Chapter 9.VI. The Events Gather to the End.
While this the state of the camp of the besiegers, Luca di Savelli and
Stefanello Colonna were closeted with a stranger, who had privately entered
Palestrina on the night before the Romans pitched their tents beneath its
walls. This visitor, who might have somewhat passed his fortieth year, yet
retained, scarcely diminished, the uncommon beauty of form and countenance
for which his youth had been remarkable. But it was no longer that
character of beauty which has been described in his first introduction to
the reader. It was no longer the almost woman delicacy of feature and
complexion, or the highborn polish, and graceful suavity of manner, which
distinguished Walter de Montreal: a life of vicissitude and war had at
length done its work. His bearing was now abrupt and imperious, as that of
one accustomed to rule wild spirits, and he had exchanged the grace of
persuasion for the sternness of command. His athletic form had grown more
spare and sinewy, and instead of the brow half shaded by fair and
clustering curls, his forehead, though yet but slightly wrinkled, was
completely bald at the temples; and by its unwonted height, increased the
dignity and manliness of his aspect. The bloom of his complexion was
faded, less by outward exposure than inward thought, into a bronzed and
settled paleness; and his features seemed more marked and prominent, as the
flesh had somewhat sunk from the contour of the cheek. Yet the change
suited the change of age and circumstance; and if the Provencal now less
realised the idea of the brave and fair knight-errant, he but looked the
more what the knight-errant had become - the sagacious counsellor and the
mighty leader.
"You must be aware," said Montreal, continuing a discourse which appeared
to have made great impression on his companions, "that in this contest
between yourselves and the Senator, I alone hold the balance. Rienzi is
utterly in my power - my brothers, the leaders of his army; myself, his
creditor. It rests with me to secure him on the throne, or to send him to
the scaffold. I have but to give the order, and the Grand Company enter
Rome; but without their agency, methinks if you keep faith with me, our
purpose can be effected."
"In the meanwhile, Palestrina is besieged by your brothers!" said
Stefanello, sharply.
"But they have my orders to waste their time before its walls. Do you not
see, that by this very siege, fruitless, as, if I will, it shall be, Rienzi
loses fame abroad, and popularity in Rome."
"Sir Knight," said Luca di Savelli, "you speak as a man versed in the
profound policy of the times; and under all the circumstances which menace
us, your proposal seems but fitting and reasonable. On the one hand, you
undertake to restore us and the other Barons to Rome; and to give Rienzi to
the Staircase of the Lion - "
"Not so, not so," replied Montreal, quickly. "I will consent either so to
subdue and cripple his power, as to render him a puppet in our hands, a
mere shadow of authority - or, if his proud spirit chafe at its cage, to
give it once more liberty amongst the wilds of Germany. I would fetter or
banish him, but not destroy; unless (added Montreal, after a moment's
pause) fate absolutely drives us to it. Power should not demand victims;
but to secure it, victims may be necessary."
"I understand your refinements," said Luca di Savelli, with his icy smile,
"and am satisfied. The Barons once restored, our palaces once more manned,
and I am willing to take the chance of the Senator's longevity. This
service you promise to effect?"
"I do."
"And, in return, you demand our assent to your enjoying the rank of Podesta
for five years?"
"You say right."
"I, for one, accede to the terms," said the Savelli: "there is my hand; I
am wearied of these brawls, even amongst ourselves, and think that a
Foreign Ruler may best enforce order: the more especially, if like you,
Sir Knight, one whose birth and renown are such as to make him comprehend
the difference between Barons and Plebeians."
"For my part," said Stefanello, "I feel that we have but a choice of evils
- I like not a foreign Podesta; but I like a plebeian Senator still less; -
there too is my hand, Sir Knight."
"Noble Signors," said Montreal, after a short pause, and turning his
piercing gaze from one to the other with great deliberation, "our compact
is sealed; one word by way of codicil. Walter de Montreal is no Count
Pepin of Minorbino! Once before, little dreaming, I own, that the victory
would be so facile, I intrusted your cause and mine to a deputy; your cause
he promoted, mine he lost. He drove out the Tribune, and then suffered the
Barons to banish himself. This time I see to my own affairs; and, mark
you, I have learned in the Grand Company one lesson; viz. never to pardon
spy or deserter, of whatever rank. Your forgiveness for the hint. Let us
change the theme. So ye detain in your fortress my old friend the Baron di
Castello?"
"Ay," said Luca di Savelli; for Stefanello, stung by Montreal's threat,
which he dared not openly resent, preserved a sullen silence; "Ay, he is
one noble the less to the Senator's council."
"You act wisely. I know his views and temper; at present dangerous to our
interests. Yet use him well, I entreat you; he may hereafter serve us.
And now, my Lords, my eyes are weary, suffer me to retire. Pleasant dreams
of the New Revolution to us all!"
"By your leave, noble Montreal, we will attend you to your couch," said
Luca di Savelli.
"By my troth, and ye shall not. I am no Tribune to have great Signors for
my pages; but a plain gentleman, and a hardy soldier: your attendants will
conduct me to whatever chamber your hospitality assigns to one who could
sleep soundly beneath the rudest hedge under your open skies."
Savelli, however, insisted on conducting the Podesta that was to be, to his
apartment. He then returned to Stefanello, whom he found pacing the saloon
with long and disordered strides.
"What have we done, Savelli?" said he, quickly; "sold our city to a
barbarian!"
"Sold!" said Savelli; "to my mind it is the other part of the contract in
which we have played our share. We have bought, Colonna, not sold - bought
our lives from yon army; bought our power, our fortunes, our castles, from
the Demagogue Senator; bought, what is better than all, triumph and
revenge. Tush, Colonna, see you not that if we had balked this great
warrior, we had perished? Leagued with the Senator, the Grand Company
would have marched to Rome; and, whether Montreal assisted or murdered
Rienzi, (for methinks he is a Romulus, who would brook no Remus), we had
equally been undone. Now, we have made our own terms, and our shares are
equal. Nay, the first steps to be taken are in our favour. Rienzi is to
be snared, and we are to enter Rome."
"And then the Provencal is to be Despot of the city."
"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".
