p> + <p> + Adrian, in despair, seized her hand, and attempted to drag her thence. + </p> + <p> + “Touch me not, sir!” said Nina, waving her arm with angry majesty, while + her eyes sparkled as a lioness, whom the huntsmen would sever from her + young. “I am the wife of Cola di Rienzi, the Great Senator of Rome, and by + his side will I live and die!” + </p> + <p> + “Take her hence: quick!—quick! I hear the crowd advancing.” + </p> + <p> + Irene tore herself from Adrian, and fell at the feet of Rienzi—she + clasped his knees. + </p> + <p> + “Come, my brother, come! Why lose these precious moments? Rome forbids you + to cast away a life in which her very self is bound up.” + </p> + <p> + “Right, Irene; Rome is bound up with me, and we will rise or fall + together!—no more!” + </p> + <p> + “You destroy us all!” said Adrian, with generous and impatient warmth. “A + few minutes more, and we are lost. Rash man! it is not to fall by an + infuriate mob that you have been preserved from so many dangers.” + </p> + <p> + “I believe it,” said the Senator, as his tall form seemed to dilate as + with the greatness of his own soul. “I shall triumph yet! Never shall mine + enemies—never shall posterity say that a second time Rienzi + abandoned Rome! Hark! ‘Viva ‘l Popolo!’ still the cry of ‘THE PEOPLE.’ + That cry scares none but tyrants! I shall triumph and survive!” + </p> + <p> + “And I with thee!” said Nina, firmly. Rienzi paused a moment, gazed on his + wife, passionately clasped her to his heart, kissed her again and again, + and then said, “Nina, I command thee,—Go!” + </p> + <p> + “Never!” + </p> + <p> + He paused. Irene’s face, drowned in tears, met his eyes. + </p> + <p> + “We will all perish with you,” said his sister; “you only, Adrian, you + leave us!” + </p> + <p> + “Be it so,” said the Knight, sadly; “we will all remain,” and he desisted + at once from further effort. + </p> + <p> + There was a dead but short pause, broken but by a convulsive sob from + Irene. The tramp of the raging thousands sounded fearfully distinct. + Rienzi seemed lost in thought—then lifting his head, he said, + calmly, “ye have triumphed—I join ye—I but collect these + papers, and follow you. Quick, Adrian—save them!” and he pointed + meaningly to Nina. + </p> + <p> + Waiting no other hint, the young Colonna seized Nina in his strong grasp—with + his left hand he supported Irene, who with terror and excitement was + almost insensible. Rienzi relieved him of the lighter load—he took + his sister in his arms, and descended the winding stairs. Nina remained + passive—she heard her husband’s step behind, it was enough for her—she + but turned once to thank him with her eyes. A tall Northman clad in armour + stood at the open door. Rienzi placed Irene, now perfectly lifeless, in + the soldier’s arms, and kissed her pale cheek in silence. + </p> + <p> + “Quick, my Lord,” said the Northman, “on all sides they come!” So saying, + he bounded down the descent with his burthen. Adrian followed with Nina; + the Senator paused one moment, turned back, and was in his room ere Adrian + was aware that he had vanished. + </p> + <p> + Hastily he drew the coverlid from his bed, fastened it to the casement + bars, and by its aid dropped (at a distance of several feet) into the + balcony below. “I will not die like a rat,” said he, “in the trap they + have set for me! The whole crowd shall, at least, see and hear me.” + </p> + <p> + This was the work of a moment. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile, Nina had scarcely proceeded six paces, before she discovered + that she was alone with Adrian. + </p> + <p> + “Ha! Cola!” she cried, “where is he? he has gone!” + </p> + <p> + “Take heart, Lady, he has returned but for some secret papers he has + forgotten. He will follow us anon.” + </p> + <p> + “Let us wait, then.” + </p> + <p> + “Lady,” said Adrian, grinding his teeth, “hear you not the crowd?—on, + on!” and he flew with a swifter step. Nina struggled in his grasp—Love + gave her the strength of despair. With a wild laugh she broke from him. + She flew back—the door was closed—but unbarred—her + trembling hands lingered a moment round the spring. She opened it, drew + the heavy bolt across the panels, and frustrated all attempt from Adrian + to regain her. She was on the stairs,—she was in the room. Rienzi + was gone! She fled, shrieking his name, through the State Chambers—all + was desolate. She found the doors opening on the various passages that + admitted to the rooms below barred without. Breathless and gasping, she + returned to the chamber. She hurried to the casement—she perceived + the method by which he had descended below—her brave heart told her + of his brave design;—she saw they were separated,—“But the + same roof holds us,” she cried, joyously, “and our fate shall be the + same!” With that thought she sank in mute patience on the floor. + </p> + <p> + Forming the generous resolve not to abandon the faithful and devoted pair + without another effort, Adrian had followed Nina, but too late—the + door was closed against his efforts. The crowd marched on—he heard + their cry change on a sudden—it was no longer “LIVE THE PEOPLE!” but + “DEATH TO THE TRAITOR!” His attendant had already disappeared, and waking + now only to the danger of Irene, the Colonna in bitter grief turned away, + lightly sped down the descent, and hastened to the riverside, where the + boat and his band awaited him. + </p> + <p> + The balcony on which Rienzi had alighted was that from which he had been + accustomed to address the people—it communicated with a vast hall + used on solemn occasions for State festivals—and on either side were + square projecting towers, whose grated casements looked into the balcony. + One of these towers was devoted to the armory, the other contained the + prison of Brettone, the brother of Montreal. Beyond the latter tower was + the general prison of the Capitol. For then the prison and the palace were + in awful neighbourhood! + </p> + <p> + The windows of the Hall were yet open—and Rienzi passed into it from + the balcony—the witness of the yesterday’s banquet was still there—the + wine, yet undried, crimsoned the floor, and goblets of gold and silver + shone from the recesses. He proceeded at once to the armory, and selected + from the various suits that which he himself had worn when, nearly eight + years ago, he had chased the Barons from the gates of Rome. He arrayed + himself in the mail, leaving only his head uncovered; and then taking, in + his right hand, from the wall, the great Gonfalon of Rome, returned once + more to the hall. Not a man encountered him. In that vast building, save + the prisoners, and the faithful Nina, whose presence he knew not of—the + Senator was alone. + </p> + <p> + On they came, no longer in measured order, as stream after stream—from + lane, from alley, from palace and from hovel—the raging sea received + new additions. On they came—their passions excited by their numbers—women + and men, children and malignant age—in all the awful array of + aroused, released, unresisted physical strength and brutal wrath; “Death + to the traitor—death to the tyrant—death to him who has taxed + the people!”