[2] Indisposition has as yet prevented our witnessing the representation of _Rienzi_; but we have been told by our play-going friends that every scene is listened to with marked attention, and that many passages are judiciously applauded. We are glad to hear this, because it is strong encouragement for other dramatists, and leads us to hope that tragedy-writing may still be revived among us, and that with greater success than has attended many recent efforts. PROGRESS OF RIENZI'S DISAFFECTION. _Claudia_. He is changed, Grievously changed; still good and kind, and full Of fond relentings--crossed by sudden gusts Of wild and stormy passion. Then, he's so silent-- He once so eloquent. Of old, each show, Bridal, or joust, or pious pilgrimage, Lived in his vivid speech. Oh! 'twas my joy, In that bright glow of rapid words, to see Clear pictures, as the slow procession coiled Its glittering length, or stately tournament Grew statelier, in his voice. Now he sits mute-- His serious eyes bent on the ground--each sense Turned inward. _Rienzi_. Claudia, in these bad days, When man must tread perforce the flinty path Of duty, hard and rugged, fail not thou Duly at night and morning to give thanks To the all-gracious power that smoothed the way For woman's tenderer feet. _Colonna_. He hath turned A bitter knave of late, and lost his mirth, And mutters riddling warnings and wild tales Of the great days of heathen Rome; and prates Of peace, and liberty, and equal law, And mild philosophy, to us the knights And warriors of this warlike age, who rule By the bright law of arms. The fool's grown wise-- A grievous change. * * * * * Hatred-- And danger--the two hands that tightest grasp Each other--the two cords that soonest knit A fast and stubborn tie: your true love-knot Is nothing to it. Faugh! the supple touch Of pliant interest, or the dust of time, Or the pin-point of temper, loose, or not, Or snap love's silken band. Fear and old hate, They are sure weavers--they work for the storm, The whirlwind, and the rocking surge; their knot Endures till death. RIENZI'S TRIUMPH. Hark--the bell, the bell! The knell of tyranny--the mighty voice, That, to the city and the plain--to earth, And listening heaven, proclaims the glorious tale Of Rome reborn, and Freedom. See, the clouds Are swept away, and the moon's boat of light Sails in the clear blue sky, and million stars Look out on us, and smile. [_The gate of the Capitol opens, and Alberti and Soldiers join the People, and lay the keys at Rienzi's feet_.] Hark! that great voice Hath broke our bondage. Look, without a stroke The Capitol is won--the gates unfold-- The keys are at our feet. Alberti, friend, How shall I pay thy service? Citizens! First to possess the palace citadel-- The famous strength of Rome; then to sweep on, Triumphant, through her streets.