Chapter 10.III. Montreal's Banquet.
Some few days after the date of the last chapter, Rienzi received news from
Rome, which seemed to produce in him a joyous and elated excitement. His
troops still lay before Palestrina, and still the banners of the Barons
waved over its unconquered walls. In truth, the Italians employed half
their time in brawls amongst themselves; the Velletritrani had feuds with
the people of Tivoli, and the Romans were still afraid of conquering the
Barons; - "The hornet," said they, "stings worse after he is dead; and
neither an Orsini, a Savelli, nor a Colonna, was ever known to forgive."
Again and again had the captains of his army assured the indignant Senator
that the fortress was impregnable, and that time and money were idly wasted
upon the siege. Rienzi knew better, but he concealed his thoughts.
He now summoned to his tent the brothers of Provence, and announced to them
his intention of returning instantly to Rome. "The mercenaries shall
continue the siege under our Lieutenant, and you, with my Roman Legion,
shall accompany me. Your brother, Sir Walter, and I, both want your
presence; we have affairs to arrange between us. After a few days I shall
raise recruits in the city, and return."
This was what the brothers desired; they approved, with evident joy, the
Senator's proposition.
Rienzi next sent for the lieutenant of his bodyguard, the same Riccardo
Annibaldi whom the reader will remember in the earlier part of this work,
as the antagonist of Montreal's lance. This young man - one of the few
nobles who espoused the cause of the Senator - had evinced great courage
and military ability, and promised fair (should Fate spare his life (It
appears that this was the same Annibaldi who was afterwards slain in an
affray: - Petrarch lauds his valour and laments his fate.)) to become one
of the best Captains of his time.
"Dear Annibaldi," said Rienzi; "at length I can fulfil the project on which
we have privately conferred. I take with me to Rome the two Provencal
Captains - I leave you chief of the army. Palestrina will yield now - eh!
- ha, ha, ha! - Palestrina will yield now!"
"By my right hand, I think so, Senator," replied Annibaldi. "These
foreigners have hitherto only stirred up quarrels amongst ourselves, and if
not cowards are certainly traitors!"
"Hush, hush, hush! Traitors! The learned Arimbaldo, the brave Brettone,
traitors! Fie on it! No, no; they are very excellent, honourable men, but
not lucky in the camp; - not lucky in the camp; - better speed to them in
the city! And now to business."
The Senator then detailed to Annibaldi the plan he himself had formed for
taking the town, and the military skill of Annibaldi at once recognised its
feasibility.
With his Roman troop, and Montreal's brothers, one at either hand, Rienzi
then departed to Rome.
That night Montreal gave a banquet to Pandulfo di Guido, and to certain of
the principal citizens, whom one by one he had already sounded, and found
hollow at heart to the cause of the Senator.
Pandulfo sate at the right hand of the Knight of St. John, and Montreal
lavished upon him the most courteous attentions.
"Pledge me in this - it is from the Vale of Chiana, near Monte Pulciano,"
said Montreal. "I think I have heard bookmen say (you know, Signor
Pandulfo, we ought all to be bookmen now!) that the site was renowned of
old. In truth, the wine hath a racy flavour."
"I hear," said Bruttini, one of the lesser Barons, (a stanch friend to the
Colonna,) "that in this respect the innkeeper's son has put his book-
learning to some use: he knows every place where the wine grows richest."
"What! the Senator is turned wine-bibber!" said Montreal, quaffing a vast
goblet full; "that must unfit him for business - 'tis a pity."
"Verily, yes," said Pandulfo; "a man at the head of a state should be
temperate - I never drink wine unmixed."
"Ah," whispered Montreal, "if your calm good sense ruled Rome, then,
indeed, the metropolis of Italy might taste of peace. Signor Vivaldi," -
and the host turned towards a wealthy draper, - "these disturbances are bad
for trade."
"Very, very!" groaned the draper.
"The Barons are your best customers," quoth the minor noble.
"Much, much!" said the draper.
"'Tis a pity that they are thus roughly expelled," said Montreal, in a
melancholy tone. "Would it not be possible, if the Senator (I drink his
health) were less rash - less zealous, rather, - to unite free institutions
with the return of the Barons? - such should be the task of a truly wise
statesman!"