—“Mora l’ traditore che ha fatta la gabella!—Mora!” + Such was the cry of the people—such the crime of the Senator! They + broke over the low palisades of the Capitol—they filled with one + sudden rush the vast space;—a moment before so desolate,—now + swarming with human beings athirst for blood! + </p> + <p> + Suddenly came a dead silence, and on the balcony above stood Rienzi—his + head was bared and the morning sun shone over that lordly brow, and the + hair grown grey before its time, in the service of that maddening + multitude. Pale and erect he stood—neither fear, nor anger, nor + menace—but deep grief and high resolve—upon his features! A + momentary shame—a momentary awe seized the crowd. + </p> + <p> + He pointed to the Gonfalon, wrought with the Republican motto and arms of + Rome, and thus he began:— + </p> + <p> + “I too am a Roman and a Citizen; hear me!” + </p> + <p> + “Hear him not! hear him not! his false tongue can charm away our senses!” + cried a voice louder than his own; and Rienzi recognised Cecco del + Vecchio. + </p> + <p> + “Hear him not! down with the tyrant!” cried a more shrill and youthful + tone; and by the side of the artisan stood Angelo Villani. + </p> + <p> + “Hear him not! death to the death-giver!” cried a voice close at hand, and + from the grating of the neighbouring prison glared near upon him, as the + eye of a tiger, the vengeful gaze of the brother of Montreal. + </p> + <p> + Then from Earth to Heaven rose the roar—“Down with the tyrant—down + with him who taxed the people!” + </p> + <p> + A shower of stones rattled on the mail of the Senator,—still he + stirred not. No changing muscle betokened fear. His persuasion of his own + wonderful powers of eloquence, if he could but be heard, inspired him yet + with hope; he stood collected in his own indignant, but determined + thoughts;—but the knowledge of that very eloquence was now his + deadliest foe. The leaders of the multitude trembled lest he should be + heard; “and doubtless,” says the contemporaneous biographer, “had he but + spoken he would have changed them all, and the work been marred.” + </p> + <p> + The soldiers of the Barons had already mixed themselves with the throng—more + deadly weapons than stones aided the wrath of the multitude—darts + and arrows darkened the air; and now a voice was heard shrieking, “Way for + the torches!” And red in the sunlight the torches tossed and waved, and + danced to and fro, above the heads of the crowd, as if the fiends were let + loose amongst the mob! And what place in hell hath fiends like those a mad + mob can furnish? Straw, and wood, and litter, were piled hastily round the + great doors of the Capitol, and the smoke curled suddenly up, beating back + the rush of the assailants. + </p> + <p> + Rienzi was no longer visible, an arrow had pierced his hand—the + right hand that supported the flag of Rome—the right hand that had + given a constitution to the Republic. He retired from the storm into the + desolate hall. + </p> + <p> + He sat down;—and tears, springing from no weak and woman source, but + tears from the loftiest fountain of emotion—tears that befit a + warrior when his own troops desert him—a patriot when his countrymen + rush to their own doom—a father when his children rebel against his + love,—tears such as these forced themselves from his eyes and + relieved,—but they changed, his heart! + </p> + <p> + “Enough, enough!” he said, presently rising and dashing the drops + scornfully away; “I have risked, dared, toiled enough for this dastard and + degenerate race. I will yet baffle their malice—I renounce the + thought of which they are so little worthy!—Let Rome perish!—I + feel, at last, that I am nobler than my country!—she deserves not so + high a sacrifice!” + </p> + <p> + With that feeling, Death lost all the nobleness of aspect it had before + presented to him; and he resolved, in very scorn of his ungrateful foes, + in very defeat of their inhuman wrath, to make one effort for his life! He + divested himself of his glittering arms; his address, his dexterity, his + craft, returned to him. His active mind ran over the chances of disguise—of + escape;—he left the hall—passed through the humbler rooms, + devoted to the servitors and menials—found in one of them a coarse + working garb—indued himself with it—placed upon his head some + of the draperies and furniture of the palace, as if escaping with them; + and said, with his old “fantastico riso” (“Fantastic smile or laugh.”)—“When + all other friends desert me, I may well forsake myself!” With that he + awaited his occasion. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile the flames burnt fierce and fast; the outer door below was + already consumed; from the apartment he had deserted the fire burst out in + volleys of smoke—the wood crackled—the lead melted—with + a crash fell the severed gates—the dreadful entrance was opened to + all the multitude—the proud Capitol of the Caesars was already + tottering to its fall!—Now was the time!—he passed the flaming + door—the smouldering threshold;—he passed the outer gate + unscathed—he was in the middle of the crowd. “Plenty of pillage + within,” he said to the bystanders, in the Roman patois, his face + concealed by his load—“Suso, suso a gliu traditore!” (Down, down + with the traitor.) The mob rushed past him—he went on—he + gained the last stair descending into the open streets—he was at the + last gate—liberty and life were before him. + </p> + <p> + A soldier (one of his own) seized him. “Pass not—whither goest + thou?” + </p> + <p> + “Beware, lest the Senator escape disguised!” cried a voice behind—it + was Villani’s. The concealing load was torn from his head—Rienzi + stood revealed! + </p> + <p> + “I am the Senator!” he said in a loud voice. “Who dare touch the + Representative of the People?” + </p> + <p> + The multitude were round him in an instant. Not led, but rather hurried + and whirled along, the Senator was borne to the Place of the Lion. With + the intense glare of the bursting flames, the grey image reflected a lurid + light, and glowed—(that grim and solemn monument!)