Princeton University Library
32101 068581824


3689
32
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IN MEMORIAM
maples நிழற்பது) eem
Obiit. December 23r: 1897.
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1





THE BRAVO,
1234-1
A VENETIAN STORY.
BY FENIMORE COOPER,
AUTHOR OF
THE PILOT, THE SPY, LIONEL LINCOLN, &c., &c.
« Giustizia in palazzo,
E pane in piazza.

PARIS,
BAUDRY'S FOREIGN LIBRARY,
RUR DU COQ-SAINT-HONORÉ.
SOLD ALSO BY THEOPHILE BARROIS, JUN., RUE RICHELIEU ; TRUCHY, BOULEVARD
DES ITALIENS; AMYOT, RUE DE LA PAIX; AND LIBRAIRIE DES ETRANGERS,
RUE NEUVE SAINT - AUGUSTIN,
1831.


1


PREFACE.
It is to be regretted that the world does not discriminate
more justly in its use of political terms. Governments are
usually called either monarchies or republics. The former class
embraces equally those institutions in which the sovereign
is worshipped as a god, and those in which he performs the
humble office of a mannekin. In the latter we find aristo-
cracies and democracies blended in the same generic appel-
lation. The consequence of a generalization so wide is an
ulter confusion on the subject of the polity of states.
The author has endeavoured to give his countrymen, in
this book, a picture of the social system of one of the soi-
disant republics of the other hemisphere. There has been no
attempt to pourtray historical characters, only too fictitious
in their graver dress, but simply to set forth the familiar
operation of Venetian policy. For the justification of his
likeness, after allowing for defects of execution, he refers to
the well-known work of M. Daru.
A history of the progress of political liberty, written purely
in the interests of humanity, is still a desideratum in lite-
rature. In nations which have made a false commencement,
it would be found that the citizen, or rather the subject, has
3689
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32


ii
PREFACE.
extorted immunity after immunity, as his intelligence and
growing wants instructed and required him to defend
particular rights which became necessary to his well being.
A certain accumulation of these immunities constitutes,
with a solitary and recent exception in Switzerland, the
essence of European liberty, even at this hour. It is scarce-
ly necessary to tell the reader that this freedom, be it more
or less, depends on a principle entirely different from our
own. Here the immunities do not proceed from, but they
are granted to the government; being, in other words, con-
cessions of natural rights made by the people to the state,
for the benefits of social protection. So long as this vital dif-
ference shall exist between ourselves and other nations, it will
be vain to think of finding material analogies in the institu-
tions. It is true that, in an age like this, public opinion is
itself a charter, and that the most despotic government which
exists within the pale of Christendom, must, in some degree,
respect its influence. The mildest and justest governments
in Europe are, at this moment, theoretically despotisms.
The characters of both prince and people enter largely into
the consideration of so extraordinary results, but it should
never be forgotten that, though the character of the latter be
sufficiently secure, that of the former is liable to change.
Admitting, however, every benefit which can possibly flow
from a just administration, with wise and humane princes, a
government which is not properly based on the people,
possesses an unavoidable and oppressive evil of the first
magnitude, in that of the necessity of supporting itself by
physical force and onerous impositions, against the natural
action of the majority.
Were we to characterise a republic, we should say it is


PREFACE.
jii
a state in which power, both theoretically and practically, is
derived from the nation, with a constant responsibility of the
agents of the public to the people; a responsibility that is
neither to be evaded nor denied. That such a system is better
on a large than on a small scale, though contrary to brilliant
theories which have been written to uphold different institu-
tions, must be evident on the smallest reflection, since the
danger of all popular governments is from popular mistakes,
and a people of diversified interests and extended territorial
possessions are much less likely to be their subjects than the
inhabitants of a single town or county. If to this definition
we should add, as an infallible test of the genus, that a true
republic is a government of which all others are jealous and
vituperative on the instinct of self-preservation, we believe
there would be no mistaking the class. How far Venice
would have been obnoxious to this proof, the reader is left to
judge for himself.





THE BRAVO.
CHAPTER I.
“I stood in Venice, on the Bridge of Sighs,
A palace and a prison on each hand;
I saw from out the wave her structures rise,
As from the stroke of the enchanter's wand :
A thonsand years their cloudy wings expand
Around me, and a dying glory smiles
O’er the far times, when many a subject land
Look'd to the winged lions' marble piles,
Where Venice sat in state, thron’d on her hundred isles.”
BYRON.
The sun had disappeared behind the summits of the
Tyrolean Alps, and the moon was already risen above the
low barrier of the Lido. Hundreds of pedestrians were
pouring out of the narrow streets of Venice into the
square
of St. Mark, like water gushing through some strait
aqueduct, into a broad and bubbling basin. Gallant ca-
valieri and grave cittadini; soldiers of Dalmatia, and sea-
men of the galleys; dames of the city, and females of
lighter manners; jewellers of the Rialto, and traders from
the Levant; Jew, Turk, and Christian; traveller, adven-
turer, podestà, valet, avvocato and gondolier, held their
1
1


