ght with gold, preceded the march of the loftiest
matronage of Rome, whose love for show, and it may be whose admiration
for triumphant fame, (which to women sanctions many offences,) made them
forget the humbled greatness of their lords: amidst them Nina and Irene,
outshining all the rest; then came the Tribune and the Pontiff's Vicar,
surrounded by all the great Signors of the city, smothering alike
resentment, revenge, and scorn, and struggling who should approach
nearest to the monarch of the day. The high-hearted old Colonna alone
remained aloof, following at a little distance, and in a garb studiously
plain. But his age, his rank, his former renown in war and state, did
not suffice to draw to his grey locks and highborn mien a single one
of the shouts that attended the meanest lord on whom the great Tribune
smiled. Savelli followed nearest to Rienzi, the most obsequious of the
courtly band; immediately before the Tribune came two men; the one bore
a drawn sword, the other the pendone, or standard usually assigned to
royalty. The tribune himself was clothed in a long robe of white
satin, whose snowy dazzle (miri candoris) is peculiarly dwelt on by the
historian, richly decorated with gold; while on his breast were many
of those mystic symbols I have before alluded to, the exact meaning of
which was perhaps known only to the wearer. In his dark eye, and on
that large tranquil brow, in which thought seemed to sleep, as sleeps a
storm, there might be detected a mind abstracted from the pomp around;
but ever and anon he roused himself, and conversed partially with
Raimond or Savelli.

"This is a quaint game," said the Orsini, falling back to the old
Colonna: "but it may end tragically."

"Methinks it may," said the old man, "if the Tribune overhear thee."

Orsini grew pale. "How--nay--nay, even if he did, he never resents
words, but professes to laugh at our spoken rage. It was but the
other day that some knave told him what one of the Annibaldi said of
him--words for which a true cavalier would have drawn the speaker's
life's blood; and he sent for the Annibaldi, and said, 'My friend,
receive this purse of gold,--court wits should be paid.'"

"Did Annibaldi take the gold?"

"Why, no; the Tribune was pleased with his spirit, and made him sup with
him; and Annibaldi says he never spent a merrier evening, and no longer
wonders that his kinsman, Riccardo, loves the buffoon so."

Arrived now at the Lateran, Luca di S