—as if + itself of fire! + </p> + <p> + There arrived, the crowd gave way, terrified by the greatness of their + victim. Silent he stood, and turned his face around; nor could the squalor + of his garb, nor the terror of the hour, nor the proud grief of detection, + abate the majesty of his mien, or reassure the courage of the thousands + who gathered, gazing, round him. The whole Capitol wrapped in fire, + lighted with ghastly pomp the immense multitude. Down the long vista of + the streets extended the fiery light and the serried throng, till the + crowd closed with the gleaming standards of the Colonna—the Orsini—the + Savelli! Her true tyrants were marching into Rome! As the sound of their + approaching horns and trumpets broke upon the burning air, the mob seemed + to regain their courage. Rienzi prepared to speak; his first word was as + the signal of his own death. + </p> + <p> + “Die, tyrant!” cried Cecco del Vecchio: and he plunged his dagger in the + Senator’s breast. + </p> + <p> + “Die, executioner of Montreal!” muttered Villani: “thus the trust is + fulfilled!” and his was the second stroke. Then as he drew back, and saw + the artisan in all the drunken fury of his brute passion, tossing up his + cap, shouting aloud, and spurning the fallen lion,—the young man + gazed upon him with a look of withering and bitter scorn, and said, while + he sheathed his blade, and slowly turned to quit the crowd, + </p> + <p> + “Fool, miserable fool! thou and these at least had no blood of kindred to + avenge!” + </p> + <p> + They heeded not his words—they saw him not depart; for as Rienzi, + without a word, without a groan, fell to the earth,—as the roaring + waves of the multitude closed over him,—a voice, shrill, sharp, and + wild, was heard above all the clamour. At the casement of the Palace, (the + casement of her bridal chamber,) Nina stood!—through the flames that + burst below and around, her face and outstretched arms alone visible! Ere + yet the sound of that thrilling cry passed from the air, down with a + mighty crash thundered that whole wing of the Capitol,—a blackened + and smouldering mass. + </p> + <p> + At that hour, a solitary boat was gliding swiftly along the Tiber. Rome + was at a distance, but the lurid blow of the conflagration cast its + reflection upon the placid and glassy stream: fair beyond description was + the landscape; soft beyond all art of Painter and of Poet, the sunlight + quivering over the autumnal herbage, and hushing into tender calm the + waves of the golden River! + </p> + <p> + Adrian’s eyes were strained towards the towers of the Capitol, + distinguished by the flames from the spires and domes around;—senseless, + and clasped to his guardian breast, Irene was happily unconscious of the + horrors of the time. + </p> + <p> + “They dare not—they dare not,” said the brave Colonna, “touch a hair + of that sacred head!—if Rienzi fall, the liberties of Rome fall for + ever! As those towers that surmount the flames, the pride and monument of + Rome, he shall rise above the dangers of the hour. Behold, still unscathed + amidst the raging element, the Capitol itself is his emblem!” + </p> + <p> + Scarce had he spoken, when a vast volume of smoke obscured the fires afar + off, a dull crash (deadened by the distance) travelled to his ear, and the + next moment, the towers on which he gazed had vanished from the scene, and + one intense and sullen glare seemed to settle over the atmosphere,—making + all Rome itself the funeral pyre of THE LAST OF THE ROMAN TRIBUNES! + </p> + <p> + The End + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_APPE" id="link2H_APPE"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Appendix I. Some Remarks on the Life and Character of Rienzi. + </h2> + <p> + The principal authority from which historians have taken their account of + the life and times of Rienzi is a very curious biography, by some unknown + contemporary; and this, which is in the Roman patois of the time, has been + rendered not quite unfamiliar to the French and English reader by the work + of Pere du Cerceau, called “Conjuration de Nicolas Gabrini, dit de + Rienzi,” (See for a specimen of the singular blunders of the Frenchman’s + work, Appendix II.) which has at once pillaged and deformed the Roman + biographer. The biography I refer to was published (and the errors of the + former editions revised) by Muratori in his great collection; and has + lately been reprinted separately in an improved text, accompanied by notes + of much discrimination and scholastic taste, and a comment upon that + celebrated poem of Petrarch, “Spirito Gentil,” which the majority of + Italian critics have concurred in considering addressed to Rienzi, in + spite of the ingenious arguments to the contrary by the Abbe de Sade. + </p> + <p> + This biography has been generally lauded for its rare impartiality. And + the author does, indeed, praise and blame alike with a most singular + appearance of stolid candour. The work, in truth, is one of those not + uncommon proofs, of which Boswell’s “Johnson” is the most striking, that a + very valuable book may be written by a very silly man. The biographer of + Rienzi appears more like the historian of Rienzi’s clothes, so minute is + he on all details of their colour and quality—so silent is he upon + everything that could throw light upon the motives of their wearer. In + fact, granting the writer every desire to be impartial, he is too foolish + to be so. It requires some cleverness to judge accurately of a very clever + man in very difficult circumstances; and the worthy biographer is utterly + incapable of giving us any clue to the actions of Rienzi—utterly + unable to explain the conduct of the man by the circumstances of the time. + The weakness of his vision causes him, therefore, often to squint. We must + add to his want of wisdom a want of truth, which the Herodotus-like + simplicity of his style frequently conceals. He describes things which had + no witness as precisely and distinctly as those which he himself had seen. + For instance, before the death of Rienzi, in those awful moments when the + Senator was alone, unheard, unseen, he coolly informs us of each motion, + and each thought of Rienzi’s, with as much detail as if Rienzi had + returned from the grave to assist his narration. These