THE BRAVO.
way alike to the common centre of amusement. The hurried
air and careless eye; the measured step and jealous glance;
the jest and laugh; the song of the cantatrice, and the
melody of the flute; the grimace of the buffoon, and the
tragic frown of the improvisatore; the pyramid of the
gro-
tesque, the compelled and melancholy smile of the harpist,
cries of water-sellers, cowls of monks, plumage of warriors,
hum of voices, and the universal movement and bustle,
added to the more permanent objects of the place, rendered
the scene the most remarkable of Christendom.
On the very confines of that line which separates west-
ern from eastern Europe, and in constant communica-
tion with the latter, Venice possessed a greater admixture
of character and costume, than any other of the numerous
ports of that region. A portion of this peculiarity is still
to be observed, under the fallen fortunes of the place; but
al the period of our tale, the city of the isles, though no
longer mistress of the Mediterranean, nor even of the Adri-
atic, was still rich and powerful. Her influence was felt
in the councils of the civilized world; and her commerce,
though waning, was yet sufficient to uphold the vast pos-
sessions of those families, whose ancestors had become rich
in the day of her prosperity. Men lived among her islands
in that state of incipient lethargy, which marks the progress
of a downward course, whether the decline be of a moral
or of a physical decay.
At the hour we have named, the vast parallelogram of
the piazza was filling fast, the cafés and casinos within the
porticoes, which surround three of its sides, being already
thronged with company. While all beneath the arches was
gay
and brilliant with the flare of torch and lamp, the
noble range of edifices called the Procuratories, the mas-
sive pile of the ducal palace, the most ancient christian
church, the granite columns of the piazzetta, the triumphal
masts of the great square, and the giddy tower of the cam-


THE BRAVO.
3
ed
panile, were slumbering in the more mellow glow of the
moon.
e;
he
he
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Es,
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ed
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à -
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US
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ut
20
-i-
Facing the wide area of the great square stood the quaint
and venerable cathedral of San Marco. A temple of
trophies, and one equally proclaiming the prowess and the
piety of its founders, this remarkable structure presided
over the other fixtures of the place, like a monument of
the republic's antiquity and greatness. Its Saracenic ar-
chitecture, the rows of precious but useless little columns
that load its front, the low Asiatic domes which rest upon
its walls in the repose of a thousand years, the rude and
gaudy mosaics, and above all the captured horses of Co-
rinth, which start from out the sombre mass in the glory of
Grecian art, received from the solemn and appropriate
light, a character of melancholy and mystery, that well
comported with the thick recollections which crowd the
mind as the eye gazes at this rare relick of the past.
As fit companions to this edifice the other peculiar orna-
ments of the place stood at hand. The base of the campa-
nile lay in shadow, but a hundred feet of its grey summit
received the full rays of the moon along its eastern face.
The masts destined to bear the conquered ensigns of Can-
dia, Constantinople, and the Morea, cut the air by its
side, in dark and fairy lines, while at the extremity of the
smaller square, and near the margin of the sea, the forms of
the winged lion and the patron saint of the city, each on
his column of African granite, were distinctly traced against
the back ground of the azure sky.
It was near the base of the former of these massive blocks
of stone, that one stood who seemed to gaze at the animated
and striking scene, with the listlessness and indifference of
satiety. A multitude, some in masques and others care-
less of being known, had poured along the quay into the
piazetta, on their way to the principal square, while this
individual had scarce turned a glance aside, or changed a
e,
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ch
ds
ESS
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of
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4
THE BRAVO.
limb in weariness. His attitude was that of patient, prac-
tised and obedient waiting on another's pleasure. With
folded arms, a body poised on one leg, and a vacant though
goodhumoured eye, he appeared to attend some beck of
authority ere he quitted the spot. A silken jacket, in
whose tissue flowers of the gayest colours were interwoven,
the falling collar of scarlet, the bright velvet cap with
armorial bearings embroidered on its front, proclaimed
him to be a gondolier in private service.
Wearied at length with the antics of a distant group
of
tumblers, whose pile of human bodies had for a time arrest-
ed his look, this individual turned away, and faced the light
air from the water. Recognition and pleasure shot into
his countenance, and in a moment his arms were inter-,
locked with those of a swarthy mariner, who wore the
loose attire and Phrygian cap of men of his calling. The
gondolier was the first to speak, the words flowing from
him in the soft accents of his native islands.
“Is it thou, Stefano ? They said thou hadst fallen into
the gripe of the devils of Barbary, and that thou wast plant-
ing flowers for an infidel with thy hands, and watering them
with thy tears !"
The answer was in the harsher dialect of Calabria, and
it was given with the rough familiarity of a seaman.
“La Bella Sorrentina is no housekeeper of a curato!
She is not a damsel to take a siesta with a Tunisian rover
prowling about in her neighbourhood. Hadst ever been
beyond the Lido, thou wouldst have known the difference
between chasing the felucca and catching her.”
“Kneel down, and thank San Teodoro for his care.
There was much praying on thy decks that hour, caro Ste-
fano, though none is bolder among the mountains of Cala-
bria when thy felucca is once safely drawn upon the beach!”
The mariner cast a half-coinic, half-serious glance up-
ward at the image of the patron saint, ere he replied.


