erior, the wide and elevated space of the Capitol
broke upon his sight. The sun was slowly setting over an immense
multitude that overspread the spot, and high above a scaffold raised
in the centre, shone, to the western ray, the great Gonfalon of Rome,
studded with silver stars.

Adrian reined in his steed. "This," thought he, "is scarcely the hour
thus publicly to confer with Rienzi; yet fain would I, mingled with the
crowd, judge how far his power is supported, and in what manner it is
borne." Musing a little, he withdrew into one of the obscurer streets,
then wholly deserted, surrendered his horse to his squire, and,
borrowing of the latter his morion and long mantle, passed to one of
the more private entrances of the Capitol, and, enveloped in his cloak,
stood--one of the crowd--intent upon all that followed.

"And what," he asked of a plainly dressed citizen, "is the cause of this
assembly?"

"Heard you not the proclamation?" returned the other in some surprise.
"Do you not know that the Council of the City and the Guilds of the
Artisans have passed a vote to proffer to Rienzi the title of king of
Rome?"

The Knight of the Emperor, to whom belonged that august dignity, drew
back in dismay.

"And," resumed the citizen, "this assembly of all the lesser Barons,
Councillors, and Artificers, is convened to hear the answer."

"Of course it will be assent?"

"I know not--there are strange rumours; hitherto the Liberator has
concealed his sentiments."

At that instant a loud flourish of martial music announced the approach
of Rienzi. The crowd tumultuously divided, and presently, from the
Palace of the Capitol to the scaffold, passed Rienzi, still in complete
armour, save the helmet, and with him, in all the pomp of his episcopal
robes, Raimond of Orvietto.

As soon as Rienzi had ascended the platform, and was thus made visible
to the whole concourse, no words can suffice to paint the enthusiasm
of the scene--the shouts, the gestures, the tears, the sobs, the wild
laughter, in which the sympathy of those lively and susceptible children
of the South broke forth. The windows and balconies of the Palace were
thronged with the wives and daughters of the lesser Barons and more
opulent citizens; and Adrian, with a slight start, beheld amongst
them,--pale--agitated--tearful,--the lovely face of his Irene--a face
that even thus would have outshone all present, but for one by her side,
whose beauty the emotion of the h