obvious inventions + have been adopted by Gibbon and others with more good faith than the laws + of evidence would warrant. Still, however, to a patient and cautious + reader the biography may furnish a much better notion of Rienzi’s + character, than we can glean from the historians who have borrowed from it + piecemeal. Such a reader will discard all the writer’s reasonings, will + think little of his praise or blame, and regard only the facts he + narrates, judging them true or doubtful, according as the writer had the + opportunities of being himself the observer. Thus examining, the reader + will find evidence sufficient of Rienzi’s genius and Rienzi’s failings: + Carefully distinguishing between the period of his power as Tribune, and + that of his power as Senator, he will find the Tribune vain, haughty, fond + of display; but, despite the reasonings of the biographer, he will not + recognise those faults in the Senator. On the other hand, he will notice + the difference between youth and maturity—hope and experience; he + will notice in the Tribune vast ambition, great schemes, enterprising + activity—which sober into less gorgeous and more quiet colours in + the portrait of the Senator. He will find that in neither instance did + Rienzi fall from his own faults—he will find that the vulgar moral + of ambition, blasted by its own excesses, is not the true moral of the + Roman’s life; he will find that, both in his abdication as Tribune, and + his death as Senator, Rienzi fell from the vices of the People. The + Tribune was a victim to ignorant cowardice—the Senator, a victim to + ferocious avarice. It is this which modern historians have failed to + represent. Gibbon records rightly, that the Count of Minorbino entered + Rome with one hundred and fifty soldiers, and barricadoed the quarter of + the Colonna—that the bell of the Capitol sounded—that Rienzi + addressed the People—that they were silent and inactive—and + that Rienzi then abdicated the government. But for this he calls Rienzi + “pusillanimous.” Is not that epithet to be applied to the People? Rienzi + invoked them to move against the Robber—the People refused to obey. + Rienzi wished to fight—the People refused to stir. It was not the + cause of Rienzi alone which demanded their exertions—it was the + cause of the People—theirs, not his, the shame, if one hundred and + fifty foreign soldiers mastered Rome, overthrew their liberties, and + restored their tyrants! Whatever Rienzi’s sins, whatever his unpopularity, + their freedom, their laws, their republic, were at stake; and these they + surrendered to one hundred and fifty hirelings! This is the fact that + damns them! But Rienzi was not unpopular when he addressed and conjured + them: they found no fault with him. “The sighs and the groans of the + People,” says Sismondi, justly, “replied to his,”—they could weep, + but they would not fight. This strange apathy the modern historians have + not accounted for, yet the principal cause was obvious—Rienzi was + excommunicated! (And this curse I apprehend to have been the more + effective in the instance of Rienzi, from a fact that it would be + interesting and easy to establish: viz., that he owed his rise as much to + religious as to civil causes. He aimed evidently to be a religious + Reformer. All his devices, ceremonies, and watchwords, were of a religious + character. The monks took part with his enterprise, and joined in the + revolution. His letters are full of mystical fanaticism. His references to + ancient heroes of Rome are always mingled with invocations to her + Christian Saints. The Bible, at that time little read by the public + civilians of Italy, is constantly in his hands, and his addresses studded + with texts. His very garments were adorned with sacred and mysterious + emblems. No doubt, the ceremony of his Knighthood, which Gibbon ridicules + as an act of mere vanity, was but another of his religious extravagances; + for he peculiarly dedicated his Knighthood to the service of the Santo + Spirito; and his bathing in the vase of Constantine was quite of a piece, + not with the vanity of the Tribune, but with the extravagance of the + Fanatic. In fact, they tried hard to prove him a heretic; but he escaped a + charge under the mild Innocent, which a century or two before, or a + century or two afterwards, would have sufficed to have sent a dozen + Rienzis to the stake. I have dwelt the more upon this point, because, if + it be shown that religious causes operated with those of liberty, we throw + a new light upon the whole of that most extraordinary revolution, and its + suddenness is infinitely less striking. The deep impression Rienzi + produced upon that populace was thus stamped with the spirit of the + religious enthusiast more than that of the classical demagogue. And, as in + the time of Cromwell, the desire for temporal liberty was warmed and + coloured by the presence of a holier and more spiritual fervour:—“The + Good Estate” (Buono Stato) of Rienzi reminds us a little of the Good Cause + of General Cromwell.) In stating the fact, these writers have seemed to + think that excommunication in Rome, in the fourteenth century, produced no + effect!—the effect it did produce I have endeavoured in these pages + to convey. + </p> + <p> + The causes of the second fall and final murder of Rienzi are equally + misstated by modern narrators. It was from no fault of his—no + injustice, no cruelty, no extravagance—it was not from the execution + of Montreal, nor that of Pandulfo di Guido—-it was from a gabelle on + wine and salt that he fell. To preserve Rome from the tyrants it was + necessary to maintain an armed force; to pay the force a tax was + necessary; the tax was imposed—and the multitude joined with the + tyrants, and their cry was, “Perish the traitor who has made the gabelle!” + This was their only charge—this the only crime that their passions + and their fury could cite against him. + </p> + <p> + The faults of Rienzi are sufficiently visible, and I have not unsparingly + shewn them; but we must judge men, not according as they approach + perfection, but according as their good or bad qualities preponderate—their + talents or their weaknesses—the benefits they effected, the evil + they wrought. For a man who rose to so great a power, Rienzi’s faults were + singularly few—crimes he committed none. He is almost the only man + who ever rose from the rank of a citizen to a power equal to that of + monarchs without a single act of violence or treachery. When in power, he + was