THE BRAVO.
There was more need of the wings of thy lion than of
the favour of thy saint. I never come further north for aid
than San Gennaro, even when it blows a hurricane."
“So much the worse for thee, caro, since the good bi-
shop is better at stopping the lava than at quieting the
winds. But there was danger, then, of losing the felucca
and her brave people among the Turks ?”
“There was, in truth, a Tunis-man prowling about,
between Stromboli and Sicily; but, Ali di San Michele !
he might better have chased the cloud above the volcano,
than run after the felucca in a sirocco !"
“Thou wast chicken-hearted, Stephano ?”
“I!—I was more like thy lion, here, with some small
additions of chains and muzzles.'
“As was seen by thy felucca's speed ?”
Gospetto! I wished myself a knight of San Giovanni a
thousand times during the chase, and La Bella Sorrentina
a brave Maltese galley, if it were only for the cause of
Cbristian honour! The miscreant hung upon my quarter
for the better part of three glasses ! so near, that I could
tell which of the knaves wore dirty cloth in his turban, and
which clean. It was a sore sight to a Christian, Stefano,
to see the right thus borne upon by an infidel.”
"And thy feet warmed with the thought of the basti-
nado, caro mio ?”
“I have run too often barefoot over our Calabrian
mountains, to tingle at the sole with every fancy of that
sort.
“Every man has his weak spot, and I know thine to be
dread of a Turk’s arm. Thy native hills have their soft as
well as their hard ground, but it is said the Tunisian
chooses a board knotty as his own heart, when he amuses
himself with the wailings of a Christian.
Well, the happiest of us all must take such as fortune
rings.
If my soles are to be shod with blows, the honest


6
THE BRAVO,
priest of Sant'Agata will be cheated of a penitent. I have
bargained with the good curato, that all such accidental
calamities shall go in the general account of penance. But
how fares the world of Venice?-and what dost thou
among the canals at this season, to keep the flowers of thy
jacket from wilting?”
- To-day as yesterday, and to-morrow will be as to-day.
I row the gondola from the Rialto to the Guidecca; from
San Giorgio to San Marco; from San Marco to the Lido,
and from the Lido home. There are no Tunis-men by the
way to chill the heart or warm the feet.”
Enough of friendship. And is there nothing stirring
in the republic ?no young noble drowned, nor any Jew
hanged ?”
“ Nothing of that much interest-except the calamity
which befel Pietro. Thou rememberest Pietrillo ? he who
crossed into Dalmatia with thee once, as a supernumerary,
the time he was suspected of having aided the young French -
man in running away with a senator's daughter ?”
“Do I remember the last famine? The rogue did no-
thing but eat maccaroni, and swallow the lachrymæ christi,
which the Dalmatian count had on freight.
“Poverino! His gondola has been run down by an An-
cona-man, who passed over the boat, as if it were a se-
nator stepping on a fly.”
“So much for little fish coming into deep water."
“ The honest fellow was crossing the Giudecca, with a
stranger who had occasion to say his prayers at the Reden-
tore, when the brig hit him in the canopy, and broke up
the gondola as if it had been a bubble left by the Bucen-
taur.
The padrone should have been too generous to com-
plain of Pietro's clumsiness, since it met with its own pu-
nishment.”
• Madre di Dio! He went to sea that hour, or he might


THE BRAVO.
7
be feeding the fishes of the Lagunes! There is not a gon-
dolier in Venice who did not feel the wrong at his heart;
and we know how to obtain justice for an insult, as well as
our masters.
“Well, a gondola is mortal, as well as a felucca, and
both have their time; better die by the prow of a brig,
than fall into the gripe of a Turk.—How is thy young mas-
ter, Gino ? and is he likely to obtain his claims of the
senate?"
“He cools himself in the Giudecca in the morning; and
if thou wouldst know what he does at evening, thou hast
only to look among the nobles in the Broglio.'
As the gondolier spoke, he glanced an eye aside, at a
group of patrician rank, who paced the gloomy arcades
which supported the superior walls of the doge's palace,
spot sacred, at times, to the uses of the privileged.
“I am no stranger to the habit thy Venetian nobles have
of coming to that low colonnade at this hour, but I never
before heard of their preferring the waters of the Giudecca
for their baths.”
“Were even the doge to throw himself out of a gondola,
he must sink or swim, like a meaner christian.”
“Acqua dell'Adriatico! Was the young duca going
to the Redentore, too, to say his prayers ?"
“He was coming back after having--but what matters
it in what canal a young noble sighs away the night! We
happened to be near when the Ancona-man performed his
feat : while Giorgio, and I were boiling with rage at the
awkwardness of the stranger, my master, who never had
much taste or knowledge in gondolas, went into the water
to save the young lady from sharing the fate of her uncle.”
"Diavolo! This is the first syllable thou hast uttered
concerning any young lady, or of the death of her uncle !"
Thou wert thinking of thy Tunis-man, and hast for-
gotten. I must have told thee how near the beautiful sig-
92


S
THE BRAVO.
nora was to sharing the fate of the gondola, and how the
loss of the Roman marchese weighs, in addition, on the
soul of the padrone.”
“ Santo Padre! That a christian should die the death
of a hunted dog by the carelessness of a gondolier !"
“It may have been lucky for the Ancona-man that it so
fell out, for they say the Roman was one of influence
enough to make a senator cross the Bridge of Sighs, at
need.”
“The devil take all careless watermen, say I !- And what
became of the awkward rogue ?”
“I tell thee he went outside the Lido, that very hour,
2
or
« Pietrello ?”
• He was brought up by the oar of Giorgio, for both of
us were active in saving the cushions and other valuables.”
Couldst thou do nothing for the poor Roman? Ill luck
may follow that brig on account of his death!”
• Ill luck follow her, say I, till she lays her bones on
some rock that is harder than the heart of her padrone.
As for the stranger, we could do no more than offer up a
prayer to San Teodoro, since he never rose after the blow.
But what has brought thee to Venice, caro mio ? for thy ill
fortune with the oranges, in the last voyage, caused thee
to denounce the place.
The Calabrian laid a finger on one cheek, and drew the
skin down, in a manner to give a droll expression to his
dark, comic eye, while the whole of his really fine Grecian
face was charged with an expression of coarse humour.
* "Look you, Gino—thy master sometimes calls for his
gondola between sunset and morning ?”
" An owl is not more wakeful than he has been of late.
This head of mine has not been on a pillow before the sun
has come above the Lido, since the snows melted from
Monselice."
77
7


