University of Virginia Library

SCENE I.

—A Hall in the Colonna Palace.
Enter Colonna, Cafarello, and Lady Colonna, and Nobles, R.
Col.
(L.)
What, Martin Ursini our senator!
An Ursini, and of that hated race
The most abhorred, the worst. He chief of Rome!
Sick, too. Tush! tush!

Caf.
The tale is rife, Colonna;
And, as I passed his palace, glancing lights
And sudden shouts and merry music spake
The high and liberal feasting which foreruns
Expected triumph.

Col.
Martin Ursini
Head of the state! and the Colonna fallen
Beneath their rival's feet! His wanton vassals,
The meanest horseboys of his train, will spurn
My belted knights. Cousin, we must away
To Palestrina, and array in force
Our men at arms: they will be needed.

Lady C.
[Crossing to C.]
Fie!
These brawls match ill with thy white hairs.

Col.
Good wife,
Wouldst have me turn a craven in mine age,
A by-word to mine enemies?

Lady C.
Art thou not
Stephen Colonna, of that greatest name
The greatest? Which of these, proud Ursini,
May match with thee in fame? But thy old wreaths
Were won in nobler fields. These private feuds
Are grown a crying evil.
Enter Savelli, L.
Count Savelli!

Sav.
A fair good evening, noble dame. Colonna,
Hear'st thou the news?

Col.
Of Martin Ursini?

Sav.
Nay, that were common, stale, and trivial. See,
I bring ye tidings of rebellion, sirs;
High tidings! stirring tidings! prompt rebellion!
Headed—I pr'ythee guess.

Caf.
(R.)
Rare food for mirth,
If we may judge by look and tone. The wives
Of Rome revolted; or the husbands risen
Against their gentle dames.

Sav.
'Tis a brief summons,
Fiery, but scholarly, stern, bold, and plain,—
Calling the citizens to meet to-night
And win their freedom. Such a scroll as this
Is fixed in every street.

Caf.
How signed?

Sav.
Guess! guess!
There lies the mirth: ye'll never guess—read here.

[Crossing to C. and showing a scroll.
Caf.
What, Cola di Rienzi! honest Cola,
Who saves Colonna here a jester's charge,
A fool without the bells. Honest Rienzi!
'Tis a device of the black Ursini.

Col.
(L.)
Likelier some freak of Cola's. He hath turned
A bitter knave of late, and lost his mirth,
And mutters riddling warnings and wild tales
Of the great days of heathen Rome; and prates
Of peace, and liberty, and equal law,
And mild philosophy, to us the knights
And warriors of this warlike age, who rule
By the bright law of arms. The fool's grown wise—
A grievous change.

Lady C.
(L. C.)
I ever thought him so:
A sad wise man, of daring eye, and free,
Yet mystic speech. When ye have laughed, I still
Have shuddered for his darkling words, oft fell
Like oracles, answering with dim response
To my unspoken thoughts, so that my spirit,
Albeit unused to womanish fear, hath quail'd
To hear his voice's deep vibration. Watch him!
Be sure, he is ambitious.—Watch him, lords:—
He hath o'erleapt the barrier, poverty;
Hath conquered his mean parentage; hath clomb
To decent station, to high lettered fame;—
The pontiff's notary, the honoured friend
Of Petrarch. Watch him well.

[Crosses to R.
Col.
Tush, tush! Rienzi—
Cola Rienzi—honest Cola, rise
'Gainst us! Fair wife, I deemed thee wiser.—They
Who plot are silent. Would we were as sure
Of Martin Ursini! What says Avignon?
The holy father hath not joined the faction?

Enter Rienzi, behind, L., unseen.
Sav.
I know not; but the cardinals, his uncles,
Are powerful with Pope Clement.

Col.
All the race,
Churchmen or laic, old or young, have craft
Veined in their stony hearts—the master-streak
Of that cold marble. Of the cardinals,
Gaëtano is a soldier-priest, but wary,
And politic as valiant; Annibal,
A meek soft-spoken monk, who, crawling, climbs
Ambition's loftiest ladder. Of the nephews,

Rie.
[Advancing, C.]
Despatch them at a stroke,—say they're thy foes.

