Rienzi by Edward Bulwer-lytton

While thus animated was the scene around the Capitol, within one of the apartments of the palace sat the agent and prime cause of that excitement. In the company of his quiet scribes, Rienzi appeared absorbed in the patient details of his avocation. While the murmur and the hum, the shout and the tramp, of multitudes, rolled to his chamber, he seemed not to heed them, nor to rouse himself a moment from his task. With the unbroken regularity of an automaton, he continued to enter in his large book, and with the clear and beautiful characters of the period, those damning figures which taught him, better than declamations, the frauds practised on the people, and armed him with that weapon of plain fact which it is so difficult for abuse to parry.

"Page 2, Vol. B.," said he, in the tranquil voice of business, to the clerks; "see there, the profits of the salt duty; department No.3 -- very well. Page 9, Vol. D. -- what is the account rendered by Vescobaldi, the collector? What! twelve thousand florins? -- no more? -- unconscionable rascal! " (Here was a loud shout without of 'Pandulfo! -- long live Pandulfo! ') "Pastrucci, my friend, your head wanders; you are listening to the noise without -- please to amuse yourself with the calculation I entrusted to you. Santi, what is the entry given in by Antonio Tralli?"