THE BRAVO.
9
66
“And when the sun of thy master's countenance sets in
his own palazzo, thou hastenest off to the bridge of the
Rialto, among the jewellers and butchers, to proclaim the
manner in which he passed the night?”
“ Diamine! 'Twould be the last night I served the
Duca di Sant'Agata were my tongue so limber! The gon-
dolier and the conſessor are the two privy councillors of a
noble, Master Stefano, with this small difference--that the
last only knows what the sinner wishes to reveal, while the
first sometimes knows more. I can find a safer, if not a
more honest employment, than to be running about with
my master's secrets in the air.
And I am wiser than to let every Jew broker in San
Marco, here, have a peep into my charter-party.”
"Nay, old acquaintance, there is some difference be-
tween our occupations, after all. A padrone of a felucca
cannot, in justice, be compared to the most confidential
gondolier of a Neapolitan duke, who has an unsettled right
to be admitted to the council of Three-hundred.”.
“Just the difference between smooth water and rough-
you ruffle the surface of a canal with a lazy oar, while I
run the channel of Piombino in a mistral, shoot the Faro
of Messina in a white squall, double Santa Maria de Leuca
in a breathing Levanter, and come skimming up the Adri-
atic, before a sirocco that is hot enough to cook my mac-
caroni, and which sets the whole sea boiling worse than
the cauldrons of Scylla.
“ Hist!" eagerly interrupted the gondolier, who had in-
dulged, with Italian humour, in the controversy for pre-
eminence, though without any real feeling ; “ here comes
one who may think, else, we shall have need of his hand
to settle the dispute-Eccolo !"
The Calabrian recoiled a pace, in silence, and stood re-
garding the individual who had caused this hurried remark,


10
THE BRAVO.
with a gloomy but steady air. The stranger moved slowly
past. His years were under thirty, though the calm gra-
vity of his countenance imparted to it a character of more
mature age. The cheeks were bloodless, but they betrayed
rather the pallid hue of mental than of bodily disease. The
perfect condition of the physical man was sufficiently exhi.
bited, in the muscular fulness of a body, which, though
light and active, gave every indication of strength. His
step was firm, assured and even ; his carriage erect and
easy, and his whole mien was strongly characterized by a
self-possession that could scarcely escape observation. And
yet his attire was that of an inferior class. A doublet of
common velvet, a dark Montero cap, such as was then
much used in the southern countries of Europe, with other
vestments of a similar fashion, composed his dress. The
face was melancholy rather than sombre, and its perfect
repose accorded well with the striking calmness of the
body. The lineaments of the former, however, were bold
and even noble, exhibiting that strong and manly outline
which is so characteristic of the finer class of the Italian
countenance. Out of this striking array of features
gleamed an eye that was full of brilliancy, meaning, and
passion.
As the stranger passed, his glittering organs rolled over
the persons of the gondolier and his companion, but the
look, though searching, was entirely without interest.
'Twas the wandering but wary glance, which men, who
have much reason for distrust, habitually cast on a multi-
tude. It turned, with the same jealous keenness, on the
face of the next it encountered; and by the time the steady
and well balanced form was lost in the crowd, that quick
and glowing eye had gleamed, in the same rapid and uneasy
manner, on twenty others.
Neither the gondolier nor the mariner of Calabria spoke,


THE BRAVO.
11
until their riveted gazes, after the retiring figure, became
useless. Then the former simply ejaculated, with a strong
respiration
“Jacopo !”
His companion raised three of his fingers, with an occult
meaning, towards the palace of the doges.
“Do they let him take the air , even in San Marco ?” he
asked, in unfeigned surprise.
It is not easy, caro amico, to make water run up
stream, or to stop the downward current. It is said that
most of the senators would sooner lose their hopes of the
horned bonnet, than lose him. Jacopo ! He knows more
family secrets than the good Priore of San Marco him-
self, and he, poor man, is half his time in the confes-
sional !”
“Ay, they are afraid to put him in an iron jacket, lest
awkward secrets should be squeezed out.
"Corpo di Bacco ! there would be little peace in Venice,
if the Council of Three should take it into their heads to
loosen the tongue of yonder man in that rude manner.
“But they say, Gino, that thy Council of Three has a
fashion of feeding the fishes of the Lagunes, which might
throw the suspicion of his death on some unhappy Ancona-
man, were the body ever to come up again.
“Well, no need of bawling it aloud, as if thou wert hail-
ing a Sicilian through thy trumpet, though the fact should
To
say
the truth, there are few men in business
who are thought to have more custom than be who has
just gone up the piazzetta."
“Two sequins !" rejoined the Calabrian, enforcing his
meaning by a significant grimace.
“Santa Madonna! Thou forgettest, Stefano, that not
even the confessor has any trouble with a job in which he
has been employed. Not a caratano less than a hundred
will buy a stroke of his art. Your blows, for two sequins,
9
99
be so.