vain, ostentatious, and imprudent,—always an enthusiast—often + a fanatic; but his very faults had greatness of soul, and his very + fanaticism at once supported his enthusiastic daring, and proved his + earnest honesty. It is evident that no heinous charge could be brought + against him even by his enemies, for all the accusations to which he was + subjected, when excommunicated, exiled, fallen, were for two offences + which Petrarch rightly deemed the proofs of his virtue and his glory: + first, for declaring Rome to be free; secondly, for pretending that the + Romans had a right of choice in the election of the Roman Emperor. (The + charge of heresy was dropped.) Stern, just, and inflexible, as he was when + Tribune, his fault was never that of wanton cruelty. The accusation + against him, made by the gentle Petrarch, indeed, was that he was not + determined enough—that he did not consummate the revolution by + exterminating the patrician tyrants. When Senator, he was, without + sufficient ground, accused of avarice in the otherwise just and necessary + execution of Montreal. (Gibbon, in mentioning the execution of Montreal, + omits to state that Montreal was more than suspected of conspiracy and + treason to restore the Colonna. Matthew Villani records it as a common + belief that such truly was the offence of the Provencal. The biographer of + Rienzi gives additional evidence of the fact. Gibbon’s knowledge of this + time was superficial. As one instance of this, he strangely enough + represents Montreal as the head of the first Free Company that desolated + Italy: he took that error from the Pere du Cerceau.) It was natural enough + that his enemies and the vulgar should suppose that he executed a creditor + to get rid of a debt; but it was inexcusable in later, and wiser, and + fairer writers to repeat so grave a calumny, without at least adding the + obvious suggestion, that the avarice of Rienzi could have been much better + gratified by sparing than by destroying the life of one of the richest + subjects in Europe. Montreal, we may be quite sure, would have purchased + his life at an immeasurably higher price than the paltry sum lent to + Rienzi by his brothers. And this is not a probable hypothesis, but a + certain fact, for we are expressly told that Montreal, “knowing the + Tribune was in want of money, offered Rienzi, that if he would let him go, + he, Montreal, would furnish him not only with twenty thousand florins, + (four times the amount of Rienzi’s debt to him,) but with as many soldiers + and as much money as he pleased.” This offer Rienzi did not attend to. + Would he have rejected it had avarice been his motive? And what culpable + injustice, to mention the vague calumny without citing the practical + contradiction! When Gibbon tells us, also, that “the most virtuous citizen + of Rome,” meaning Pandulfo, or Pandolficcio di Guido, (Matthew Villani + speaks of him as a wise and good citizen, of great repute among the People—and + this, it seems, he really was.) was sacrificed to his jealousy, he a + little exaggerates the expression bestowed upon Pandulfo, which is that of + “virtuoso assai;” and that expression, too, used by a man who styles the + robber Montreal, “eccellente uomo—di quale fama suono per tutta la + Italia di virtude” (“An excellent man whose fame for valour resounded + throughout all Italy.”)—(so good a moral critic was the writer!) but + he also altogether waves all mention of the probabilities that are + sufficiently apparent, of the scheming of Pandulfo to supplant Rienzi, and + to obtain the “Signoria del Popolo.” Still, however, if the death of + Pandulfo may be considered a blot on the memory of Rienzi, it does not + appear that it was this which led to his own fate. The cry of the mob + surrounding his palace was not, “Perish him who executed Pandulfo,” it was—and + this again and again must be carefully noted—it was nothing more nor + less than, “Perish him who has made the gabelle!” + </p> + <p> + Gibbon sneers at the military skill and courage of Rienzi. For this sneer + there is no cause. His first attempts, his first rise, attested + sufficiently his daring and brave spirit; in every danger he was present—never + shrinking from a foe so long as he was supported by the People. He + distinguished himself at Viterbo when in the camp of Albornoz, in several + feats of arms, (“Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. ii. cap. 14.) and his end + was that of a hero. So much for his courage; as to his military skill; it + would be excusable enough if Rienzi—the eloquent and gifted student, + called from the closet and the rostrum to assume the command of an army—should + have been deficient in the art of war; yet, somehow or other, upon the + whole, his arms prospered. He defeated the chivalry of Rome at her gates; + and if he did not, after his victory, march to Marino, for which his + biographer (In this the anonymous writer compares him gravely to Hannibal, + who knew how to conquer, but not how to use his conquest.) and Gibbon + blame him, the reason is sufficiently clear—“Volea pecunia per + soldati”—he wanted money for the soldiers! On his return as Senator, + it must be remembered that he had to besiege Palestrina, which was + considered even by the ancient Romans almost impregnable by position; but + during the few weeks he was in power, Palestrina yielded—all his + open enemies were defeated—the tyrants expelled—Rome free; and + this without support from any party, Papal or Popular, or, as Gibbon well + expresses it, “suspected by the People—abandoned by the Prince.” + </p> + <p> + On regarding what Rienzi did, we must look to his means, to the + difficulties that surrounded him, to the scantiness of his resources. We + see a man without rank, wealth, or friends, raising himself to the head of + a popular government in the metropolis of the Church—in the City of + the Empire. We see him reject any title save that of a popular magistrate—establish + at one stroke a free constitution—a new code of law. We see him + first expel, then subdue, the fiercest aristocracy in Europe—conquer + the most stubborn banditti, rule impartially the most turbulent people, + embruted by the violence, and sunk in the corruption of centuries. We see + him restore trade—establish order—create civilization as by a + miracle—receive from crowned heads homage and congratulation—outwit, + conciliate, or awe, the wiliest priesthood of the Papal Diplomacy—and + raise his native city at once to sudden yet acknowledged eminence over + every other