--fie, how ye imitate mankind!"
Again he sank into silence, and then heavily and listlessly
drawing towards him the animated tales of Livy, said, "An hour to
midnight!--waking dreams are better than sleep. Well, history tells us
how men have risen--ay, and nations too--after sadder falls than that of
Rienzi or of Rome!"

In a few minutes, he was apparently absorbed in the lecture; so intent
indeed, was he in the task, that he did not hear the steps which wound
the spiral stairs that conducted to his cell, and it was not till the
wards harshly grated beneath the huge key, and the door creaked on
its hinges, that Rienzi, in amaze at intrusion at so unwonted an hour,
lifted his eyes. The door had reclosed on the dungeon, and by the lonely
and pale lamp he beheld a figure leaning, as for support, against the
wall. The figure was wrapped from head to foot in the long cloak of the
day, which, aided by a broad hat, shaded by plumes, concealed even the
features of the visitor.

Rienzi gazed long and wistfully.

"Speak," he said at length, putting his hand to his brow. "Methinks
either long solitude has bewildered me, or, sweet sir, your apparition
dazzles. I know you not--am I sure?--" and Rienzi's hair bristled while
he slowly rose--"Am I sure that it is living man who stands before
me? Angels have entered the prison-house before now. Alas! an angel's
comfort never was more needed."

The stranger answered not, but the captive saw that his heart heaved
even beneath his cloak; loud sobs choked his voice; at length, as by a
violent effort, he sprung forward, and sunk at the Tribune's feet. The
disguising hat, the long mantle fell to the ground--it was the face of a
woman that looked upward through passionate and glazing tears--the arms
of a woman that clasped the prisoner's knees! Rienzi gazed mute and
motionless as stone. "Powers and Saints of Heaven!" he murmured at last,
"do ye tempt me further!--is it?--no, no--yet speak!"

"Beloved--adored!--do you not know me?"

"It is--it is!" shrieked Rienzi wildly, "it is my Nina--my wife--my--"
His voice forsook him. Clasped in each other's arms, the unfortunates
for some moments seemed to have lost even the sense of delight at
their reunion. It was as an unconscious and deep trance, through which
something like a dream only faintly and indistinctively stirs.

At length recovered--at length restored, the first broken exclamations,
the first wild caresses of joy over--Nina lifted