But the eyes which, above all others, thirsted for a glimpse of the
released captive were forbidden that delight. Alone in her chamber, Nina
awaited the result of the trial. She heard the shouts, the exclamations,
the tramp of thousands along the street; she felt that the victory was
won; and, her heart long overcharged, she burst into passionate tears.
The return of Angelo soon acquainted her with all that had passed; but
it somewhat chilled her joy to find Rienzi was the guest of the dreaded
Cardinal. That shock, in which certainty, however happy, replaces
suspense, had so powerful an effect on her frame, joined to her loathing
fear of a visit from the Cardinal, that she became for three days
alarmingly ill; and it was only on the fifth day from that which saw
Rienzi endowed with the rank of Senator of Rome, that she was recovered
sufficiently to admit Albornoz to her presence.
The Cardinal had sent daily to inquire after her health, and his
inquiries, to her alarmed mind, had appeared to insinuate a pretension
to the right to make them. Meanwhile Albornoz had had enough to divert
and occupy his thoughts. Having bought off the formidable Montreal from
the service of John de Vico, one of the ablest and fiercest enemies of
the Church, he resolved to march to the territories of that tyrant as
expeditiously as possible, and so not to allow him time to obtain the
assistance of any other band of the mercenary adventurers, who found
Italy the market for their valour. Occupied with raising troops,
procuring money, corresponding with the various free states, and
establishing alliances in aid of his ulterior and more ambitious
projects at the court of Avignon, the Cardinal waited with tolerable
resignation the time when he might claim from the Signora Cesarini the
reward to which he deemed himself entitled. Meanwhile he had held his
first conversations with Rienzi, and, under the semblance of courtesy to
the acquitted Tribune, Albornoz had received him as his guest, in order
to make himself master of the character and disposition of one in whom
he sought a minister and a tool. That miraculous and magic art, attested
by the historians of the time, which Rienzi possessed over every one
with whom he came into contact, however various in temper, station, or
opinions, had not deserted him in his interview with the Pontiff. So
faithfully had he described the true condition of Rome, so logically
had he traced the causes and the remedies of the evils she endured, so
sanguinely had he spoken of his own capacities for administering her
affairs, and so brilliantly had he painted the prospects which that
administration opened to the weal of the Church, and the interests
of the Pope, that Innocent, though a keen and shrewd, and somewhat
sceptical calculator of human chances, was entirely fascinated by the
eloquence of the Roman.
“Is this the man,” he is reported to have said, “whom for twelve months
we have treated as a prisoner and a criminal? Would that it were on his
shoulders only that the Christian empire reposed!”
At the close of the interview he had, with every mark of favour and
distinction, conferred upon Rienzi the rank of Senator, which, in
fact, was that of Viceroy of Rome, and had willingly acceded to all the
projects which the enterprising Rienzi had once more formed--not only
for recovering the territories of the Church, but for extending the
dictatorial sway of the Seven-hilled City, over the old dependencies of
Italy.
Albornoz, to whom the Pope retailed this conversation, was somewhat
jealous of the favour the new Senator had so suddenly acquired, and
immediately on his return home sought an interview with his guest. In
his heart, the Lord Cardinal, emphatically a man of action and business,
regarded Rienzi as one rather cunning than wise--rather fortunate than
great--a mixture of the pedant and the demagogue. But after a long and
scrutinizing conversation with the new Senator, even he yielded to
the spell of his enchanting and master intellect. Reluctantly Albornoz
confessed to himself that Rienzi’s rise was not the thing of chance;
yet more reluctantly he perceived that the Senator was one whom he
might treat with as an equal, but could not rule as a minion. And he
entertained serious doubts whether it would be wise to reinstate him in
a power which he evinced the capacity to wield and the genius to extend.
Still, however, he did not repent the share he had taken in Rienzi’s
acquittal. His presence in a camp so thinly peopled was a matter greatly
to be desired. And through his influence, the Cardinal more than
ever trusted to enlist the Romans in favour of his enterprise for the
recovery of the territory of St. Peter!
