t up under the care and guardianship of his kinsman, that
astute, yet valiant Stephen Colonna, who, of all the nobles of Rome, was
the most powerful, alike from the favour of the pope, and the number
of armed hirelings whom his wealth enabled him to maintain. Adrian
had early manifested what in that age was considered an extraordinary
disposition towards intellectual pursuits, and had acquired much of
the little that was then known of the ancient language and the ancient
history of his country.

Though Adrian was but a boy at the time in which, first presented to the
reader, he witnessed the emotions of Rienzi at the death of his brother,
his kind heart had been penetrated with sympathy for Cola's affliction,
and shame for the apathy of his kinsmen at the result of their own
feuds. He had earnestly sought the friendship of Rienzi, and, despite
his years, had become aware of the power and energy of his character.
But though Rienzi, after a short time, had appeared to think no more of
his brother's death--though he again entered the halls of the Colonna,
and shared their disdainful hospitalities, he maintained a certain
distance and reserve of manner, which even Adrian could only partially
overcome. He rejected every offer of service, favour, or promotion; and
any unwonted proof of kindness from Adrian seemed, instead of making him
more familiar, to offend him into colder distance. The easy humour and
conversational vivacity which had first rendered him a welcome guest
with those who passed their lives between fighting and feasting, had
changed into a vein ironical, cynical, and severe. But the dull barons
were equally amused at his wit, and Adrian was almost the only one who
detected the serpent couched beneath the smile.

Often Rienzi sat at the feast, silent, but observant, as if watching
every look, weighing every word, taking gauge and measurement of the
intellect, policy, temperament, of every guest; and when he had seemed
to satisfy himself, his spirits would rise, his words flow, and
while his dazzling but bitter wit lit up the revel, none saw that the
unmirthful flash was the token of the coming storm. But all the while,
he neglected no occasion to mix with the humbler citizens, to stir up
their minds, to inflame their imaginations, to kindle their emulation,
with pictures of the present and with legends of the past. He grew in
popularity and repute, and was yet more in power with the herd, because
in favour wit