Rienzi was almost unmanned.  Emotions, deep, conflicting, unspeakably fond and grateful, literally choked his speech.

“What!” cried Nina, clinging to his breast, and parting her hair from her eyes, as she sought his averted face.  “Part!—­never!  This is my place—­all Rome shall not tear me from it!”

Adrian, in despair, seized her hand, and attempted to drag her thence.

“Touch me not, sir!” said Nina, waving her arm with angry majesty, while her eyes sparkled as a lioness, whom the huntsmen would sever from her young.  “I am the wife of Cola di Rienzi, the Great Senator of Rome, and by his side will I live and die!”

“Take her hence:  quick!—­quick!  I hear the crowd advancing.”

Irene tore herself from Adrian, and fell at the feet of Rienzi—­she clasped his knees.

“Come, my brother, come!  Why lose these precious moments?  Rome forbids you to cast away a life in which her very self is bound up.”

“Right, Irene; Rome is bound up with me, and we will rise or fall together!—­no more!”

“You destroy us all!” said Adrian, with generous and impatient warmth.  “A few minutes more, and we are lost.  Rash man! it is not to fall by an infuriate mob that you have been preserved from so many dangers.”

“I believe it,” said the Senator, as his tall form seemed to dilate as with the greatness of his own soul.  “I shall triumph yet!  Never shall mine enemies—­never shall posterity say that a second time Rienzi abandoned Rome!  Hark!  ’Viva ‘l Popolo!’ still the cry of ‘the people.’  That cry scares none but tyrants!  I shall triumph and survive!”

“And I with thee!” said Nina, firmly.  Rienzi paused a moment, gazed on his wife, passionately clasped her to his heart, kissed her again and again, and then said, “Nina, I command thee,—­Go!”

“Never!”

He paused.  Irene’s face, drowned in tears, met his eyes.

“We will all perish with you,” said his sister; “you only, Adrian, you leave us!”

“Be it so,” said the Knight, sadly; “we will all remain,” and he desisted at once from further effort.

There was a dead but short pause, broken but by a convulsive sob from Irene.  The tramp of the raging thousands sounded fearfully distinct.  Rienzi seemed lost in thought—­then lifting his head, he said, calmly, “ye have triumphed—­I join ye—­I but collect these papers, and follow you.  Quick, Adrian—­save them!” and he pointed meaningly to Nina.

Waiting no other hint, the young Colonna seized Nina in his strong grasp—­with his left hand he supported Irene, who with terror and excitement was almost insensible.  Rienzi relieved him of the lighter load—­he took his sister in his arms, and descended the winding stairs.  Nina remained passive—­she heard her husband’s step behind, it was enough for her—­she but turned once to thank him with her eyes.  A tall Northman clad in armour stood at the open door.  Rienzi placed Irene, now perfectly lifeless, in the soldier’s arms, and kissed her pale cheek in silence.