Rienzi [108]
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.
"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!"
"Must this insolence be endured!" whispered the Signora Frangipani to the Signora Malatesta.
"Hush, hush; if ever it be our day again!"
Chapter 4.II. The Blessing of A Councillor Whose Interests and Heart Are Our Own. - the Straws Thrown Upward, - Do They Portend A Storm.
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."
"Yet," said Raimond, hesitatingly, "bethink thee, Tribune; the nephew of two cardinals, and himself once a senator."
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?"
"Mercy," said the Colonna.
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."
"Between a peasant and a prince, Tribune, I, for one, recognise a distinction: - the bright blood of an
"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!"
"Must this insolence be endured!" whispered the Signora Frangipani to the Signora Malatesta.
"Hush, hush; if ever it be our day again!"
Chapter 4.II. The Blessing of A Councillor Whose Interests and Heart Are Our Own. - the Straws Thrown Upward, - Do They Portend A Storm.
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."
"Yet," said Raimond, hesitatingly, "bethink thee, Tribune; the nephew of two cardinals, and himself once a senator."
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?"
"Mercy," said the Colonna.
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."
"Between a peasant and a prince, Tribune, I, for one, recognise a distinction: - the bright blood of an