Thus you see the Tribune's good deed brought forth no good fruit—only evil; for as the prisoners were set free, their faces wore such heavy scowls and their teeth set so savagely that the people were filled with foreboding and for the first time began to doubt the wisdom of their ruler.
The citizens had good cause to be alarmed. That very night the barons secretly fled from the city, and the next day reports reached the market-place that they were collecting a large army in the provinces and would soon march against Rienzi to crush him. The reports were soon confirmed and grew more portentous day by day The people became terrified and openly reproached the Tribune for his lack of foresight. Yet they still clung to him as their leader, and implored him to save them from their enemies.
Rienzi went about with calm and cheerful countenance. His very presence inspired confidence, and his speeches brought the people flocking to his standard and ready to shed their last drop of blood in the beloved cause.
But there was one, in this troublous time, whose heart was torn with conflicting emotions. Poor Adrian did not know which way to turn. Loyalty to his kindred and father's house demanded that he side with the barons. A new-found devotion to his country and belief in Rienzi urged him to support the people. And in addition he had become deeply in love with the gentle Irene and felt that she responded to his devotion. It was indeed a heart-breaking situation for him and one that seemed more hopeless as the day of battle grew imminent.
Finally the barons' army drew proudly on the city, and halting before the gates demanded its instant surrender. The warders shouted back defiance, while from within came the sound of singing and marching men. Rienzi's forces approached the gates with resolute step keeping time to a sonorous war-chant. At their head rode the Tribune, his dark eyes flashing with the light of conflict. But before he could give orders to throw open the gates and meet the enemy on open ground, Adrian sprang forward and cast himself before Rienzi's charger.
"Halt! I beseech you, O Tribune!" he cried, while the steed reared and its rider drew in the reins sharply.
"What is the cause of this?" demanded Rienzi sternly.
"Let me plead with the barons once more!" begged Adrian. "Perchance they will listen to me, and there will be no need of bloodshed. Ah, let us have an armistice!"
"It is too late," replied the Tribune. "They have shown us that we can put no faith in speeches. Stand aside! What ho, warders! Open the gates, and let us give these rebels all the fighting they desire!"
And so they did! While the unfortunate Adrian was brushed aside, the gates were unbarred and the two armies rushed together in the shock of battle. Rome the ancient seat of many fierce struggles never saw one more fierce or deadly than this. The barons were spurred on by hatred and greed. The people were fighting for their liberties. And here and there and everywhere the black horse of Rienzi was seen, bearing his triumphant rider into the thickest of the fray. Rienzi's plume waving above his dark hair was the signal of victory. Rienzi's clear voice was encouragement and conquest.