Chapter 1.IV. An Adventure.
Avoiding the broken streams of the dispersed crowd, Adrian Colonna strode
rapidly down one of the narrow streets leading to his palace, which was
situated at no inconsiderable distance from the place in which the late
contest had occurred. The education of his life made him feel a profound
interest, not only in the divisions and disputes of his country, but also
in the scene he had just witnessed, and the authority exercised by Rienzi.
An orphan of a younger, but opulent branch of the Colonna, Adrian had been
brought up under the care and guardianship of his kinsman, that astute, yet
valiant Stephen Colonna, who, of all the nobles of Rome, was the most
powerful, alike from the favour of the pope, and the number of armed
hirelings whom his wealth enabled him to maintain. Adrian had early
manifested what in that age was considered an extraordinary disposition
towards intellectual pursuits, and had acquired much of the little that was
then known of the ancient language and the ancient history of his country.
Though Adrian was but a boy at the time in which, first presented to the
reader, he witnessed the emotions of Rienzi at the death of his brother,
his kind heart had been penetrated with sympathy for Cola's affliction, and
shame for the apathy of his kinsmen at the result of their own feuds. He
had earnestly sought the friendship of Rienzi, and, despite his years, had
become aware of the power and energy of his character. But though Rienzi,
after a short time, had appeared to think no more of his brother's death -
though he again entered the halls of the Colonna, and shared their
disdainful hospitalities, he maintained a certain distance and reserve of
manner, which even Adrian could only partially overcome. He rejected every
offer of service, favour, or promotion; and any unwonted proof of kindness
from Adrian seemed, instead of making him more familiar, to offend him into
colder distance. The easy humour and conversational vivacity which had
first rendered him a welcome guest with those who passed their lives
between fighting and feasting, had changed into a vein ironical, cynical,
and severe. But the dull barons were equally amused at his wit, and Adrian
was almost the only one who detected the serpent couched beneath the smile.
Often Rienzi sat at the feast, silent, but observant, as if watching every
look, weighing every word, taking gauge and measurement of the intellect,
policy, temperament, of every guest; and when he had seemed to satisfy
himself, his spirits would rise, his words flow, and while his dazzling but
bitter wit lit up the revel, none saw that the unmirthful flash was the
token of the coming storm. But all the while, he neglected no occasion to
mix with the humbler citizens, to stir up their minds, to inflame their
imaginations, to kindle their emulation, with pictures of the present and
with legends of the past. He grew in popularity and repute, and was yet
more in power with the herd, because in favour with the nobles. Perhaps it
was for that reason that he had continued the guest of the Colonna.
When, six years before the present date, the Capitol of the Caesars
witnessed the triumph of Petrarch, the scholastic fame of the young Rienzi
had attracted the friendship of the poet, - a friendship that continued,
with slight interruption, to the last, through careers so widely different;
and afterwards, one among the Roman Deputies to Avignon, he had been
conjoined with Petrarch (According to the modern historians; but it seems
more probable that Rienzi's mission to Avignon was posterior to that of
Petrarch. However this be, it was at Avignon that Petrarch and Rienzi
became most intimate, as Petrarch himself observes in one of his letters.)
to supplicate Clement VI. to remove the Holy See from Avignon to Rome. It
was in this mission that, for the first time, he evinced his extraordinary
powers of eloquence and persuasion. The pontiff, indeed, more desirous of
ease than glory, was not convinced by the arguments, but he was enchanted
with the pleader; and Rienzi returned to Rome, loaded with honours, and
clothed with the dignity of high and responsible office. No longer the
inactive scholar, the gay companion, he rose at once to pre-eminence above
all his fellow-citizens. Never before had authority been borne with so
austere an integrity, so uncorrupt a zeal. He had sought to impregnate his
colleagues with the same loftiness of principle - he had failed. Now
secure in his footing, he had begun openly to appeal to the people; and
already a new spirit seemed to animate the populace of Rome.
While these were the fortunes of Rienzi, Adrian had been long separated
from him, and absent from Rome.
The Colonna were staunch supporters of the imperial party, and Adrian di
Castello had received and obeyed an invitation to the Emperor's court.
Under that monarch he had initiated himself in arms, and, among the knights
of Germany, he had learned to temper the natural Italian shrewdness with
the chivalry of northern valour.