"It surely might be possible," returned Vivaldi; "the Savelli alone spend
more with me than all the rest of Rome."
"I know not if it be possible," said Bruttini; "but I do know that it is an
outrage to all decorum that an innkeeper's son should be enabled to make a
solitude of the palaces of Rome."
"It certainly seems to indicate too vulgar a desire of mob favour," said
Montreal. "However, I trust we shall harmonize all these differences.
Rienzi, perhaps, - nay, doubtless, means well!"
"I would," said Vivaldi, who had received his cue, "that we might form a
mixed constitution - Plebeians and Patricians, each in their separate
order."
"But," said Montreal, gravely, "so new an experiment would demand great
physical force."
"Why, true; but we might call in an umpire - a foreigner who had no
interest in either faction - who might protect the new Buono Stato; a
Podesta, as we have done before - Brancaleone, for instance. How well and
wisely he ruled! that was a golden age for Rome. A Podesta for ever! -
that's my theory."
"You need not seek far for the president of your council," said Montreal,
smiling at Pandulfo; "a citizen at once popular, well-born, and wealthy,
may be found at my right hand."
Pandulfo hemmed, and coloured.
Montreal proceeded. "A committee of trades might furnish an honourable
employment to Signor Vivaldi; and the treatment of all foreign affairs -
the employment of armies, &c., might be left to the Barons, with a more
open competition, Signor di Bruttini, to the Barons of the second order
than has hitherto been conceded to their birth and importance. Sirs, will
you taste the Malvoisie?"
"Still," said Vivaldi, after a pause - (Vivaldi anticipated at least the
supplying with cloth the whole of the Grand Company) - "still, such a
moderate and well-digested constitution would never be acceded to by
Rienzi."
"Why should it? what need of Rienzi?" exclaimed Bruttini. "Rienzi may take
another trip to Bohemia."
"Gently, gently," said Montreal; "I do not despair. All open violence
against the Senator would strengthen his power. No, no, humble him - admit
the Barons, and then insist on your own terms. Between the two factions
you might then establish a fitting balance. And in order to keep your new
constitution from the encroachment of either extreme, there are warriors
and knights, too, who for a certain rank in the great city of Rome would
maintain horse and foot at its service. We Ultra-Montanes are often
harshly judged; we are wanderers and Ishmaelites, solely because we have no
honourable place of rest. Now, if I - "
"Ay, if you, noble Montreal!" said Vivaldi.
The company remained hushed in breathless attention, when suddenly there
was heard - deep, solemn, muffled, - the great bell of the Capitol!
"Hark!" said Vivaldi, the bell: "It tolls for execution: an unwonted
hour!"
"Sure, the Senator has not returned!" exclaimed Pandulfo di Guido, turning
pale.
"No, no," quoth Bruttini, "it is but a robber, caught two nights ago in
Romagna. I heard that he was to die tonight."
At the word "robber," Montreal changed countenance slightly. The wine
circulated - the bell continued to toll - its suddenness over, it ceased to
alarm. Conversation flowed again.
"What were you saying, Sir Knight?" said Vivaldi.
"Why, let me think on't; - oh, speaking of the necessity of supporting a
new state by force, I said that if I - "
"Ah, that was it!" quoth Bruttini, thumping the table.
"If I were summoned to your aid - summoned, mind ye, and absolved by the
Pope's Legate of my former sins - (they weigh heavily on me, gentles) - I
would myself guard your city from foreign foe and civil disturbance, with
my gallant swordsmen. Not a Roman citizen should contribute a 'danaro' to
the cost."
"Viva Fra Moreale!" cried Bruttini; and the shout was echoed by all the
boon companions.
"Enough for me," continued Montreal, "to expiate my offences. Ye know,
gentlemen, my order is vowed to God and the Church - a warrior-monk am I!
Enough for me to expiate my offences, I say, in the defence of the Holy
City. Yet I, too, have my private and more earthly views, - who is above
them? I - the bell changes its note!"
"It is but the change that preludes execution - the poor robber is about to
die!"
