who has long wished to see the city resume its former splendour,
gladly consents to lend his aid.

This oath of allegiance received, Rienzi, whom matters of state
call elsewhere, asks Adrian to remain in his house during his
absence, to protect his sister against a renewal of the evening's
outrage. Adrian joyfully accepts this charge, and the lovers,
for they have been such from the very first glance exchanged,
remain alone together and unite in a touching duet of faith and
love, whose beautiful, peaceful strains contrast oddly with
the preceding discordant strife. In spite of his transport
at finding his affections returned, and in the very midst of
his rapturous joy at embracing his beloved, Adrian, tortured
by premonitory fears, warns Irene that her brother is far too
sanguine of success, and that his hopes will surely be deceived.
He also declares that he fears lest the proverbially fickle
people may waver in their promised allegiance, and lest Rienzi
may be the victim of the cruel barons whom he has now openly
defied. The lovers' conversation is interrupted at sunrise by
the ringing of the Capitol bell, proclaiming that the revolution
has begun, and the triumphant chorus of priests and people is
heard without, bidding all the Romans rejoice as their freedom
is now assured. Riding ahead of the procession, Rienzi slowly
passes by in the glittering armour and array of a Tribune,
and from time to time pauses to address the crowd, telling them
that the ancient city is once more free, and that he, as chief
magistrate, will severely punish any and every infringement of
the law. At the news of this welcome proclamation the enthusiasm
of the people reaches such an exalted pitch that they all loudly
swear to obey their Tribune implicitly, and loyally help him