He is apprehended--brought to my tribunal--receives fair trial--is condemned to die.

Such is the law;--what more would ye have ?" "Mercy," said the Colonna.
Rienzi folded his arms, and laughed disdainfully.

"I never heard my Lord Colonna plead for mercy when a peasant had stolen the bread that was to feed his famishing children." "Between a peasant and a prince, Tribune, I, for one, recognise a distinction:--the bright blood of an Orsini is not to be shed like that of a base plebeian--" "Which, I remember me," said Rienzi, in a low voice, "you deemed small matter enough when my boy-brother fell beneath the wanton spear of your proud son.

Wake not that memory, I warn you; let it sleep .-- For shame, old Colonna--for shame; so near the grave, where the worm levels all flesh, and preaching, with those gray hairs, the uncharitable distinction between man and man.

Is there not distinction enough at the best?
Does not one wear purple, and the other rags?
Hath not one ease, and the other toil?
Doth not the one banquet while the other starves?
Do I nourish any mad scheme to level the ranks which society renders a necessary evil?
No.