12
THE BRAVO
pause,
leave a man no leisure to tell tales, or even to say his
prayers half the time."
• Jacopo !” ejaculated the other, with an emphasis which
seemed to be a sort of summing up of all his aversion and
horror.
The gondolier shrugged his shoulders, with quite as
much meaning as a man born on the shores of the Baltic
could have conveyed by words; but he, too, appeared to
think the matter exhausted.
“ Stefano Milano,” he added, after a moment of
“ there are things in Venice which he, who would eat his
maccaroni in peace, would do well to forget. Let thy
errand in port be what it may, thou art in good season to
witness the regatta which will be given by the state, itself,
to-morrow.”
“ Hast thou an oar for that race ?"
“Giorgio's, or mine, under the patronage of San Teo-
doro. The prize will be a silver gondola to him who is
lucky or skilful enough to win; and then we shall have the
nuptials with the Adriatic.'
“ Thy nobles had best woo the bride well, for there are
heretics who lay claim to her good will. I met a rover of
strange rig and miraculous fleetness, in rounding the head-
lands of Otranto, who seemed to have half a mind to follow
the felucca in her path toward the Lagunes.
"Did the sight warm thee at the soles of thy feet, Gino
dear ?"
" There was not a turbaned head on his deck, but
every
sea-cap set upon a well-covered poll and a shorn chin.
Thy Bucentaur is no longer the bravest craft that floats
between Dalmatia and the islands, though her gilding may
glitter brightest. There are men beyond the Pillars of
Hercules who are not satisfied with doing all that can be
done on their own coasts, but who are pretending to do
much of that which can be done on ours.
>>


THE BRAVO.
13
“The republic is a little aged, caro, and years need rest.
.
The joints of the Bucentaur are racked by time and many
voyages to the Lido. I have heard my master say that the
leap of the winged lion is not as far as it was, even in his
young days."
“ Don Camillo has the reputation of talking boldly of
the foundations of this city of piles, when he has the roof
of old Sant'Agata safely over his head. Were he to speak
more reverently of the horned bonnet, and of the Council
of Three, his pretensions to succeed to the rights of his
forefathers might seem juster in the eyes of his judges.
But distance is a great mellower of colours, and softener of
fears. My own opinions of the speed of the felucca, and of
the merits of a Turk, undergo changes of this sort between
port and the open sea; and I have known thee, good Gino,
forget San Teodoro, and bawl as lustily to San Gennaro,
when at Naples, as if thou really fancied thyself in danger
from the mountain.'
“One must speak to those at hand, in order to be quick-
est heard,” rejoined the gondolier, casting a glance that
was partly humorous, and not without superstition, upwards
at the image which crowned the granite column, against
whose pedestal he still leaned. “ A truth which warns us
to be prudent, for yonder Jew cast a look.this way, as if
he felt a conscientious scruple in letting any irreverent
remark of ours go without reporting. The bearded old
rogue is said to have other dealings with the Three Hundred
besides asking for the moneys he has lent to their sons. And
so, Stefano, thou thinkest the republic will never plant
another mast of triumph in San Marco, or bring more tro-
phies to the venerable church?”
“Napoli herself, with her constant change of masters,
is as likely to do a great act on the sea, as thy winged beast,
just now! Thou art well enough to row a gondola in the
canals, Gino, or to follow thy møster to his Calabrian castle;


14
THE BRAVO.
but ifthou wouldst know what passes in the wide world, thou
must be content to listen to mariners of the long course.
The day of San Marco has gone by, and that of the heretics
more north has come.
Thou hast been much, of late, among the lying Ge-
noese, Stefano, that thou comest hither with these idle tales
of what a heretic can do. Genova la Superba! What has
a city of walls to compare with one of canals and islands,
like this ?-and what has that Appenine republic performed,
to be put in comparison with the great deeds of the Queen
of the Adriatic? Thou forgettest that Venezia has been-
“Zitto, zitto! that has been, caro mio, is a great word
with all Italy. Thou art as proud of the past, as a Roman
of the Trastevere."
“ And the Roman of the Trastevere is right. Is it no-
thing, Stefano Milano, to be descended from a great and
victorious people ?"
“ It is better, Gino Monaldi, to be one of a people which
is great and victorious just now. The enjoyment of the
past is like the pleasure of the fool who dreams of the wine
he drank yesterday.”
“ This is well for a Neapolitan, whose country never was
a nation,” returned the gondolier, angrily. I have heard
Don Camillo, who is one educated as well as born in the
land, often say that half of the people of Europe have ridden
the horse of Sicily, and used the legs of thy Napoly, except
those who had the best right to the services of both.”
“ Even so; and yet the figs are as sweet as ever,
and the
beccafichi as tender! The ashes of the volcano cover
all!”
Gino,” said a voice of authority, near the gondolier.
“Signore.”
He who interrupted the dialogue pointed to the boat,
without saying more.
“A rivederti,” hastily muttered the gondolier. His


