Chapter 5.V.  The Rottenness of the Edifice.

The kindly skill of Nina induced Irene to believe that it was but the tender consideration of her brother to change a scene embittered by her own thoughts, and in which the notoriety of her engagement with Adrian exposed her to all that could mortify and embarrass, that led to the proposition of her visit to Florence.  Its suddenness was ascribed to the occasion of an unexpected mission to Florence, (for a loan of arms and money,) which thus gave her a safe and honoured escort.—­Passively she submitted to what she herself deemed a relief; and it was agreed that she should for a while be the guest of a relation of Nina’s, who was the abbess of one of the wealthiest of the Florentine convents:  the idea of monastic seclusion was welcome to the bruised heart and wearied spirit.

But though not apprised of the immediate peril of Rienzi, it was with deep sadness and gloomy forebodings that she returned his embrace and parting blessing; and when at length alone in her litter, and beyond the gates of Rome, she repented a departure to which the chance of danger gave the appearance of desertion.

Meanwhile, as the declining day closed around the litter and its troop, more turbulent actors in the drama demand our audience.  The traders and artisans of Rome at that time, and especially during the popular government of Rienzi, held weekly meetings in each of the thirteen quarters of the city.  And in the most democratic of these, Cecco del Vecchio was an oracle and leader.  It was at that assembly, over which the smith presided, that the murmurs that preceded the earthquake were heard.

“So,” cried one of the company—­Luigi, the goodly butcher,—­“they say he wanted to put a new tax on us; and that is the reason he broke up the Council today, because, good men, they were honest, and had bowels for the people:  it is a shame and a sin that the treasury should be empty.”

“I told him,” said the smith, “to beware how he taxed the people.  Poor men won’t be taxed.  But as he does not follow my advice, he must take the consequence—­the horse runs from one hand, the halter remains in the other.”

“Take your advice, Cecco!  I warrant me his stomach is too high for that now.  Why he is grown as proud as a pope.”

“For all that, he is a great man,” said one of the party.  “He gave us laws—­he rid the Campagna of robbers—­filled the streets with merchants, and the shops with wares—­defeated the boldest lords and fiercest soldiery of Italy—­”

“And now wants to tax the people!—­that’s all the thanks we get for helping him,” said the grumbling Cecco.  “What would he have been without us?—­we that make, can unmake.”

“But,” continued the advocate, seeing that he had his supporters—­“but then he taxes us for our own liberties.”

“Who strikes at them now?” asked the butcher.