state, its superior in arts, wealth, and civilization;—we + ask what errors we are to weigh in the opposite balance, and we find an + unnecessary ostentation, a fanatical extravagance, and a certain insolent + sternness. But what are such offences—what the splendour of a + banquet, or the ceremony of Knighthood, or a few arrogant words, compared + with the vices of almost every prince who was his contemporary? This is + the way to judge character: we must compare men with men, and not with + ideals of what men should be. We look to the amazing benefits Rienzi + conferred upon his country. We ask his means, and see but his own + abilities. His treasury becomes impoverished—his enemies revolt—the + Church takes advantage of his weakness—he is excommunicated—the + soldiers refuse to fight—the People refuse to assist—the + Barons ravage the country—the ways are closed, the provisions are + cut off from Rome. (“Allora le strade furo chiuse, li massari de la terre + non portavano grano, ogni die nasceva nuovo rumore.”—“Vita di Cola + di Rienzi”, lib. i. cap. 37.) A handful of banditti enter the city—Rienzi + proposes to resist them—the People desert—he abdicates. + Rapine, Famine, Massacre, ensue—they who deserted regret, repent—yet + he is still unassisted, alone—now an exile, now a prisoner, his own + genius saves him from every peril, and restores him to greatness. He + returns, the Pope’s Legate refuses him arms—the People refuse him + money. He re-establishes law and order, expels the tyrants, renounces his + former faults (this, the second period of his power, has been represented + by Gibbon and others as that of his principal faults, and he is evidently + at this time no favourite with his contemporaneous biographer; but looking + to what he did, we find amazing dexterity, prudence, and energy in the + most difficult crisis, and none of his earlier faults. It is true, that he + does not shew the same brilliant extravagance which, I suspect, dazzled + his contemporaries, more than his sounder qualities; but we find that in a + few weeks he had conquered all his powerful enemies—that his + eloquence was as great as ever—his promptitude greater—his + diligence indefatigable—his foresight unslumbering. “He alone,” says + the biographer, “carried on the affairs of Rome, but his officials were + slothful and cold.” This too, tortured by a painful disease—already—though + yet young—broken and infirm. The only charges against him, as + Senator, were the deaths of Montreal and Pandulfo di Guido, the imposition + of the gabelle, and the renunciation of his former habits of rigid + abstinence, for indulgence in wine and feasting. Of the first charges, the + reader has already been enabled to form a judgment. To the last, alas! the + reader must extend indulgence, and for it he may find excuse. We must + compassionate even more than condemn the man to whom excitement has become + nature, and who resorts to the physical stimulus or the momentary Lethe, + when the mental exhilarations of hope, youth, and glory, begin to desert + him. His alleged intemperance, however, which the Romans (a peculiarly + sober people) might perhaps exaggerate, and for which he gave the excuse + of a thirst produced by disease contracted in the dungeon of Avignon—evidently + and confessedly did not in the least diminish his attention to business, + which, according to his biographer, was at that time greater than ever.)—is + prudent, wary, provident—reigns a few weeks—taxes the People, + in support of the People, and is torn to pieces! One day of the rule that + followed is sufficient to vindicate his reign and avenge his memory—and + for centuries afterwards, whenever that wretched and degenerate populace + dreamed of glory or sighed for justice, they recalled the bright vision of + their own victim, and deplored the fate of Cola di Rienzi. That he was not + a tyrant is clear in this—when he was dead, he was bitterly + regretted. The People never regret a tyrant! From the unpopularity that + springs from other faults there is often a re-action; but there is no + re-action in the populace towards their betrayor or oppressor. A thousand + biographies cannot decide upon the faults or merits of a ruler like the + one fact, whether he is beloved or hated ten years after he is dead. But + if the ruler has been murdered by the People, and is then regretted by + them, their repentance is his acquittal. + </p> + <p> + I have said that the moral of the Tribune’s life, and of this fiction, is + not the stale and unprofitable moral that warns the ambition of an + individual:—More vast, more solemn, and more useful, it addresses + itself to nations. If I judge not erringly, it proclaims that, to be great + and free, a People must trust not to individuals but themselves—that + there is no sudden leap from servitude to liberty—that it is to + institutions, not to men, for they must look for reforms that last beyond + the hour—that their own passions are the real despots they should + subdue, their own reason the true regenerator of abuses. With a calm and a + noble people, the individual ambition of a citizen can never effect evil:—to + be impatient of chains, is not to be worthy of freedom—to murder a + magistrate is not to ameliorate the laws. (Rienzi was murdered because the + Romans had been in the habit of murdering whenever they were displeased. + They had, very shortly before, stoned one magistrate, and torn to pieces + another. By the same causes and the same career a People may be made to + resemble the bravo whose hand wanders to his knife at the smallest + affront, and if today he poniards the enemy who assaults him, tomorrow he + strikes the friend who would restrain.) The People write their own + condemnation whenever they use characters of blood; and theirs alone the + madness and the crime, if they crown a tyrant or butcher a victim. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2H_APPE2" id="link2H_APPE2"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + Appendix II. A Word Upon the Work by Pere du Cerceau and Pere Brumoy, + </h2> + <h3> + Entitled “Conjuration de Nicolas Gabrini, Dit de Rienzi, Tyran de Rome.” + </h3> + <p> + Shortly after the Romance of “Rienzi” first appeared, a translation of the + biography compiled by Cerceau and Brumoy was published by Mr. Whittaker. + The translator, in a short and courteous advertisement, observes, “That it + has always been considered as a work of authority; and even Gibbon appears + to have relied on it without further research: (Here, however, he does + injustice to Gibbon.)