CHAPTER 2.V.The Procession of the Barons .-- The Beginning of the End.
It was the morning of the 19th of May, the air was brisk and clear, and the sun, which had just risen, shone cheerily upon the glittering casques and spears of a gallant procession of armed horsemen, sweeping through the long and principal street of Rome.

The neighing of the horses, the ringing of the hoofs, the dazzle of the armour, and the tossing to and fro of the standards, adorned with the proud insignia of the Colonna, presented one of the gay and brilliant spectacles peculiar to the middle ages.
At the head of the troop, on a stout palfrey, rode Stephen Colonna.
At his right was the Knight of Provence, curbing, with an easy hand, a slight, but fiery steed of the Arab race: behind him followed two squires, the one leading his war-horse, the other bearing his lance and helmet.

At the left of Stephen Colonna rode Adrian, grave and silent, and replying only by monosyllables to the gay bavardage of the Knight of Provence.

A considerable number of the flower of the Roman nobles followed the old Baron; and the train was closed by a serried troop of foreign horsemen, completely armed.
There was no crowd in the street,--the citizens looked with seeming apathy at the procession from their half-closed shops.
"Have these Romans no passion for shows ?" asked Montreal; "if they could be more easily amused they would be more easily governed." "Oh, Rienzi, and such buffoons, amuse them.

We do better,--we terrify!" replied Stephen.
"What sings the troubadour, Lord Adrian ?" said Montreal.
"'Smiles, false smiles, should form the school For those who rise, and those who rule: The brave they trick, and fair subdue, Kings deceive, the States undo.
Smiles, false smiles! "'Frowns, true frowns, ourselves betray, The brave arouse, the fair dismay, Sting the pride, which blood must heal, Mix the bowl, and point the steel.
Frowns, true frowns!' "The lay is of France, Signor; yet methinks it brings its wisdom from Italy;--for the serpent smile is your countrymen's proper distinction, and the frown ill becomes them." "Sir Knight," replied Adrian, sharply, and incensed at the taunt, "you Foreigners have taught us how to frown:--a virtue sometimes." "But not wisdom, unless the hand could maintain what the brow menaced," returned Montreal, with haughtiness; for he had much of the Franc vivacity which often overcame his prudence; and he had conceived a secret pique against Adrian since their interview at Stephen's palace.
"Sir Knight," answered Adrian, colouring, "our conversation may lead to warmer words than I would desire to have with one who has rendered me so gallant a service." "Nay, then, let us go back to the troubadours," said Montreal, indifferently.