Rienzi, who panted once more to behold his Nina, endeared to him by
trial and absence, as by fresh bridals, was not however able to discover
the name she had assumed at Avignon; and his residence with the Cardinal
closely but respectfully watched as he was, forbade Nina all opportunity
of corresponding with him. Some half bantering hints which Albornoz had
dropped upon the interest taken in his welfare by the most celebrated
beauty of Avignon, had filled him with a vague alarm which he trembled
to acknowledge even to himself. But the volto sciolto (Volto sciolto,
pensieri stretti--the countenance open, the thoughts restrained.) which,
in common with all Italian politicians, concealed whatever were his
pensieri stretti--enabled him to baffle completely the jealous and
lynxlike observation of the Cardinal. Nor had Alvarez been better
enabled to satisfy the curiosity of his master. He had indeed sought the
page Villani, but the imperious manner of that wayward and haughty
boy had cut short all attempts at cross-examination. And all he could
ascertain was, that the real Angelo Villani was not the Angelo Villani
who had visited Rienzi.
Trusting at last that he should learn all, and inflamed by such passion
and such hope as he was capable of feeling, Albornoz now took his way to
the Cesarini’s palace.
He was ushered with due state into the apartment of the Signora. He
found her pale, and with the traces of illness upon her noble and
statuelike features. She rose as he entered; and when he approached,
she half bent her knee, and raised his hand to her lips. Surprised and
delighted at a reception so new, the Cardinal hastened to prevent the
condescension; retaining both her hands, he attempted gently to draw
them to his heart.
“Fairest!” he whispered, “couldst thou know hear I have mourned thy
illness--and yet it has but left thee more lovely, as the rain only
brightens the flower. Ah! happy if I have promoted thy lightest wish,
and if in thine eyes I may henceforth seek at once an angel to guide me
and a paradise to reward.”
Nina, releasing her hand, waved it gently, and motioned the Cardinal to
a seat. Seating herself at a little distance, she then spoke with great
gravity and downcast eyes.
“My Lord, it is your intercession, joined to his own innocence, that has
released from yonder tower the elected governor of the people of Rome.
But freedom is the least of the generous gifts you have conferred;
there is a greater in a fair name vindicated, and rightful honours
re-bestowed. For this, I rest ever your debtor; for this, if I bear
children, they shall be taught to bless your name; for this the
historian who recalls the deeds of this age, and the fortunes of Cola
di Rienzi, shall add a new chaplet to the wreaths you have already won.
Lord Cardinal, I may have erred. I may have offended you--you may accuse
me of woman’s artifice. Speak not, wonder not, hear me out. I have
but one excuse, when I say that I held justified any means short of
dishonour, to save the life and restore the fortunes of Cola di Rienzi.
Know, my Lord, that she who now addresses you is his wife.”
The Cardinal remained motionless and silent. But his sallow countenance
grew flushed from the brow to the neck, and his thin lips quivered for
a moment, and then broke into a withering and bitter smile. At length
he rose from his seat, very slowly, and said, in a voice trembling with
passion,
“It is well, madam. Giles d’Albornoz has been, then, a puppet in the
hands, a stepping-stone in the rise, of the plebeian demagogue of Rome.
You but played upon me for your own purposes; and nothing short of a
Cardinal of Spain, and a Prince of the royal blood of Aragon, was meet
to be the instrument of a mountebank’s juggle! Madam, yourself and your
husband might justly be accused of ambition--”
“Cease, my Lord,” said Nina, with unspeakable dignity; “whatever offence
has been committed against you was mine alone. Till after our last
interview, Rienzi knew not even of my presence at Avignon.”
“At our last interview, Lady, (you do well to recall it!) methinks there
was a hinted and implied contract. I have fulfilled my part--I claim
yours. Mark me! I do not forego that claim. As easily as I rend this
glove can I rend the parchment which proclaims thy husband ‘the Senator
of Rome.’ The dungeon is not death, and its door will open twice.”
