“That it is true you have expelled the banditti, and curb the Barons, and administer justice fairly;—”
“Is not that miracle enough for the space of some two or three short months?”
“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.”
“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?”
“I say not so,” answered Cecco. “But we Romans are an impatient people.”
“Alas, yes!”
“However, they will no doubt stick close enough to you; provided, Tribune, you don’t put any new tax upon them.”
“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?”
“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.”
“This cannot be your reasoning, Cecco!” said Rienzi, gravely.