“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 Orsini is not to be shed like that of a base plebeian—”
“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.”
Colonna drew his robe round him with great haughtiness, and bit his lip in silence. Raimond interposed.
“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?”
“Vex not yourself, holy Raimond, I will answer it to the Pontiff.” While they spoke the bell tolled heavily and loudly.
Colonna started.