“My Lord--my Lord!” cried Nina, sick with terror, “wrong not so your
noble nature, your great name, your sacred rank, your chivalric blood.
You are of the knightly race of Spain, yours not the sullen, low, and
inexorable vices that stain the petty tyrants of this unhappy land.
You are no Visconti--no Castracani--you cannot stain your laurels with
revenge upon a woman. Hear me,” she continued, and she fell abruptly at
his feet; “men dupe, deceive our sex--and for selfish purposes; they are
pardoned--even by their victims. Did I deceive you with a false hope?
Well--what my object?--what my excuse? My husband’s liberty--my land’s
salvation! Woman,--my Lord, alas, your sex too rarely understand her
weakness or her greatness! Erring--all human as she is to others--God
gifts her with a thousand virtues to the one she loves! It is from
that love that she alone drinks her nobler nature. For the hero of her
worship she has the meekness of the dove--the devotion of the saint;
for his safety in peril, for his rescue in misfortune, her vain sense
imbibes the sagacity of the serpent--her weak heart, the courage of the
lioness! It is this which, in absence, made me mask my face in smiles,
that the friends of the houseless exile might not despair of his
fate--it is this which brought me through forests beset with robbers, to
watch the stars upon yon solitary tower--it was this which led my steps
to the revels of your hated court--this which made me seek a deliverer
in the noblest of its chiefs--it is this which has at last opened the
dungeon door to the prisoner now within your halls; and this,
Lord Cardinal,” added Nina, rising, and folding her arms upon her
heart--“this, if your anger seeks a victim, will inspire me to die
without a groan,--but without dishonour!”
Albornoz remained rooted to the ground.
Amazement--emotion--admiration--all busy at his heart. He gazed at
Nina’s flashing eyes and heaving bosom as a warrior of old upon a
prophetess inspired. His eyes were riveted to hers as by a spell. He
tried to speak, but his voice failed him. Nina continued:
“Yes, my Lord; these are no idle words! If you seek revenge, it is in
your power. Undo what you have done. Give Rienzi back to the dungeon,
or to disgrace, and you are avenged; but not on him. All the hearts of
Italy shall become to him a second Nina! I am the guilty one, and I the
sufferer. Hear me swear--in that instant which sees new wrong to Rienzi,
this hand is my executioner.--My Lord, I supplicate you no longer!”
Albornoz continued deeply moved. Nina but rightly judged him, when she
distinguished the aspiring Spaniard from the barbarous and unrelenting
voluptuaries of Italy. Despite the profligacy that stained his sacred
robe--despite all the acquired and increasing callousness of a hard,
scheming, and sceptical man, cast amidst the worst natures of the worst
of times--there lingered yet in his soul much of the knightly honour
of his race and country. High thoughts and daring spirits touched a
congenial string in his heart, and not the less, in that he had but
rarely met them in his experience of camps and courts. For the first
time in his life, he felt that he had seen the woman who could have
contented him even with wedlock, and taught him the proud and faithful
love of which the minstrels of Spain had sung. He sighed, and still
gazing on Nina, approached her, almost reverentially; he knelt and
kissed the hem of her robe. “Lady,” he said, “I would I could believe
that you have altogether read my nature aright, but I were indeed lost
to all honour, and unworthy of gentle birth, if I still harboured a
single thought against the peace and virtue of one like thee. Sweet
heroine,”--he continued--“so lovely, yet so pure--so haughty, and yet
so soft--thou hast opened to me the brightest page these eyes have
ever scanned in the blotted volume of mankind. Mayest thou have such
happiness as life can give; but souls such as thine make their nest like
the eagle, upon rocks and amidst the storms. Fear me no more--think
of me no more--unless hereafter, when thou hearest men speak of
Giles d’Albornoz, thou mayest say in thine own heart,”--and here the
Cardinal’s lip curled with scorn--“he did not renounce every feeling
worthy of a man, when Ambition and Fate endued him with the surplice of
the priest.”
The Spaniard was gone before Nina could reply.