THE BRAVO.
15
friend squeezed his band in perfect amity-for, in truth,
they were countrymen by birth, though chance had trained
the former on the canals-and, at the next instant, Gino
was arranging the cushions for his master, having first
aroused his subordinate brother of the oar from a profound
sleep.
CHAPTER II.
Hast ever swam in a gondola at Venice?
SHAKSPEARE.
When Don Camillo Monforte entered the gondola, he
did not take his seat in the pavilion. With an arm lean-
ing on the top of the canopy, and his cloak thrown loosely
over one shoulder, the young noble stood, in a musing at-
titude, until his dexterous servitors had extricated the boat
from the little fleet which crowded the quay, and had
urged it into open water. This duty performed, Gino
touched his scarlet cap, and looked at his master, as if to in-
quire the direction in which they were to proceed. He was
answered by a silent gesture, that indicated the route of
the great canal.
“Thou hast an ambition, Gino, to show thy skill in the
regatta ?” Don Camillo observed, when they had made a
little
progress.
“ The motive merits success. Thou wast
speaking to a stranger, when I summoned thee to the gon-
dola ? "
" I was asking the news of our Calabrian hills, from one
who has come into port with his felucca; though the man


16
THE BRAVO.
9
took the name of San Gennaro to witness that his former
luckless
voyage
should be the last.”
« How does he call his felucca, and what is the name of
the padrone ? ”
“ La Bella Sorrentina, commanded by a certain Stefano
Milano, son of an ancient servant of Sant'Agata. The bark
is none of the worst for speed, and it has some reputation
for beauty. It ought to be of happy fortune, too, for the
good curato recommended it, with many a devout prayer,
to the Virgin, and to San Francesco.
The noble appeared to lend more attention to the dis-
course, which, until now, on his part, had been com-
menced in the listless manner with which a superior
encourages an indulged dependant,
· La Bella Sorrentina ! Have I not reason to know the
bark ?”
Nothing more true, signore. Her padrone has rela-
tions at Sant'Agata, as I have told your eccellenza, and
his vessel has lain on the beach, near the castle, many a
bleak winter."
“ What brings him to Venice ?"
“ That is what I would give my newest jacket of your
eccelenza's colours to know, signore. I have as little wish
to inquire into other people’s affairs as any one, and I very
well know that discretion is the chief virtue of a gondolier.
I ventured, however, a deadly hint concerning his errand,
such as ancient neighbourhood would warrant, but he was
as cautious of his answers as if he were freighted with the
confessions of fifty christians. Now, if
should see fit to give me authority to question him, in your
name, the deuce is in't if, between respect for his lord, and
good management, we could not draw something more
than a false bill of lading from him."
Thou wilt take thy choice of my gondolas for the re-
your eccelenza


THE BRAVO.
17
yalta, Gino,” observed the Duke of Sant'Agata, entering
the pavilion, and throwing himself on the glossy black lea-
thern cushions, without adverting to the suggestion of his
servant.
The gondola continued its noiseless course, with the
sprite-like movement peculiar to that description of boat.
Gino, who, as superior over his fellow, stood perched on
the little arched deck in the stern, pushed his oar with
accustomed readiness and skill, now causing the light vessel
to steer to the right, and now to the left, as it glided among
the multitude of crafts, of all sizes and uses, which it met
in its passage. Palace after palace had been passed, and
more than one of the principal canals, which diverged to-
wards the different spectacles, or the other places of resort
frequented by his master, were left behind, without Don
Camillo giving any new direction. At length the boat
arrived opposite to a building, which seemed to excite more
than common expectation. Giorgio worked his oar with a
single band, looking over his shoulder at Gino, and Gino
permitted his blade fairly to trail on the water. Both
seemed to await new orders, manifesting something like
that species of instinctive sympathy with him they served,
which a long practised horse is apt to show when he draws
near a gate that is seldom passed unvisited by his driver.
The edifice which caused this hesitation in the two gon-
doliers, was one of those residences of Venice, which are
quite as remarkable for their external riches and ornaments,
as for their singular situation amid the waters. A massive
rustic basement of marble was seated as solidly in the ele-
ment, as if it grew from a living rock, while story was seem-
ingly raised on story, in the wanton observance of the most
capricious rules of a meretricious architecture, until the
pile reached an altitude that is little known, except in the
dwellings of princes. Colonnades, medallions, and mas-
sive cornices, overhung the canal, as if the art of man had


. 18
THE BRAVO.
22
taken pride in loading the superstructure in a manner to
mock the unstable element which concealed its base. A
flight of steps, on which each gentle undulation produced
by the passage of the barge washed a wave, conducted to
a vast vestibule, that answered many of the purposes of a
court. Two or three gondolas were moored near, but the
absence of their people showed they were for the use of
those who dwelt within. The boats were protected from
rough collision with the passing craft, by piles driven ob-
liquely into the bottom. Similar spars, with painted and
ornamented heads, that sometimes hore the colours and
arms of the proprietor, formed a sort of little haven for the
gondolas of the household, before the door of every dwell-
ing of mark.
- Where is it the pleasure of your eccellenza to be
rowed ?” asked Gino, when he found his sympathetic de-
lay had produced no order.
« To the Palazzo."
Giorgio threw a glance of surprise back at his comrade,
but the obedient gondola shot by the gloomy, though rich
abode, as if the little bark had suddenly obeyed an inward
impulse. In a moment more, it wbirled aside, and the
hollow sound, caused by the plash of water between high
walls, announced its entrance into a narrower canal. With
shortened oars, the men still urged the boat a-head, now
turning short into some new channel, now glancing beneath
a low bridge, and now uttering, in the sweet shrill tones
of the country and their craft, the well-known warning to
those who were darting in an opposite direction. A back
stroke of Gino's oar, however, soon brought the side of the
arrested boat to a flight of steps.
• Thou wilt follow me,” said Don Camillo, as he placed
his foot, with the customary caution, on the moist stone,
and laid a hand on the shoulder of Gino; “I have need of
thee.”
92