Sav.
Why, master Cola—

Rie.
Say they are thy foes.

Sav.
Art thou their friend? I have heard talk of wrongs
Thou hast suffered from the Ursini.

Rie.
Ay, ay—
A trifle of a life—a foolish brother
Killed in a midnight brawl. Your privilege,
Your feudal privilege! ye slay our brethren,
And we—we kiss the sword. This Martin Ursini—

Col.
What of the knavish ruffian?

Rie.
Mend thy phrase—
Shall ne'er be senator,—yet mend thy phrase;
Bespeak him fair; ye may be friends.

Col.
Friends?

Rie.
Ay;
A day will come, when I shall see ye joined
In a close league.

Col.
Joined! by what tie?

Rie.
By hatred—
By danger—the two hands that tightest grasp
Each other—the two cords that soonest knit
A fast and stubborn tie: your true-love knot
Is nothing to it. Faugh! the supple touch
Of pliant interest, or the dust of time,
Or the pin-point of temper, loose, or rot,
Or snap love's silken band. Fear and old hate,
They are sure weavers—they work for the storm,
The whirlwind, and the rocking surge; their knot
Endures till death. Ye will be friends, I tell thee—
Ere yon inconstant moon hath waxed and waned,
Ye will be friends. Yet Martin Ursini
Shall ne'er be senator.

Sav.
Why, master prophet,
Men say thou shalt be senator, or king,
Or emperor. Hast read the scroll? when goest thou
To head thy rebel band! See! see!

[Gives the Scroll.
Rie.
[Reading.]
“At midnight.—”
Well, I come here to while away the time
Till that dread hour.—“Upon the Capitol.”—
Look that ye set forth scouts and men at arms
To sieze the chiefs, and chase the multitude,
Like sheep before the dogs. Ye were best send
To man the castle walls, and triply guard.—
Who is the captain of the watch?

Sav.
Alberti.

Rie.
Ha, mine old friend! I counsel ye, my lords,
Seize me, and crush this great rebellion; me,
Cola Rienzi, honest Cola! Laugh ye?
An honest man hath played the rogue, ere now.—
Witness this scroll.

Col.
A scurvy jest!

Rie.
A jest!
Call it a jest, and 'tis a mockery
Of all that, in this worn-out world, survives
Of great and glorious.—The eternal power
Lodged in the will of man, the hallowed names
Of freedom and of country!—If a truth—

[Crosses to C.
Lady C.
(R.)
What, if a truth?

Rie.
Then—Where is Angelo,
[Crossing to Lady C.
Thy goodly son, Madonna?

Col.
Dost thou seek
A full-fledged gallant, and so gayly plumed,
Here, in his parent nest? If thou wouldst meet
The rover, go where Mandolines are heard,
Beneath coy beauty's lattice. Count Savelli
Has a fair daughter.

Caf.
I have heard him praise
Bianca Ursini.

Col.
An Ursini!

Lady C.
Calm thee, Colonna. Rest thee sure thy son
Will never stain thy honour'd name—will never
Forget his proud obedience.

Rie.
Say'st thou so?

Lady C.
With a glad certainty.

Rie.
Look to him, then.—
Yet, watch him as thou may, against thy will
He shall espouse the fairest maid in Rome;
The fairest and the greatest.

Sav.
And as good
As she is great, and innocent as fair?

Rie.
Even to the crowning of a poet's dream;
Gentle, and beautiful, and good.—Yet, mark me—
Against thy will! I said against thy will!

[Exit L.
Lady C.
[Crossing to L.]
Hear'st thou? [Calling after Rienzi.]
He's gone?

Sav.
Dear lady, think no more
Of this wild prophecy.

Lady C.
Nay, I'm sure
Of Angelo. Why dost thou seek thy sword?
Thou goest not forth so late, good husband?

Col.
Yes:
The night is fair,—I shall take horse at once
For Palestrina; thence to Avignon.
We'll bide some struggle with these Ursini.
Will ye ride with me, kinsmen?

Caf.
Joyfully.

Lady C.
I'll wait ye to the court.—Yet, once again,
Beware Rienzi!

[Exeunt, L.