Rienzi, the Last of the Roman Tribunes by Baron Edward Bulwer Lytton Lytton (best summer reads .txt) 📗

upon a band of the retainers of the Savelli. My insignia, as a Colonna, misled them. I learned that this very hour some of your enemies are within the city, the rest are on their march—the people themselves arm against you. In the obscurer streets I passed through, the mob were already forming. They took me for thy foe, and shouted. I came hither—thy sentries have vanished. The private door below is unbarred and open. Not a soul seems left in thy palace. Haste—fly—save thyself!—Where is Irene?”

“The Capitol deserted!—impossible!” cried Rienzi. He strode across the chambers to the ante-room, where his night-guard usually waited—it was empty! He passed hastily to Villani’s room—it was untenanted! He would have passed farther, but the doors were secured without. It was evident that all egress had been cut off, save by the private door below,—and that had been left open to admit his murtherers!

He returned to his room—Nina had already gone to rouse and prepare Irene, whose chamber was on the other side, within one of their own.

“Quick, Senator!” said Adrian. “Methinks there is yet time. We must make across to the Tiber. I have stationed my faithful squires and Northmen there. A boat waits us.”

“Hark!” interrupted Rienzi, whose senses had of late been preternaturally quickened. “I hear a distant shout—a familiar shout, ‘Viva ‘l Popolo!’ Why, so say I! These must be friends.”

“Deceive not thyself; thou hast scarce a friend at Rome.”

“Hist!” said Rienzi, in a whisper; “save Nina—save Irene. I cannot accompany thee.”

“Art thou mad?”

“No! but fearless. Besides, did I accompany, I might but destroy you all. Were I found with you, you would be massacred with me. Without me ye are safe. Yes, even the Senator’s wife and sister have provoked no revenge. Save them, noble Colonna! Cola di Rienzi puts his trust in God alone!”

By this time Nina had returned; Irene with her. Afar was heard the tramp—steady—slow—gathering—of the fatal multitude.

“Now, Cola,” said Nina, with a bold and cheerful air, and she took her husband’s arm, while Adrian had already found his charge in Irene.

“Yes, now, Nina!” said Rienzi; “at length we part! If this is my last hour—in my last hour I pray God to bless and shield thee! for verily, thou hast been my exceeding solace—provident as a parent, tender as a child, the smile of my hearth, the—the—”

Rienzi was almost unmanned. Emotions, deep, conflicting, unspeakably fond and grateful, literally choked his speech.

“What!” cried Nina, clinging to his breast, and parting her hair from her eyes, as she sought his averted face. “Part!—never! This is my place—all Rome shall not tear me from it!”

Adrian, in despair, seized her hand, and attempted to drag her thence.

“Touch me not, sir!” said Nina, waving her arm with angry majesty, while her eyes sparkled as a lioness, whom the huntsmen would sever from her young. “I am the wife of Cola di Rienzi, the Great Senator of Rome, and by his side will I live and die!”

“Take her hence: quick!—quick! I hear the crowd advancing.”

Irene tore herself from Adrian, and fell at the feet of Rienzi—she clasped his knees.

“Come, my brother, come! Why lose these precious moments? Rome forbids you to cast away a life in which her very self is bound up.”

“Right, Irene; Rome is bound up with me, and we will rise or fall together!—no more!”

“You destroy us all!” said Adrian, with generous and impatient warmth. “A few minutes more, and we are lost. Rash man! it is not to fall by an infuriate mob that you have been preserved from so many dangers.”

“I believe it,” said the Senator, as his tall form seemed to dilate as with the greatness of his own soul. “I shall triumph yet! Never shall mine enemies—never shall posterity say that a second time Rienzi abandoned Rome! Hark! ‘Viva ‘l Popolo!’ still the cry of ‘THE PEOPLE.’ That cry scares none but tyrants! I shall triumph and survive!”

“And I with thee!” said Nina, firmly. Rienzi paused a moment, gazed on his wife, passionately clasped her to his heart, kissed her again and again, and then said, “Nina, I command thee,—Go!”

“Never!”

He paused. Irene’s face, drowned in tears, met his eyes.

“We will all perish with you,” said his sister; “you only, Adrian, you leave us!”

“Be it so,” said the Knight, sadly; “we will all remain,” and he desisted at once from further effort.

There was a dead but short pause, broken but by a convulsive sob from Irene. The tramp of the raging thousands sounded fearfully distinct. Rienzi seemed lost in thought—then lifting his head, he said, calmly, “ye have triumphed—I join ye—I but collect these papers, and follow you. Quick, Adrian—save them!” and he pointed meaningly to Nina.

Waiting no other hint, the young Colonna seized Nina in his strong grasp—with his left hand he supported Irene, who with terror and excitement was almost insensible. Rienzi relieved him of the lighter load—he took his sister in his arms, and descended the winding stairs. Nina remained passive—she heard her husband’s step behind, it was enough for her—she but turned once to thank him with her eyes. A tall Northman clad in armour stood at the open door. Rienzi placed Irene, now perfectly lifeless, in the soldier’s arms, and kissed her pale cheek in silence.

“Quick, my Lord,” said the Northman, “on all sides they come!” So saying, he bounded down the descent with his burthen. Adrian followed with Nina; the Senator paused one moment, turned back, and was in his room ere Adrian was aware that he had vanished.

Hastily he drew the coverlid from his bed, fastened it to the casement bars, and by its aid dropped (at a distance of several feet) into the balcony below. “I will not die like a rat,” said he, “in the trap they have set for me! The whole crowd shall, at least, see and hear me.”

This was the work of a moment.

Meanwhile, Nina had scarcely proceeded six paces, before she discovered that she was alone with Adrian.

“Ha! Cola!” she cried, “where is he? he has gone!”

“Take heart, Lady, he has returned but for some secret papers he has forgotten. He will follow us anon.”

“Let us wait, then.”

“Lady,” said Adrian, grinding his teeth, “hear you not the crowd?—on, on!” and he flew with a swifter step. Nina struggled in his grasp—Love gave her the strength of despair. With a wild laugh she broke from him. She flew back—the door was closed—but unbarred—her trembling hands lingered a moment round the spring. She opened it, drew the heavy bolt across the panels, and frustrated all attempt from Adrian to regain her. She was on the stairs,—she was in the room. Rienzi was gone! She fled, shrieking his name,