“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.”
“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!”
“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!”
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.
“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!”
BOOK X. THE LION Of BASALT.
“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”.