Rodolf nodded,
without answer, slid the money into his bosom, and stalked away into the
thickest of the throng. But, even ere he arrived, a sudden reaction had
taken place.

The young cavalier, left alone in that spot, followed with his eyes the
receding form of the mercenary, as the sun, now setting, shone slant
upon his glittering casque, and said bitterly to himself--"Unfortunate
city, fountain of all mighty memories--fallen queen of a thousand
nations--how art thou decrowned and spoiled by thy recreant and apostate
children! Thy nobles divided against themselves--thy people cursing thy
nobles--thy priests, who should sow peace, planting discord--the father
of thy church deserting thy stately walls, his home a refuge, his mitre
a fief, his court a Gallic village--and we! we, of the haughtiest
blood of Rome--we, the sons of Caesars, and of the lineage of demigods,
guarding an insolent and abhorred state by the swords of hirelings, who
mock our cowardice while they receive our pay--who keep our citizens
slaves, and lord it over their very masters in return! Oh, that we, the
hereditary chiefs of Rome, could but feel--oh, that we could but find,
our only legitimate safeguard in the grateful hearts of our countrymen!"

So deeply did the young Adrian feel the galling truth of all he uttered,
that the indignant tears rolled down his cheeks as he spoke. He felt no
shame as he dashed them away; for that weakness which weeps for a fallen
race, is the tenderness not of women but of angels.

As he turned slowly to quit the spot, his steps were suddenly arrested
by a loud shout: "Rienzi! Rienzi!" smote the air. From the walls of the
Capitol to the bed of the glittering Tiber, that name echoed far and
wide; and, as the shout died away, it was swallowed up in a silence so
profound, so universal, so breathless, that you might have imagined that
death itself had fallen over the city. And now, at the extreme end of
the crowd, and elevated above their level, on vast fragments of stone
which had been dragged from the ruins of Rome in one of the late
frequent tumults between contending factions, to serve as a barricade
for citizens against citizens,--on these silent memorials of the past
grandeur, the present misery, of Rome, stood that extraordinary man,
who, above all his race, was the most penetrated with the glories of the
one time, with the degradation of the other.

From the distance at which he stood from the scene, Adrian cou