In leaving Bavaria, he had sojourned a short time in the solitude of one of
his estates by the fairest lake of northern Italy; and thence, with a mind
improved alike by action and study, had visited many of the free Italian
states, imbibed sentiments less prejudiced than those of his order, and
acquired an early reputation for himself while inly marking the characters
and deeds of others. In him, the best qualities of the Italian noble were
united. Passionately addicted to the cultivation of letters, subtle and
profound in policy, gentle and bland of manner, dignifying a love of
pleasure with a certain elevation of taste, he yet possessed a gallantry of
conduct, and purity of honour, and an aversion from cruelty, which were
then very rarely found in the Italian temperament, and which even the
Chivalry of the North, while maintaining among themselves, usually
abandoned the moment they came into contact with the systematic craft and
disdain of honesty, which made the character of the ferocious, yet wily,
South. With these qualities he combined, indeed, the softer passions of
his countrymen, - he adored Beauty, and he made a deity of Love.
He had but a few weeks returned to his native city, whither his reputation
had already preceded him, and where his early affection for letters and
gentleness of bearing were still remembered. He returned to find the
position of Rienzi far more altered than his own. Adrian had not yet
sought the scholar. He wished first to judge with his own eyes, and at a
distance, of the motives and object of his conduct; for partly he caught
the suspicions which his own order entertained of Rienzi, and partly he
shared in the trustful enthusiasm of the people.
"Certainly," said he now to himself, as he walked musingly onward,
"certainly, no man has it more in his power to reform our diseased state,
to heal our divisions, to awaken our citizens to the recollections of
ancestral virtue. But that very power, how dangerous is it! Have I not
seen, in the free states of Italy, men, called into authority for the sake
of preserving the people, honest themselves at first, and then, drunk with
the sudden rank, betraying the very cause which had exalted them? True,
those men were chiefs and nobles; but are plebeians less human? Howbeit I
have heard and seen enough from afar, - I will now approach, and examine
the man himself."
While thus soliloquizing, Adrian but little noted the various passengers,
who, more and more rarely as the evening waned, hastened homeward. Among
these were two females, who now alone shared with Adrian the long and
gloomy street into which he had entered. The moon was already bright in
the heavens, and, as the women passed the cavalier with a light and quick
step, the younger one turned back and regarded him by the clear light with
an eager, yet timid glance.
"Why dost thou tremble, my pretty one!" said her companion, who might have
told some five-and-forty years, and whose garb and voice bespoke her of
inferior rank to the younger female. "The streets seem quiet enough now,
and, the Virgin be praised! we are not so far from home either."
"Oh, Benedetta, it is he! it is the young signor - it is Adrian!"
"That is fortunate," said the nurse, for such was her condition, "since
they say he is as bold as a Northman: and as the Palazzo Colonna is not
very far from hence, we shall be within reach of his aid should we want it:
that is to say, sweet one, if you will walk a little slower than you have
yet done."
The young lady slackened her pace, and sighed.
"He is certainly very handsome," quoth the nurse: "but thou must not think
more of him; he is too far above thee for marriage, and for aught else,
thou art too honest, and thy brother too proud - "
"And thou, Benedetta, art too quick with thy tongue. How canst thou talk
thus, when thou knowest he hath never, since, at least, I was a mere child,
even addressed me: nay, he scarce knows of my very existence. He, the
Lord Adrian di Castello, dream of the poor Irene! The mere thought is
madness!"
"Then why," said the nurse, briskly, "dost thou dream of him?"
Her companion sighed again more deeply than at first.
"Holy St. Catherine!" continued Benedetta, "if there were but one man in
the world, I would die single ere I would think of him, until, at least, he
had kissed my hand twice, and left it my own fault if it were not my lips
instead."
The young lady still replied not.
"But how didst thou contrive to love him?" asked the nurse. "Thou canst
not have seen him very often: it is but some four or five weeks since his
return to Rome."
"Oh, how dull art thou?" answered the fair Irene. "Have I not told thee
again and again, that I loved him six years ago?"
"When thou hadst told but thy tenth year, and a doll would have been thy
most suitable lover! As I am a Christian, Signora, thou hast made good use
of thy time.