THE BRAVO.
19
C
OIN
b.
end
ell
bi
de
Neither the vestibule, nor the entrance, nor the other
visible accessaries of the dwelling, were so indicative of
luxury and wealth as that of the palace on the great canal.
Still, they were all such as denoted the residence of a noble
of consideration.
“ Thou wilt do wisely, Gino, to trust thy fortunes to
The new gondola," said the master, as he mounted the
heavy stone stairs, to an upper floor, pointing as he spoke
to a new and beautiful boat, which lay in a corner of the
large vestibule, as carriages are seen standing in the courts
of houses built on more solid ground. “He who would
find favour with Jupiter, must put his own shoulder to the
wheel, thou knowest, my friend."
The eye of Gino brightened, and he was voluble in his
expression of thanks. They had ascended to the first floor,
and were already deep in a suite of gloomy apartments,
before the gratitude and professional pride of the gondolier
were exhausted.
“ Aided by a powerful arm and a fleet gondola, thy
chance will be as good as another's, Gino,” said Don Ca-
millo, closing the door of his cabinet on his servant; "at
present, thou mayest give some proof of zeal in my service,
in another manner.
Is the face of a man called Jacopo
Frontoni known to thee?"
“Eccellenza !” exclaimed the gondolier, gasping for
breath.
" I ask thee if thou knowest the countenance of one
named Frontoni !"
“ His countenance, Signore !"
By what else wouldst thou distinguish a man?”
“A man, Signor Don Camillo !"
“ Art thou mocking thy master, Gino! I have asked
thee if thou art acquainted with the person of a certain
Jacopo Frontoni; a dweller here in Venice ?"
“Eccellenza, yes.
de
ard
Ebe
Om
th
1
ne !
to !
ck
ed
ae,
O!
2
"
2 *


20
THE BRAVO.
#
“ He I mean has been long remarked by the misfortunes
of his family, the father being now in exile on the Dal-
matian coast, or elsewhere.”
“Eccellenza, yes."
“ There are many of the name of Frontoni, and it is im-
portant that thou shouldst not mistake the man. Jacopo,
,
of that family, is a youth of some five-and-twenty, of an
active frame and melancholy visage, and of less vivacity of
temperament than is wont, at his years."
“ Eccellenza, yes.
« One who resorts but little with his fellows, and who is
rather noted for the silence and industry with which he
attends to his concerns, than for any of the usual plea-
santries and trifling of men of his cast. A certain Jacopo
Frontoni, that hath his abode somewhere near the arsenal ?"
Cospetto! Signor' Duca, the man is as well known to
us gondoliers, as the bridge of the Rialto! Your eccellenza
has no need to trouble yourself to describe him."
Don Camillo Monforte was searching among the papers
of a secretary: He raised his eyes, in some little amaze-
ment, at the sally of his dependant, and then he quietly
resumed his occupation.
“ If thou knowest the man, it is enough.”
Eccellenza, yes. And what is your pleasure with this
accursed Jacopo ?”
The Duke of Sant'Agata seemed to recollect himself.
He replaced the papers which had been deranged, and he
closed the secretary.
“Gino,” he said, in a tone of confidence and amity,
“thou wert born on my estates, though so long trained
here to the oar in Venice, and thou hast passed thy life in
my service.”
“Eccellenza, yes."
“It is my desire that thou shouldst end thy days where
they began. I have had much confidence in thy discre-


THE BRAVO.
21
>>
9
lion, hitherto, and I have satisfaction in saying it has never
failed thee, notwithstanding thou hast necessarily been a
witness of some exploits of youth, which might have drawn
embarrassment on thy master, were thy tongue less dis-
posed to silence.”
“Eccellenza, yes.
Don Camillo smiled; but the gleam of humour gave
way to a look of grave and anxious thought.
“As thou knowest the person of him I have named, our
affair is simple. Take this packet," he continued, placing
a sealed letter of more than usual size into the hand of the
gondolier, and drawing from his finger a signet ring, “with
this token of thy authority. Within that arch of the
Doge's palace, which leads to the canal of San Marco, be-
neath the Bridge of Sighs, thou wilt find Jacopo. Give
him the packet; and should he demand it, withhold not
the ring. Wait his bidding, and return with the answer.
Gino received this commission with profound respect,
but with an awe he could not conceal. Habitual deference
to his master appeared to struggle with deep distaste for
the office he was required to perform; and there was even
some manifestation of a more principled reluctance, in his
hesitating yet humble manner. If Don Camillo noted the
air and countenance of his menial at all, he effectually
concealed it.
“At the arched passage of the palace, beneath the Bridge
of Sighs,” he coolly added; "and let thy arrival there be
timed, as near as may be, to the first hour of the night."
“I would, Signore, that you had been pleased to com-
mand Giorgio and me to row you to Padua !"
“ The way is long. Why this sudden wish to weary
thyself?"
Because there is no Doge's palace, nor any Bridge of
Sighs, nor any dog of Jacopo Frontoni, among the mea-
dows."
22


