rarch, who,
at that time, possessed of a power greater than ever, before or since,
(not even excepting the Sage of Ferney,) wielded by a single literary
man, had put forth his boldest genius in behalf of the Roman Tribune.
Such a companion as Rienzi in the camp of the Cardinal might be a magnet
of attraction to the youth and enterprise of Italy. On nearing Rome, he
might himself judge how far it would be advisable to reinstate Rienzi
as a delegate of the papal power. And, in the meanwhile, the Roman's
influence might be serviceable, whether to awe the rebellious nobles
or conciliate the stubborn people. On the other hand, the Cardinal
was shrewd enough to perceive that no possible good could arise from
Rienzi's present confinement. With every month it excited deeper and
more universal sympathy. To his lonely dungeon turned half the hearts
of republican Italy. Literature had leagued its new and sudden, and
therefore mighty and even disproportioned, power with his cause; and the
Pope, without daring to be his judge, incurred the odium of being his
gaoler. "A popular prisoner," said the sagacious Cardinal to himself,
"is the most dangerous of guests. Restore him as your servant, or
destroy him as your foe! In this case I see no alternative but acquittal
or the knife!" In these reflections that able plotter, deep in the
Machiavelism of the age, divorced the lover from the statesman.

Recurring now to the former character, he felt some disagreeable and
uneasy forebodings at the earnest interest of his mistress. Fain would
he have attributed, either to some fantasy of patriotism or some purpose
of revenge, the anxiety of the Cesarini; and there was much in her stern
and haughty character which favoured that belief. But he was forced
to acknowledge to himself some jealous apprehension of a sinister and
latent motive, which touched his vanity and alarmed his love. "Howbeit,"
he thought, as he turned from his unwilling fear, "I can play with her
at her own weapons; I can obtain the release of Rienzi, and claim my
reward. If denied, the hand that opened the dungeon can again rivet the
chain. In her anxiety is my power!"

These thoughts the Cardinal was still revolving in his palace, when he
was suddenly summoned to attend the Pontiff.

The pontifical palace no longer exhibited the gorgeous yet graceful
luxury of Clement VI., and the sarcastic Cardinal smiled to himself at
the quiet gloom of the ante-chambers. "He thinks to set