"And during his absence," continued the girl, fondly, yet sadly, "did I not
hear him spoken of, and was not the mere sound of his name like a love-gift
that bade me remember? And when they praised him, have I not rejoiced? and
when they blamed him, have I not resented? and when they said that his
lance was victorious in the tourney, did I not weep with pride? and when
they whispered that his vows were welcome in the bower, wept I not as
fervently with grief? Have not the six years of his absence been a dream,
and was not his return a waking into light - a morning of glory and the
sun? and I see him now in the church when he wots not of me; and on his
happy steed as he passes by my lattice: and is not that enough of
happiness for love?"
"But if he loves not thee?"
"Fool! I ask not that; - nay, I know not if I wish it. Perhaps I would
rather dream of him, such as I would have him, than know him for what he
is. He might be unkind, or ungenerous, or love me but little; rather would
I not be loved at all, than loved coldly, and eat away my heart by
comparing it with his. I can love him now as something abstract, unreal,
and divine: but what would be my shame, my grief, if I were to find him
less than I have imagined! Then, indeed, my life would have been wasted;
then, indeed, the beauty of the earth would be gone!"
The good nurse was not very capable of sympathizing with sentiments like
these. Even had their characters been more alike, their disparity of age
would have rendered such sympathy impossible. What but youth can echo back
the soul of youth - all the music of its wild vanities and romantic
follies? The good nurse did not sympathize with the sentiments of her
young lady, but she sympathised with the deep earnestness with which they
were expressed. She thought it wondrous silly, but wondrous moving; she
wiped her eyes with the corner of her veil, and hoped in her secret heart
that her young charge would soon get a real husband to put such
unsubstantial fantasies out of her head. There was a short pause in their
conversation, when, just where two streets crossed one another, there was
heard a loud noise of laughing voices and trampling feet. Torches were
seen on high affronting the pale light of the moon; and, at a very short
distance from the two females, in the cross street, advanced a company of
seven or eight men, bearing, as seen by the red light of the torches, the
formidable badge of the Orsini.
Amidst the other disorders of the time, it was no unfrequent custom for the
younger or more dissolute of the nobles, in small and armed companies, to
parade the streets at night, seeking occasion for a licentious gallantry
among the cowering citizens, or a skirmish at arms with some rival
stragglers of their own order. Such a band had Irene and her companion now
chanced to encounter.
"Holy mother!" cried Benedetta, turning pale, and half running, "what curse
has befallen us? How could we have been so foolish as to tarry so late at
the lady Nina's! Run, Signora, - run, or we shall fall into their hands!"
But the advice of Benedetta came too late, - the fluttering garments of the
women had been already descried: in a moment more they were surrounded by
the marauders. A rude hand tore aside Benedetta's veil, and at sight of
features, which, if time had not spared, it could never very materially
injure, the rough aggressor cast the poor nurse against the wall with a
curse, which was echoed by a loud laugh from his comrades.
"Thou hast a fine fortune in faces Giuseppe!"
"Yes; it was but the other day that he seized on a girl of sixty."
"And then, by way of improving her beauty, cut her across the face with his
dagger, because she was not sixteen!"
"Hush, fellows! whom have we here?" said the chief of the party, a man
richly dressed, and who, though bordering upon middle age, had only the
more accustomed himself to the excesses of youth; as he spoke, he snatched
the trembling Irene from the grasp of his followers. "Ho, there! the
torches! Oh che bella faccia! what blushes - what eyes! - nay, look not
down, pretty one; thou needst not be ashamed to win the love of an Orsini -
yes; know the triumph thou hast achieved - it is Martino di Porto who bids
thee smile upon him!"
"For the blest Mother's sake release me! Nay, sir, this must not be - I am
not unfriended - this insult shall not pass!"
"Hark to her silver chiding; it is better than my best hound's bay! This
adventure is worth a month's watching. What! will you not come? - restive
- shrieks too! - Francesco, Pietro, ye are the gentlest of the band. Wrap
her veil around her, - muffle this music; - so! bear her before me to the
palace, and tomorrow, sweet one, thou shalt go home with a basket of
florins which thou mayest say thou hast bought at market."
But Irene's shrieks, Irene's struggles, had already brought succour to her
side, and, as Adrian approached the spot, the nurse flung herself on her
knees before him.
