Part 31 (1/2)
”It is.”
”Better still;-thy name?”
”Angelo Villani.”
”I take thy blue eyes and low broad brow,” said Montreal, with a slight sigh, ”in pledge of thy truth. Henceforth, Angelo Villani, thou art in the list of my secretaries. Another time thou shalt tell me more of thyself. Thy service dates from this day. For the rest, no man ever wanted wealth who served Walter de Montreal; nor advancement, if he served him faithfully. My closet, through yonder door, is thy waiting-room. Ask for, and send hither, Lusignan of Lyons; he is my chief scribe, and will see to thy comforts, and instruct thee in thy business.”
Angelo withdrew-Montreal's eye followed him.
”A strange likeness!” said he, musingly and sadly; ”my heart leaps to that boy!”
Chapter 10.III. Montreal's Banquet.
Some few days after the date of the last chapter, Rienzi received news from Rome, which seemed to produce in him a joyous and elated excitement. His troops still lay before Palestrina, and still the banners of the Barons waved over its unconquered walls. In truth, the Italians employed half their time in brawls amongst themselves; the Velletritrani had feuds with the people of Tivoli, and the Romans were still afraid of conquering the Barons;-”The hornet,” said they, ”stings worse after he is dead; and neither an Orsini, a Savelli, nor a Colonna, was ever known to forgive.”
Again and again had the captains of his army a.s.sured the indignant Senator that the fortress was impregnable, and that time and money were idly wasted upon the siege. Rienzi knew better, but he concealed his thoughts.
He now summoned to his tent the brothers of Provence, and announced to them his intention of returning instantly to Rome. ”The mercenaries shall continue the siege under our Lieutenant, and you, with my Roman Legion, shall accompany me. Your brother, Sir Walter, and I, both want your presence; we have affairs to arrange between us. After a few days I shall raise recruits in the city, and return.”
This was what the brothers desired; they approved, with evident joy, the Senator's proposition.
Rienzi next sent for the lieutenant of his bodyguard, the same Riccardo Annibaldi whom the reader will remember in the earlier part of this work, as the antagonist of Montreal's lance. This young man-one of the few n.o.bles who espoused the cause of the Senator-had evinced great courage and military ability, and promised fair (should Fate spare his life (It appears that this was the same Annibaldi who was afterwards slain in an affray:-Petrarch lauds his valour and laments his fate.)) to become one of the best Captains of his time.
”Dear Annibaldi,” said Rienzi; ”at length I can fulfil the project on which we have privately conferred. I take with me to Rome the two Provencal Captains-I leave you chief of the army. Palestrina will yield now-eh!-ha, ha, ha!-Palestrina will yield now!”
”By my right hand, I think so, Senator,” replied Annibaldi. ”These foreigners have hitherto only stirred up quarrels amongst ourselves, and if not cowards are certainly traitors!”
”Hush, hush, hus.h.!.+ Traitors! The learned Arimbaldo, the brave Brettone, traitors! Fie on it! No, no; they are very excellent, honourable men, but not lucky in the camp;-not lucky in the camp;-better speed to them in the city! And now to business.”
The Senator then detailed to Annibaldi the plan he himself had formed for taking the town, and the military skill of Annibaldi at once recognised its feasibility.
With his Roman troop, and Montreal's brothers, one at either hand, Rienzi then departed to Rome.
That night Montreal gave a banquet to Pandulfo di Guido, and to certain of the princ.i.p.al citizens, whom one by one he had already sounded, and found hollow at heart to the cause of the Senator.
Pandulfo sate at the right hand of the Knight of St. John, and Montreal lavished upon him the most courteous attentions.
”Pledge me in this-it is from the Vale of Chiana, near Monte Pulciano,” said Montreal. ”I think I have heard bookmen say (you know, Signor Pandulfo, we ought all to be bookmen now!) that the site was renowned of old. In truth, the wine hath a racy flavour.”
”I hear,” said Bruttini, one of the lesser Barons, (a stanch friend to the Colonna,) ”that in this respect the innkeeper's son has put his book-learning to some use: he knows every place where the wine grows richest.”