...that, “as a record of facts, therefore, the work + will, it is presumed, be acceptable to the public.” The translator has + fulfilled his duty with accuracy, elegance, and spirit,—and he must + forgive me, if, in justice to History and Rienzi, I point out a very few + from amongst a great many reasons, why the joint labour of the two worthy + Jesuits cannot be considered either a work of authority, or a record of + facts. The translator observes in his preface, “that the general outline + (of Du Cerceau’s work) was probably furnished by an Italian life written + by a contemporary of Rienzi.” The fact, however, is, that Du Cerceau’s + book is little more than a wretched paraphrase of that very Italian life + mentioned by the translator,—full of blunders, from ignorance of the + peculiar and antiquated dialect in which the original is written, and of + assumptions by the Jesuit himself, which rest upon no authority whatever. + I will first shew, in support of this assertion, what the Italians + themselves think of the work of Fathers Brumoy and Du Cerceau. The Signor + Zefirino Re, who had proved himself singularly and minutely acquainted + with the history of that time, and whose notes to the “Life of Rienzi” are + characterized by acknowledged acuteness and research, thus describes the + manner in which the two Jesuits compounded this valuable “record of + facts.” + </p> + <p> + “Father Du Cerceau for his work made use of a French translation of the + life by the Italian contemporary printed in Bracciano, 1624, executed by + Father Sanadon, another Jesuit, from whom he received the MS. This proves + that Du Cerceau knew little of our ‘volgar lingua’ of the fourteenth + century. But the errors into which he has run shew, that even that little + was unknown to his guide, and still less to Father Brumoy, (however + learned and reputed the latter might be in French literature,) who, after + the death of Du Cerceau, supplied the deficiencies in the first pages of + the author’s MS., which were, I know not how, lost; and in this part are + found the more striking errors in the work, which shall be noticed in the + proper place; in the meantime, one specimen will suffice. In the third + chapter, book i., Cola, addressing the Romans, says, ‘Che lo giubileo si + approssima, che se la gente, la quale verra al giubileo, li trova + sproveduti di annona, le pietre (per metatesi sta scritto le preite) ne + porteranno da Roma per rabbia di fame, e le pietre non basteranno a tanta + moltitudine. Il francese traduce. Le jubile approche, et vous n’avez ni + provisions, ni vivres; les etrangers...trouvent votre ville denue de tout. + Ne comptez point sur les secours des gens d’Eglise; ils sortiront de la + ville, s’ils n’y trouvent de quoi subsister: et d’ailleurs pourroient-ils + suffire a la multitude innombrable, que se trouvera dans vos murs?’” (The + English translator could not fail to adopt the Frenchman’s ludicrous + mistake.) “Buon Dio!” exclaims the learned Zefirino, “Buon Dio! le pietre + prese per tanta gente di chiesa!” (See Preface to Zefirino Re’s edition of + the “Life of Rienzi,” page 9, note on Du Cerceau.) + </p> + <p> + Another blunder little less extraordinary occurs in Chapter vi., in which + the ordinances of Rienzi’s Buono Stato are recited. + </p> + <p> + It is set forth as the third ordinance:—“Che nulla case di Roma sia + data per terra per alcuna cagione, ma vada in commune;” which simply + means, that the houses of delinquents should in no instance be razed, but + added to the community or confiscated. This law being intended partly to + meet the barbarous violences with which the excesses and quarrels of the + Barons had half dismantled Rome, and principally to repeal some old penal + laws by which the houses of a certain class of offenders might be + destroyed; but the French translator construes it, “Que nulle maison de + Rome ne saroit donnee en propre, pour quelque raison que ce put etre; mais + que les revenus en appartiendroient au public!” (The English translator + makes this law unintelligible:—“That no family of Rome shall + appropriate to their own use what they think fit, but that the revenues + shall appertain to the public”!!!—the revenues of what?) + </p> + <p> + But enough of the blunders arising from ignorance.—I must now be + permitted to set before the reader a few of the graver offences of wilful + assumption and preposterous invention. + </p> + <p> + When Rienzi condemned some of the Barons to death, the Pere thus writes; I + take the recent translation published by Mr. Whittaker:— + </p> + <p> + “The next day the Tribune, resolving more than ever to rid himself of his + prisoners, ordered tapestries of two colours, red and white, to be laid + over the place whereon he held his councils, and which he had made choice + of to be the theatre of this bloody tragedy, as the extraordinary tapestry + seemed to declare. He afterwards sent a cordelier to every one of the + prisoners to administer the sacraments, and then ordered the Capitol bell + to be tolled. At that fatal sound and the sight of the confessors, the + Lords no longer doubted of sentence of death being passed upon them. They + all confessed except the old Colonna, and many received the communion. In + the meanwhile the people, naturally prompt to attend, when their first + impetuosity had time to calm, could not without pity behold the dismal + preparations which were making. The sight of the bloody colour in the + tapestry shocked them. On this first impression they joined in opinion in + relation to so many illustrious heads now going to be sacrificed, and + lamented more their unhappy catastrophe, as no crime had been proved upon + them to render them worthy of such barbarous treatment. Above all, the + unfortunate Stephen Colonna, whose birth, age, and affable behaviour, + commanded respect, excited a particular compassion. An universal silence + and sorrow reigned among them. Those who were nearest Rienzi discovered an + alteration. They took the opportunity of imploring his mercy towards the + prisoners in terms the most affecting and moving.” + </p> + <p> + Will it be believed, that in the original from which the Pere Du Cerceau + borrows or rather imagines this touching recital, there is not a single + syllable about the pity of the people, nor their shock at the bloody + colours of the tapestry, nor their particular compassion for the + unfortunate Stephen Colonna?