"Oh, sweet signor, for Christ's grace save us! Deliver my young mistress -
her friends love you well! We are all for the Colonna, my lord; yes,
indeed, all for the Colonna! Save the kin of your own clients, gracious
signor!"
It is enough that she is a woman," answered Adrian, adding, between his
teeth, "and that an Orsini is her assailant." He strode haughtily into the
thickest of the group; the servitors laid hands on their swords, but gave
way before him as they recognised his person; he reached the two men who
had already seized Irene; in one moment he struck the foremost to the
ground, in another, he had passed his left arm round the light and slender
form of the maiden, and stood confronting the Orsini with his drawn blade,
which, however, he pointed to the ground.
"For shame, my lord - for shame!" said he, indignantly. "Will you force
Rome to rise, to a man, against our order? Vex not too far the lion,
chained though he be; war against us if ye will! draw your blades upon men,
though they be of your own race, and speak your own tongue: but if ye
would sleep at nights, and not dread the avenger's gripe, - if ye would
walk the market-place secure, - wrong not a Roman woman! Yes, the very
walls around us preach to you the punishment of such a deed: for that
offence fell the Tarquins, - for that offence were swept away the
Decemvirs, - for that offence, if ye rush upon it, the blood of your whole
house may flow like water. Cease, then, my lord, from this mad attempt, so
unworthy your great name; cease, and thank even a Colonna that he has come
between you and a moment's frenzy!"
So noble, so lofty were the air and gesture of Adrian, as he thus spoke,
that even the rude servitors felt a thrill of approbation and remorse - not
so Martino di Porto. He had been struck with the beauty of the prey thus
suddenly snatched from him; he had been accustomed to long outrage and to
long impunity; the very sight, the very voice of a Colonna, was a blight to
his eye and a discord to his ear: what, then, when a Colonna interfered
with his lusts, and rebuked his vices?
"Pedant!" he cried, with quivering lips, "prate not to me of thy vain
legends and gossip's tales! think not to snatch from me my possession in
another, when thine own life is in my hands. Unhand the maiden! throw down
thy sword! return home without further parley, or, by my faith, and the
blades of my followers - (look at them well!) - thou diest!"
"Signor," said Adrian, calmly, yet while he spoke he retreated gradually
with his fair burthen towards the neighbouring wall, so as at least to
leave only his front exposed to those fearful odds: "Thou will not so
misuse the present chances, and wrong thyself in men's mouths, as to attack
with eight swords even thy hereditary foe, thus cumbered, too, as he is.
But - nay hold! - if thou art so proposed, bethink thee well, one cry of my
voice would soon turn the odds against thee. Thou art now in the quarter
of my tribe; thou art surrounded by the habitations of the Colonna: yon
palace swarms with men who sleep not, save with harness on their backs; men
whom my voice can reach even now, but from whom, if they once taste of
blood, it could not save thee!"
"He speaks true, noble Lord," said one of the band: "we have wandered too
far out of our beat; we are in their very den; the palace of old Stephen
Colonna is within call; and, to my knowledge," added he, in a whisper,
"eighteen fresh men-of-arms - ay, and Northmen too - marched through its
gates this day."
"Were there eight hundred men at arm's length," answered Martino furiously,
"I would not be thus bearded amidst mine own train! Away with yon woman!
To the attack! to the attack!"
Thus saying, he made a desperate lunge at Adrian, who, having kept his eye
cautiously on the movements of his enemy, was not unprepared for the
assault. As he put aside the blade with his own, he shouted with a loud
voice - "Colonna! to the rescue, Colonna!"
Nor had it been without an ulterior object that the acute and self-
controlling mind of Adrian had hitherto sought to prolong the parley. Even
as he first addressed Orsini, he had perceived, by the moonlight, the
glitter of armour upon two men advancing from the far end of the street,
and judged at once, by the neighbourhood, that they must be among the
mercenaries of the Colonna.
Gently he suffered the form of Irene, which now, for she had swooned with
the terror, pressed too heavily upon him, to slide from his left arm, and
standing over her form, while sheltered from behind by the wall which he
had so warily gained, he contented himself with parrying the blows hastily
aimed at him, without attempting to retaliate. Few of the Romans, however
accustomed to such desultory warfare, were then well and dexterously
practised in the use of arms; and the science Adrian had acquired in the
schools of the martial north, befriended him now, even against such odds.
