prehended--brought to my
tribunal--receives fair trial--is condemned to die. Such is the
law;--what more would ye have?"

"Mercy," said the Colonna.

Rienzi folded his arms, and laughed disdainfully. "I never heard my Lord
Colonna plead for mercy when a peasant had stolen the bread that was to
feed his famishing children."

"Between a peasant and a prince, Tribune, I, for one, recognise a
distinction:--the bright blood of an Orsini is not to be shed like that
of a base plebeian--"

"Which, I remember me," said Rienzi, in a low voice, "you deemed small
matter enough when my boy-brother fell beneath the wanton spear of your
proud son. Wake not that memory, I warn you; let it sleep.--For shame,
old Colonna--for shame; so near the grave, where the worm levels
all flesh, and preaching, with those gray hairs, the uncharitable
distinction between man and man. Is there not distinction enough at the
best? Does not one wear purple, and the other rags? Hath not one ease,
and the other toil? Doth not the one banquet while the other starves?
Do I nourish any mad scheme to level the ranks which society renders
a necessary evil? No. I war no more with Dives than with Lazarus. But
before Man's judgment-seat, as before God's, Lazarus and Dives are made
equal. No more."

Colonna drew his robe round him with great haughtiness, and bit his lip
in silence. Raimond interposed.

"All this is true, Tribune. But," and he drew Rienzi aside, "you know
we must be politic as well as just. Nephew to two Cardinals, what enmity
will not this provoke at Avignon?"

"Vex not yourself, holy Raimond, I will answer it to the Pontiff." While
they spoke the bell tolled heavily and loudly.

Colonna started.

"Great Tribune," said he, with a slight sneer, "deign to pause ere it be
too late. I know not that I ever before bent to you a suppliant; and I
ask you now to spare mine own foe. Stephen Colonna prays Cola di Rienzi
to spare the life of an Orsini."

"I understand thy taunt, old Lord," said Rienzi, calmly, "but I resent
it not. You are foe to the Orsini, yet you plead for him--it sounds
generous; but hark you,--you are more a friend to your order than a foe
to your rival. You cannot bear that one, great enough to have contended
with you, should perish like a thief. I give full praise to such noble
forgiveness; but I am no noble, and I do not sympathize with it. One
word more;--if this were the sole act of fraud and violence that this
bandit ba