b become ungovernable," whispered Pandulfo.

The Tribune roused himself from his revery.

"Pandulfo," said he, in the same tone, "my heart misgives me--the brood
of serpents are in my hand--I do not strangle them--they may sting me to
death, in return for my mercy--it is their instinct! No matter: it shall
not be said that the Roman Tribune bought with so many lives his own
safety: nor shall it be written upon my grave-stone, 'Here lies the
coward, who did not dare forgive.' What, ho! there, officers, unclose
the doors! My masters, let us acquaint the prisoners with their
sentence."

With that, Rienzi seated himself on the chair of state, at the head
of the table, and the sun, now risen, cast its rays over the blood-red
walls, in which the Barons, marshalled in order into the chamber,
thought to read their fate.

"My Lords," said the Tribune, "ye have offended the laws of God and man;
but God teaches man the quality of mercy. Learn at last, that I bear a
charmed life. Nor is he whom, for high purposes, Heaven hath raised from
the cottage to the popular throne, without invisible aid and spiritual
protection. If hereditary monarchs are deemed sacred, how much more one
in whose power the divine hand hath writ its witness! Yes, over him who
lives but for his country, whose greatness is his country's gift, whose
life is his country's liberty, watch the souls of the just, and the
unsleeping eyes of the sworded seraphim! Taught by your late failure and
your present peril, bid your anger against me cease; respect the laws,
revere the freedom of your city, and think that no state presents a
nobler spectacle than men born as ye are--a patrician and illustrious
order--using your power to protect your city, your wealth to nurture its
arts, your chivalry to protect its laws! Take back your swords--and the
first man who strikes against the liberties of Rome, let him be your
victim; even though that victim be the Tribune. Your cause has been
tried--your sentence is pronounced. Renew your oath to forbear all
hostility, private or public, against the government and the magistrates
of Rome, and ye are pardoned--ye are free!"

Amazed, bewildered, the Barons mechanically bent the knee: the friars
who had received their confessions, administered the appointed oath; and
while, with white lips, they muttered the solemn words, they heard below
the roar of the multitude for their blood.

This ceremony ended, the Tribune passed into the ba