Montreal crossed himself, and resumed: - "I am a knight and a noble," said
he, proudly; "the profession I have followed is that of arms; but - I will
not disguise it - mine equals have regarded me as one who has stained his
scutcheon by too reckless a pursuit of glory and of gain. I wish to
reconcile myself with my order - to purchase a new name - to vindicate
myself to the Grand Master and the Pontiff. I have had hints, gentles, -
hints, that I might best promote my interest by restoring order to the
Papal metropolis. The Legate Albornoz (here is his letter) recommends me
to keep watch upon the Senator."
"Surely," interrupted Pandulfo, "I hear steps below."
"The mob going to the robber's execution," said Bruttini; "proceed, Sir
Knight!"
"And," continued Montreal, surveying his audience before he proceeded
farther, "what think ye - (I do but ask your opinion, wiser than mine) -
what think ye, as a fitting precaution against too arbitrary a power in the
Senator - what think ye of the return of the Colonna, and the bold Barons
of Palestrina?"
"Here's to their health!" cried Vivaldi, rising.
As by a sudden impulse, the company rose. "To the health of the besieged
Barons!" was shouted aloud.
"Next, what if - (I do but humbly suggest) - what if you gave the Senator a
colleague? - it is no affront to him. It was but as yesterday that one of
the Colonna, who was Senator, received a colleague in Bertoldo Orsini."
"A most wise precaution," cried Vivaldi. "And where a colleague like
Pandulfo di Guido?"
"Viva Pandulfo di Guido!" cried the guests, and again their goblets were
drained to the bottom.
"And if in this I can assist ye by fair words with the Senator, (ye know he
owes me monies - my brothers have served him), command Walter de Montreal."
"And if fair words fail?" said Vivaldi.
"The Grand Company - (heed me, ye are the counsellors) - the Grand Company
is accustomed to forced marches!"
"Viva Fra Moreale!" cried Bruttini and Vivaldi, simultaneously. "A health
to all, my friends;" continued Bruttini; "a health to the Barons, Rome's
old friends; to Pandulfo di Guido, the Senator's new colleague, and to Fra
Moreale, Rome's new Podesta."
"The bell has ceased," said Vivaldi, putting down his goblet.
"Heaven have mercy on the robber!" added Bruttini.
Scarce had he spoken, ere three taps were heard at the door - the guests
looked at each other in dumb amaze.
"New guests!" said Montreal. "I asked some trusty friends to join us this
evening. By my faith they are welcome! Enter!"
The door opened slowly; three by three entered, in complete armour, the
guards of the Senator. On they marched, regular and speechless. They
surrounded the festive board - they filled the spacious hall, and the
lights of the banquet were reflected upon their corselets as on a wall of
steel.
Not a syllable was uttered by the feasters, they were as if turned to
stone. Presently the guards gave way, and Rienzi himself appeared. He
approached the table, and folding his arms, turned his gaze deliberately
from guest to guest, till at last, his eyes rested on Montreal, who had
also risen, and who alone of the party had recovered the amaze of the
moment.
And there, as these two men, each so celebrated, so proud, able, and
ambitious, stood, front to front - it was literally as if the rival Spirits
of Force and Intellect, Order and Strife, of the Falchion and the Fasces -
the Antagonist Principles by which empires are ruled and empires
overthrown, had met together, incarnate and opposed. They stood, both
silent, - as if fascinated by each other's gaze, - loftier in stature, and
nobler in presence than all around.
Montreal spoke first, and with a forced smile.
"Senator of Rome! - dare I believe that my poor banquet tempts thee, and
may I trust that these armed men are a graceful compliment to one to whom
arms have been a pastime?"
Rienzi answered not, but waved his hand to his guards. Montreal was seized
on the instant. Again he surveyed the guests - as a bird from the rattle-
snake, - shrunk Pandulfo di Guido, trembling, motionless, aghast, from the
glittering eye of the Senator. Slowly Rienzi raised his fatal hand towards
the unhappy citizen - Pandulfo saw, - felt his doom, - shrieked, - and fell
senseless in the arms of the soldiers.
One other and rapid glance cast the Senator round the board, and then, with
a disdainful smile, as if anxious for no meaner prey, turned away. Not a
breath had hitherto passed his lips - all had been dumb show - and his grim
silence had imparted a more freezing terror to his unguessed-for
apparition. Only, when he reached the door, he turned back, gazed upon the
Knight of St. John's bold and undaunted face, and said, almost in a
whisper, "Walter de Montreal! - you heard the death-knell!"