It is true, indeed, that the followers of Orsini did not share the fury of
their lord; partly afraid of the consequence to themselves should the blood
of so highborn a signor be spilt by their hands, partly embarrassed with
the apprehension that they should see themselves suddenly beset with the
ruthless hirelings so close within hearing, they struck but aimless and
random blows, looking every moment behind and aside, and rather prepared
for flight than slaughter. Echoing the cry of "Colonna," poor Benedetta
fled at the first clash of swords. She ran down the dreary street still
shrieking that cry, and passed the very portals of Stephen's palace (where
some grim forms yet loitered) without arresting her steps there, so great
were her confusion and terror.
Meanwhile, the two armed men, whom Adrian had descried, proceeded leisurely
up the street. The one was of a rude and common mould, his arms and his
complexion testified his calling and race; and by the great respect he paid
to his companion, it was evident that that companion was no native of
Italy. For the brigands of the north, while they served the vices of the
southern, scarce affected to disguise their contempt for his cowardice.
The companion of the brigand was a man of a martial, yet easy air. He wore
no helmet, but a cap of crimson velvet, set off with a white plume; on his
mantle, or surcoat, which was of scarlet, was wrought a broad white cross,
both at back and breast; and so brilliant was the polish of his corselet,
that, as from time to time the mantle waved aside and exposed it to the
moonbeams, it glittered like light itself.
"Nay, Rodolf," said he, "if thou hast so good a lot of it here with that
hoary schemer, Heaven forbid that I should wish to draw thee back again to
our merry band. But tell me - this Rienzi - thinkest thou he has any solid
and formidable power?"
"Pshaw! noble chieftain, not a whit of it. He pleases the mob; but as for
the nobles, they laugh at him; and, as for the soldiers, he has no money!"
"He pleases the mob, then!"
"Ay, that doth he; and when he speaks aloud to them, all the roar of Rome
is hushed."
"Humph! - when nobles are hated, and soldiers are bought, a mob may, in any
hour, become the master. An honest people and a weak mob, - a corrupt
people and a strong mob," said the other, rather to himself than to his
comrade, and scarce, perhaps, conscious of the eternal truth of his
aphorism. "He is no mere brawler, this Rienzi, I suspect - I must see to
it. Hark! what noise is that? By the Holy Sepulchre, it is the ring of
our own metal!"
"And that cry - 'a Colonna!'" exclaimed Rodolf. "Pardon me, master, - I
must away to the rescue!"
"Ay, it is the duty of thy hire; run; - yet stay, I will accompany thee,
gratis for once, and from pure passion for mischief. By this hand, there
is no music like clashing steel!"
Still Adrian continued gallantly and unwounded to defend himself, though
his arm now grew tired, his breath well-nigh spent, and his eyes began to
wink and reel beneath the glare of the tossing torches. Orsini himself,
exhausted by his fury, had paused for an instant, fronting his foe with a
heaving breast and savage looks, when, suddenly, his followers exclaimed,
"Fly! fly! - the bandits approach - we are surrounded!" - and two of the
servitors, without further parley, took fairly to their heels. The other
five remained irresolute, and waiting but the command of their master, when
he of the white plume, whom I have just described, thrust himself into the
melee.
"What! gentles," said he, "have ye finished already? Nay, let us not mar
the sport; begin again, I beseech you. What are the odds? Ho! six to one!
- nay, no wonder that ye have waited for fairer play. See, we two will
take the weaker side. Now then, let us begin again."
"Insolent!" cried the Orsini. "Knowest thou him whom thou addressest thus
arrogantly? - I am Martino di Porto. Who art thou?"
"Walter de Montreal, gentleman of Provence, and Knight of St. John!"
answered the other, carelessly.
At that redoubted name - the name of one of the boldest warriors, and of
the most accomplished freebooter of his time - even Martino's cheek grew
pale, and his followers uttered a cry of terror.
"And this, my comrade," continued the Knight, "for we may as well complete
the introduction, is probably better known to you than I am, gentles of
Rome; and you doubtless recognize in him Rodolf of Saxony, a brave man and
a true, where he is properly paid for his services."
"Signor," said Adrian to his enemy, who, aghast and dumb, remained staring
vacantly at the two new-comers, "you are now in my power. See, our own
people, too, are approaching."
