tall fellow has a brave heart, and many friends, too. What think you,"
he added, in a low whisper, "is not this scene a proof that the nobles
are less safe than they wot of?"

"The beast begins to kick against the spur, Sir Knight," answered
Adrian, "a wise horseman should, in such a case, take care how he
pull the rein too tight, lest the beast should rear, and he be
overthrown--yet that is the policy thou wouldst recommend."

"You mistake," returned Montreal, "my wish was to give Rome one
sovereign instead of many tyrants,--but hark! what means that bell?"

"The ceremony is about to begin," answered Adrian. "Shall we enter the
church together?"

Seldom had a temple consecrated to God witnessed so singular a spectacle
as that which now animated the solemn space of the Lateran.

In the centre of the church, seats were raised in an amphitheatre, at
the far end of which was a scaffolding, a little higher than the rest;
below this spot, but high enough to be in sight of all the concourse,
was placed a vast table of iron, on which was graven an ancient
inscription, and bearing in its centre a clear and prominent device,
presently to be explained.

The seats were covered with cloth and rich tapestry. In the rear of
the church was drawn a purple curtain. Around the amphitheatre were the
officers of the Church, in the party-coloured liveries of the Pope. To
the right of the scaffold sate Raimond, Bishop of Orvietto, in his robes
of state. On the benches round him you saw all the marked personages of
Rome--the judges, the men of letters, the nobles, from the lofty rank
of the Savelli to the inferior grade of a Raselli. The space beyond the
amphitheatre was filled with the people, who now poured fast in, stream
after stream: all the while rang, clear and loud, the great bell of the
church.

At length, as Adrian and Montreal seated themselves at a little distance
from Raimond, the bell suddenly ceased--the murmurs of the people were
stilled--the purple curtain was withdrawn, and Rienzi came forth with
slow and majestic steps. He came--but not in his usual sombre and plain
attire. Over his broad breast he wore a vest of dazzling whiteness--a
long robe, in the ample fashion of the toga, descended to his feet
and swept the floor. On his head he wore a fold of white cloth, in the
centre of which shone a golden crown. But the crown was divided, or
cloven, as it were, by the mystic ornament of a silver sword, which,
attractin