“I know it, my own Nina; I know it,” said Rienzi, rising, and pacing the chamber with large and rapid strides.  “Now listen to me.  Thou knowest that to govern in safety, it is my policy as my pride to govern justly.  To govern justly is an awful thing, when mighty barons are the culprits.  Nina, for an open and audacious robbery, our court has sentenced Martin of the Orsini, the Lord of Porto, to death.  His corpse swings now on the Staircase of the Lion.”

“A dreadful doom!” said Nina, shuddering.

“True; but by his death thousands of poor and honest men may live in peace.  It is not that which troubles me:  the Barons resent the deed, as an insult to them that law should touch a noble.  They will rise—­they will rebel.  I foresee the storm—­not the spell to allay it.”

Nina paused a moment,—­“They have taken,” she then said, “a solemn oath on the Eucharist not to bear arms against thee.”

“Perjury is a light addition to theft and murder,” answered Rienzi, with his sarcastic smile.

“But the people are faithful.”

“Yes, but in a civil war (which the saints forefend!) those combatants are the stanchest who have no home but their armour, no calling but the sword.  The trader will not leave his trade at the toll of a bell every day; but the Barons’ soldiery are ready at all hours.”

“To be strong,” said Nina,—­who, summoned to the councils of her lord, shewed an intellect not unworthy of the honour,—­“to be strong in dangerous times, authority must seem strong.  By shewing no fear, you may prevent the cause of fear.”

“My own thought!” returned Rienzi, quickly.  “You know that half my power with these Barons is drawn from the homage rendered to me by foreign states.  When from every city in Italy the ambassadors of crowned princes seek the alliance of the Tribune, they must veil their resentment at the rise of the Plebeian.  On the other hand, to be strong abroad I must seem strong at home:  the vast design I have planned, and, as by a miracle, begun to execute, will fail at once if it seem abroad to be intrusted to an unsteady and fluctuating power.  That design (continued Rienzi, pausing, and placing his hand on a marble bust of the young Augustus) is greater than his, whose profound yet icy soul united Italy in subjection,—­for it would unite Italy in freedom;—­yes! could we but form one great federative league of all the States of Italy, each governed by its own laws, but united for mutual and common protection against the Attilas of the North, with Rome for their Metropolis and their Mother, this age and this brain would have wrought an enterprise which men should quote till the sound of the last trump!”

“I know thy divine scheme,” said Nina, catching his enthusiasm; “and what if there be danger in attaining it?  Have we not mastered the greatest danger in the first step?”