And, indeed, from the palace of Stephen Colonna, torches began to blaze,
and armed men were seen rapidly advancing to the spot.
"Go home in peace, and if, tomorrow, or any day more suitable to thee, thou
wilt meet me alone, and lance to lance, as is the wont of the knights of
the empire; or with band to band, and man for man, as is rather the Roman
custom; I will not fail thee - there is my gage."
"Nobly spoken," said Montreal; "and, if ye choose the latter, by your
leave, I will be one of the party."
Martino answered not; he took up the glove, thrust it in his bosom, and
strode hastily away; only, when he had got some paces down the street, he
turned back, and, shaking his clenched hand at Adrian, exclaimed, in a
voice trembling with impotent rage - "Faithful to death!"
The words made one of the mottoes of the Orsini; and, whatever its earlier
signification, had long passed into a current proverb, to signify their
hatred to the Colonna.
Adrian, now engaged in raising, and attempting to revive Irene, who was
still insensible, disdainfully left it to Montreal to reply.
"I doubt not, Signor," said the latter, coolly, "that thou wilt be faithful
to Death: for Death, God wot, is the only contract which men, however
ingenious, are unable to break or evade."
"Pardon me, gentle Knight," said Adrian, looking up from his charge, "if I
do not yet give myself wholly to gratitude. I have learned enough of
knighthood to feel thou wilt acknowledge that my first duty is here - "
"Oh, a lady, then, was the cause of the quarrel! I need not ask who was in
the right, when a man brings to the rivalry such odds as yon caitiff."
"Thou mistakest a little, Sir Knight, - it is but a lamb I have rescued
from the wolf."
"For thy own table! Be it so!" returned the Knight, gaily.
Adrian smiled gravely, and shook his head in denial. In truth, he was
somewhat embarrassed by his situation. Though habitually gallant, he was
not willing to expose to misconstruction the disinterestedness of his late
conduct, and (for it was his policy to conciliate popularity) to sully the
credit which his bravery would give him among the citizens, by conveying
Irene (whose beauty, too, as yet, he had scarcely noted) to his own
dwelling; and yet, in her present situation, there was no alternative. She
evinced no sign of life. He knew not her home, nor parentage. Benedetta
had vanished. He could not leave her in the streets; he could not resign
her to the care of another; and, as she lay now upon his breast, he felt
her already endeared to him, by that sense of protection which is so
grateful to the human heart. He briefly, therefore, explained to those now
gathered round him, his present situation, and the cause of the past
conflict; and bade the torch-bearers precede him to his home.
"You, Sir Knight," added he, turning to Montreal, "if not already more
pleasantly lodged, will, I trust, deign to be my guest?"
"Thanks, Signor," answered Montreal, maliciously, "but I, also, perhaps,
have my own affairs to watch over. Adieu! I shall seek you at the
earliest occasion. Fair night, and gentle dreams!
'Robers Bertrams qui estoit tors
Mais a ceval estoit mult fors
Cil avoit o lui grans effors
Multi ot 'homes per lui mors.'"
("An ill-favoured man, but a stout horseman, was Robert Bertram. Great
deeds were his, and many a man died by his hand.")
And, muttering this rugged chant from the old "Roman de Rou," the
Provencal, followed by Rodolf, pursued his way.
The vast extent of Rome, and the thinness of its population, left many of
the streets utterly deserted. The principal nobles were thus enabled to
possess themselves of a wide range of buildings, which they fortified,
partly against each other, partly against the people; their numerous
relatives and clients lived around them, forming, as it were, petty courts
and cities in themselves.
Almost opposite to the principal palace of the Colonna (occupied by his
powerful kinsman, Stephen) was the mansion of Adrian. Heavily swung back
the massive gates at his approach; he ascended the broad staircase, and
bore his charge into an apartment which his tastes had decorated in a
fashion not as yet common in that age. Ancient statues and busts were
arranged around; the pictured arras of Lombardy decorated the walls, and
covered the massive seats.
"What ho! Lights here, and wine!" cried the Seneschal.
"Leave us alone," said Adrian, gazing passionately on the pale cheek of
Irene, as he now, by the clear light, beheld all its beauty; and a sweet
yet burning hope crept into his heart.