”What! the Senator is turned wine-bibber!” said Montreal, quaffing a vast goblet full; ”that must unfit him for business-'tis a pity.”
”Verily, yes,” said Pandulfo; ”a man at the head of a state should be temperate-I never drink wine unmixed.”
”Ah,” whispered Montreal, ”if your calm good sense ruled Rome, then, indeed, the metropolis of Italy might taste of peace. Signor Vivaldi,”-and the host turned towards a wealthy draper,-”these disturbances are bad for trade.”
”Very, very!” groaned the draper.
”The Barons are your best customers,” quoth the minor n.o.ble.
”Much, much!” said the draper.
”'Tis a pity that they are thus roughly expelled,” said Montreal, in a melancholy tone. ”Would it not be possible, if the Senator (I drink his health) were less rash-less zealous, rather,-to unite free inst.i.tutions with the return of the Barons?-such should be the task of a truly wise statesman!”
”It surely might be possible,” returned Vivaldi; ”the Savelli alone spend more with me than all the rest of Rome.”
”I know not if it be possible,” said Bruttini; ”but I do know that it is an outrage to all decorum that an innkeeper's son should be enabled to make a solitude of the palaces of Rome.”
”It certainly seems to indicate too vulgar a desire of mob favour,” said Montreal. ”However, I trust we shall harmonize all these differences. Rienzi, perhaps,-nay, doubtless, means well!”
”I would,” said Vivaldi, who had received his cue, ”that we might form a mixed const.i.tution-Plebeians and Patricians, each in their separate order.”
”But,” said Montreal, gravely, ”so new an experiment would demand great physical force.”
”Why, true; but we might call in an umpire-a foreigner who had no interest in either faction-who might protect the new Buono Stato; a Podesta, as we have done before-Brancaleone, for instance. How well and wisely he ruled! that was a golden age for Rome. A Podesta for ever!-that's my theory.”
”You need not seek far for the president of your council,” said Montreal, smiling at Pandulfo; ”a citizen at once popular, well-born, and wealthy, may be found at my right hand.”
Pandulfo hemmed, and coloured.
Montreal proceeded. ”A committee of trades might furnish an honourable employment to Signor Vivaldi; and the treatment of all foreign affairs-the employment of armies, &c., might be left to the Barons, with a more open compet.i.tion, Signor di Bruttini, to the Barons of the second order than has. .h.i.therto been conceded to their birth and importance. Sirs, will you taste the Malvoisie?”
”Still,” said Vivaldi, after a pause-(Vivaldi antic.i.p.ated at least the supplying with cloth the whole of the Grand Company)-”still, such a moderate and well-digested const.i.tution would never be acceded to by Rienzi.”
”Why should it? what need of Rienzi?” exclaimed Bruttini. ”Rienzi may take another trip to Bohemia.”
”Gently, gently,” said Montreal; ”I do not despair. All open violence against the Senator would strengthen his power. No, no, humble him-admit the Barons, and then insist on your own terms. Between the two factions you might then establish a fitting balance. And in order to keep your new const.i.tution from the encroachment of either extreme, there are warriors and knights, too, who for a certain rank in the great city of Rome would maintain horse and foot at its service. We Ultra-Montanes are often harshly judged; we are wanderers and Ishmaelites, solely because we have no honourable place of rest. Now, if I-”
”Ay, if you, n.o.ble Montreal!” said Vivaldi.
The company remained hushed in breathless attention, when suddenly there was heard-deep, solemn, m.u.f.fled,-the great bell of the Capitol!
”Hark!” said Vivaldi, the bell: ”It tolls for execution: an unwonted hour!”
”Sure, the Senator has not returned!” exclaimed Pandulfo di Guido, turning pale.
”No, no,” quoth Bruttini, ”it is but a robber, caught two nights ago in Romagna. I heard that he was to die tonight.”
At the word ”robber,” Montreal changed countenance slightly. The wine circulated-the bell continued to toll-its suddenness over, it ceased to alarm. Conversation flowed again.