—in fine, the People are not even + mentioned at all. All that is said is, “Some Roman citizens, (alcuni + cittadini Romani,) considering the judgment Rienzi was about to make, + interposed with soft and caressing words, and at last changed the opinion + of the Tribune;” all the rest is the pure fiction of the ingenious + Frenchman! Again, Du Cerceau, describing the appearance of the Barons at + this fatal moment, says, “Notwithstanding the grief and despair visible in + their countenances, they shewed a noble indignation, generally attendant + on innocence in the hour of death.” What says the authority from which + alone, except his own, the good Father could take his account? Why, not a + word about this noble indignation, or this parade of innocence! The + original says simply, that “the Barons were so frozen with terror that + they were unable to speak,” (diventaso si gelati che non poteano + favellare;) “that the greater part humbled themselves,” (e prese penitenza + e comunione;) that when Rienzi addressed them “all the Barons (come + dannati) stood in sadness.” (See “Vita di Cola di Rienzi”, lib. i. cap. + 29.) Du Cerceau then proceeds to state, that “although he (Rienzi) was + grieved at heart to behold his victims snatched from him, he endeavoured + to make a merit of it in the eyes of the People.” There is not a word of + this in the original! + </p> + <p> + So when Rienzi, on a latter occasion, placed the Prefect John di Vico in + prison, this Jesuit says, “To put a gloss upon this action before the eyes + of the people, Rienzi gave out that the Governor, John di Vico, keeping a + correspondence with the conspirators, came with no other view than to + betray the Romans.” And if this scribbler, who pretends to have consulted + the Vatican MSS., had looked at the most ordinary authorities, he would + have seen that John di Vico did come with that view. (See for Di Vico’s + secret correspondence with the Barons, La Cron. Bologn. page 406; and La + Cron. Est. page 444.) + </p> + <p> + Again, in the battle between the Barons and the Romans at the gates, Du + Cerceau thus describes the conduct of the Tribune:—“The Tribune, + amidst his troops, knew so little of what had passed, that seeing at a + distance one of his standards fall, he looked upon all as lost, and, + casting up his eyes to heaven full of despair, cried out, ‘O God, will you + then forsake me?’ But no sooner was he informed of the entire defeat of + his enemies, than his dread and cowardice even turned to boldness and + arrogance.” + </p> + <p> + Now in the original all that is said of this is, “That it is true that the + standard of the Tribune fell—the Tribune astonished, (or if you + please, dismayed, sbigottio,) stood with his eyes raised to heaven, and + could find no other words than, ‘O God hast thou betrayed me?’” This + evinced, perhaps, alarm or consternation at the fall of his standard—a + consternation natural, not to a coward, but a fanatic, at such an event. + But not a word is said about Rienzi’s cowardice in the action itself; it + is not stated when the accident happened—nothing bears out the + implication that the Tribune was remote from the contest, and knew little + of what passed. And if this ignorant Frenchman had consulted any other + contemporaneous historian whatever, he would have found it asserted by + them all, that the fight was conducted with great valour, both by the + Roman populace and their leader on the one side, and the Barons on the + other.—G. Vill. lib. xii. cap. 105; Cron. Sen. tom. xv. Murat. page + 119; Cron. Est. page 444. Yet Gibbon rests his own sarcasm on the + Tribune’s courage solely on the baseless exaggeration of this Pere Du + Cerceau. + </p> + <p> + So little, indeed, did this French pretender know of the history of the + time and place he treats of, that he imagines the Stephen Colonna who was + killed in the battle above-mentioned was the old Stephen Colonna, and is + very pathetic about his “venerable appearance,” &c. This error, with + regard to a man so eminent as Stephen Colonna the elder, is inexcusable: + for, had the priest turned over the other pages of the very collection in + which he found the biography he deforms, he would have learned that old + Stephen Colonna was alive some time after that battle.—(Cron. Sen. + Murat. tom. xv. page 121.) + </p> + <p> + Again, just before Rienzi’s expulsion from the office of Tribune, Du + Cerceau, translating in his headlong way the old biographer’s account of + the causes of Rienzi’s loss of popularity, says, “He shut himself up in + his palace, and his presence was known only by the rigorous punishments + which he caused his agents to inflict upon the innocent.” Not a word of + this in the original! + </p> + <p> + Again, after the expulsion, Du Cerceau says, that the Barons seized upon + the “immense riches” he had amassed,—the words in the original are, + “grandi ornamenti,” which are very different things from immense riches. + But the most remarkable sins of commission are in this person’s account of + the second rise and fall of Rienzi under the title of Senator. Of this I + shall give but one instance:— + </p> + <p> + “The Senator, who perceived it, became only the more cruel. His jealousies + produced only fresh murders. In the continual dread he was in, that the + general discontent would terminate in some secret attempt upon his person, + he determined to intimidate the most enterprising, by sacrificing + sometimes one, sometimes another, and chiefly those whose riches rendered + them the more guilty in his eyes. Numbers were sent every day to the + Capitol prison. Happy were those who could get off with the confiscation + of their estates.” + </p> + <p> + Of these grave charges there is not a syllable in the original! And so + much for the work of Pere Cerceau and Pere Brumoy, by virtue of which, + historians have written of the life and times of Rienzi, and upon the + figments of which, the most remarkable man in an age crowded with great + characters is judged by the general reader! + </p> + <p> + I must be pardoned for this criticism, which might not have been + necessary, had not the work to which it relates, in the English + translation quoted from, (a translation that has no faults but those of + the French original,) been actually received as an historical and + indisputable authority, and opposed with a triumphant air to some passages + in my own narrative which were literally taken from the authentic records + of the time. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <div>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 1396 ***</div> +</body> +</html> |