the rude foreigners, encouraged by their leaders, had each some taunt
or jest, uttered in a barbarous attempt at the southern patois, for the
lazy giant, as he again appeared in front of his forge, leaning on his
anvil as before, and betraying no sign of attention to his insultors,
save by a heightened glow of his swarthy visage;--and so the gallant
procession passed through the streets, and quitted the Eternal City.

There was a long interval of deep silence--of general calm--throughout
the whole of Rome: the shops were still but half-opened; no man betook
himself to his business; it was like the commencement of some holyday,
when indolence precedes enjoyment.

About noon, a few small knots of men might be seen scattered about the
streets, whispering to each other, but soon dispersing; and every now
and then, a single passenger, generally habited in the long robes used
by the men of letters, or in the more sombre garb of monks, passed
hurriedly up the street towards the Church of St. Mary of Egypt, once
the Temple of Fortune. Then, again, all was solitary and deserted.
Suddenly, there was heard the sound of a single trumpet! It swelled--it
gathered on the ear. Cecco del Vecchio looked up from his anvil! A
solitary horseman paced slowly by the forge, and wound a long loud blast
of the trumpet suspended round his neck, as he passed through the middle
of the street. Then might you see a crowd, suddenly, and as by magic,
appear emerging from every corner; the street became thronged with
multitudes; but it was only by the tramp of their feet, and an
indistinct and low murmur, that they broke the silence. Again
the horseman wound his trump, and when the note ceased, he cried
aloud--"Friends and Romans! tomorrow, at dawn of day, let each man find
himself unarmed before the Church of St. Angelo. Cola di Rienzi convenes
the Romans to provide for the good state of Rome." A shout, that seemed
to shake the bases of the seven hills, broke forth at the end of
this brief exhortation; the horseman rode slowly on, and the crowd
followed.--This was the commencement of the Revolution!

Chapter 2.VI. The Conspirator Becomes the Magistrate.

At midnight, when the rest of the city seemed hushed in rest, lights
were streaming from the windows of the Church of St. Angelo. Breaking
from its echoing aisles, the long and solemn notes of sacred music
stole at frequent intervals upon the air. Rienzi was praying within the
church; thirty m