Rienzi, Last of the Roman Tribunes Part 33

Such chiding the young man answered only by the same unvarying words.

"Senator, I have a great trust to fulfil;"-and at these words he smiled.

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?"

"I remember your valour well, Angelo; but why the question?"

"My Lord, Bellini, the Captain of the Guard of the Capitol is dangerously ill."

"I know it."

"Whom can my Lord trust at the post?"

"Why, the Lieutenant."

"What!-a soldier that has served under the Orsini!"

"True. Well! There is Tommaso Filangieri."

"An excellent man; but is he not kin by blood to Pandulfo di Guido?"

"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."

"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."

"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."

"Senator, I led taller men than they are to the a.s.sault 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!"

"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."

"Senator, I can but repeat my usual answer-I have a great trust to fulfil!"

Chapter 10.VII. The Tax.

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 inst.i.tutions, he thus trusted to establish amongst her own citizens the only soldiery requisite for Rome.

But so base were the tools with which this great man was condemned to work out his n.o.ble 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."

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.

The Proclamation ran thus:- "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 a.s.sist 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!"

Then followed the announcement of the gabelle.

The Proclamation was set up in the public thoroughfares. Round one of the placards a crowd a.s.sembled. Their gestures were vehement and unguarded-their eyes sparkled-they conversed low, but eagerly.

"He dares to tax us, then! Why, the Barons or the Pope could not do more than that!"

"Shame! shame!" cried a gaunt female; "we, who were his friends! How are our little ones to get bread?"

"He should have seized the Pope's money!" quoth an honest wine-vender.

"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!"

"We are not Romans if we suffer this!" said a deserter from Palestrina.

"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 grat.i.tude! 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?"

"Hark to Cecco del Vecchio!"

"No, no; not now," growled the smith. "Tonight the artificers have a special meeting. We'll see-we'll see!"

A young man, m.u.f.fled in a cloak, who had not been before observed, touched the smith.

"Whoever storms the Capitol the day after tomorrow at the dawn," he whispered, "shall find the guards absent!"

He was gone before the smith could look round.

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?"

"They murmur a little, but seem to recognise the necessity. Cecco del Vecchio was the loudest grumbler, but is now the loudest approver."

"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-"

"Then what, Senator?"

"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!"

"My Lord, I would give this right hand," cried Villani, earnestly, "to hear you say you were attached to life!"

"You are a good youth, Angelo!" said Rienzi, as he pa.s.sed to Nina's chamber; and in her smile and wistful tenderness, forgot for a while-that he was a great man!

Chapter 10.VIII. The Threshold of the Event.

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 Amba.s.sadors 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.

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.

The Court dissolved. The Senator, elated and joyous, repaired towards his private apartments, previous to the banquet given to the Amba.s.sadors. Villani met him with his wonted sombre aspect.

"No sadness today, my Angelo," said the Senator, gaily; "Palestrina is ours!"

"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?"

"Till Roman virtue revives, perhaps-yes! But thus are we fools of Fortune;-today glad-tomorrow dejected!"

"Tomorrow," repeated Villani, mechanically: "Ay-tomorrow perhaps dejected."

"Thou playest with my words, boy," said Rienzi, half angrily, as he turned away.

But Villani heeded not the displeasure of his Lord.

The banquet was thronged and brilliant; and Rienzi that day, without an effort, played the courteous host.

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.

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 gra.s.s 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-a.s.serted 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 pa.s.sed 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.

"Villani! ever active in my service!" thought the Senator; "methinks this morning I spoke to him harshly-it was churlish in me!"

He re-entered the Place of the Capitol-he stood by the staircase of the Lion; there was a red stain upon the pavement, un.o.bliterated 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 eyeb.a.l.l.s seemed bent upon him with a malignant scowl; and as he pa.s.sed 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.

"Senator," said one of them, doubtingly, "Messere Angelo Villani is our new captain-we are to obey his orders?"

"a.s.suredly," returned the Senator, pa.s.sing 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 n.o.ble face, softened by the solicitude of untiring and anxious love.

"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.

"So happy-if we could have many hours like this!" murmured Nina, sinking on his breast. "Yet sometimes I wish-"

"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?"

"For a desert with thee, Cola!"

"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!"

"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 superst.i.tion 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, princ.i.p.ally 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 a.s.sociation of all!"

"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, G.o.d 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 enn.o.bled, to some high destiny beyond the earth! Who can tell? not I!-Let us pray!"

While the Senator was thus employed, Rome in her various quarters presented less holy and quiet scenes.

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?

Chapter The Last. The Close of the Chase.

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."

"Rest yet, my Cola; you want sleep."

"No; I feel feverish, and this old pain in the side torments me. I have letters to write."

"Let me be your secretary, dearest," said Nina.

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.

"How still are all things!" said Rienzi. "What a cool and delicious prelude, in these early hours, to the toilsome day."

Leaning over his wife, he then dictated different letters, interrupting the task at times by such observations as crossed his mind.

"So, now to Annibaldi! By the way, young Adrian should join us today; how I rejoice for Irene's sake!"

"Dear sister-yes! she loves,-if any, Cola, can so love,-as we do."

"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."

Rienzi flew to his sword! the door was thrown rudely open, and a figure in complete armour appeared within the chamber.

"How! what means this?" said Rienzi, standing before Nina, with his drawn sword.

The intruder lifted his visor-it was Adrian Colonna.

"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!"

"How!"

"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 pa.s.sed 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?"