22
THE BRAVO.
22
“ Thou hast little relish for this duty; but thou must
know that what the master commands, it is the duty of a
faithful follower to perform. Thou wert born my vassal,
Gino Monaldi, and though trained from boyhood in this
occupation of a gondolier, thou art properly a being of my
fiefs, in Napoli.”
“St. Gennaro make me grateful for the honour, Signore!
But there is not a water-seller in the streets of Venice, 'nor
a mariner on her canals, who does not wish this Jacopo any
where but in the bosom of Abraham. He is the terror of
every young lover, and of all the urgent creditors on the
islands."
“Thou seest, silly babbler, there is one of the former,
at least, who does not hold him in dread. Thou wilt seek
hiin beneath the Bridge of Sighs, and, showing the signet,
deliver the packet according to my instructions."
" It is certain loss of character to be seen speaking with
the miscreant! So lately as yesterday, I heard Annina,
the pretty daughter of the old wine-seller on the Lido, de-
clare, that to be seen once in company with Jacopo Fron-
toni was as bad as to be caught twice bringing old rope
from the arsenal, as befel Roderigo, her mother's cousin.”
“ Thy distinctions savour of the morals of the Lido.
Remember to exhibit the ring, lest he distrust thy errand."
“ Could not your eccellenza set me about clipping the
wings of the lion, or painting a better picture than Tiziano
di Vecelli? I have a mortal dislike even to pass the mere
compliments of the day with one of your cut-throats.
Were any of our gondoliers to see me in discourse with
the man, it might exceed your eccellenza's influence to get
me a place in the regalta.'
“ If he detain thee, Gino, thou wilt wait his pleasure;
and if he dismiss thee at once, return bither with all ex-
pedition, that I may know the result.”
“I very well know, Signor Don Camillo, that the ho-


THE BRAVO.
nour of a noble is more tender of reproach than that of his
followers, and that the stain upon the silken robe of a sc-
nator is seen farther than the spot upon a velvet jacket.
If aay one unworthy of your eccellenza's notice has dared
to offend, here are Giorgio and I, ready, at any time, lo
show how deeply we can feel an indignity which touches
out master's credit; but a hireling of two, or ten, or even
of a hundred sequins !"
“I thank thee for the hint, Gino. Go thou and sleep
in thy gondola, and bid Giorgio come into my cabinet."
“Signore !"
" Art thou resolute to do none of my biddings ?”
“ Is it your eccellenza's pleasure that I go to the Bridge
of Sighs by the footways of the streets, or by the canals p":
“There may be need of a gondola--thou wilt
go
with
the oar.
“A tumbler shall not have time to turn round before
the answer of Jacopo shall be here."
With this sudden change of purpose, the gondolier
quitted the room; for the reluctance of Gino disappeared
the moment he found the confidential duty assigned him
by his master was likely to be performed by another.
Descending rapidly, by a secret stair, instead of entering
the vestibule, where half a dozen menials of different em-
ployments were in waiting, he passed by one of the narrow
corridors of the palace into an inner court, and thence by
a low and unimportant gate into an obscure alley, which
communicated with the nearest street.
Though the age is one of so great activity and intelligence,
and the Atlantic is no longer a barrier even to the ordinary
amusements of life, a great majority of Americans have
never had an opportunity of personally examining the re-
markable features of a region, of which the town that Gino
now threaded with so much diligence, is not the least
worthy of observation. Those who have been so fortunate


24
THE BRAVO.
as to have visited Italy, therefore, will excuse us if we make
a brief, but what we believe useful, digression, for the
benefit of those who have not had that advantage.
The city of Venice stands on a cluster of low, sandy
islands. It is probable that the country which lies nearest
to the gulf, if not the whole of the immense plain
of Lombardy itself, is of alluvial formation. Whatever
may have been the origin of that wide and fertile king-
dom, the causes which have given to the Lagunes their
existence, and to Venice its unique and picturesque
foundation, are too apparent to be mistaken. Several
torrents, which flow from the valleys of the Alps, pour
their tribute into the Adriatic at this point. Their
waters come charged with the debris of the mountains, pul-
verized nearly to their original elements. Released from
the violence of the stream, these particles have necessarily
been deposited in the gulf, at the spot where they have
first become subjected to the power of the sea.
Under
the influence of counteracting currents, eddies, and waves,
the sands have been thrown into submarine piles, until
some of the banks have risen above the surface, forming
islands, whose elevation has been gradually augmented by
the decay of vegetation. A glance at the map will show
that, while the Gulf of Venice is not literally, it is, practi-
cally, considered with reference to the effect produced by
the south-east wind called the Scirocco, at the head of the
Adriatic. This accidental circumstance is probably the
reason why the Lagunes have a more determined character
at the mouths of the minor streams that empty themselves
here, than at the mouths of most of the other rivers, which
equally flow from the Alps or the Appenines, into the same
shallow sea.
The natural
consequence
of the current of a river meet-
ing the waters of any broad basin, and where there is no
base of rock, is the formation, at or near the spot where


THE BRAVO,
25
the opposing actions are neutralized, of a bank, which is
technically called a bar. The coast of the Union furnishes
constant evidence of the truth of this theory, every
river
having its bar, with channels, that are often shifted, or
cleared, by the freshets, the gales, or the tides. The con-
stant and powerful operation of the south-eastern winds on
one side, with the periodical increase of the Alpine streams
on the other, have converted this bar at the entrance of
the Venetian Lagunes, into a succession of long, low, sandy
islands, which extend in a direct line, nearly across the
mouth of the gulf. The waters of the rivers have neces-
sarily cut a few channels for their passage, or, what is now
a lagune would long since have become a lake. Another
thousand
years may so far change the character of this ex-
traordinary estuary, as to convert the channels of the bay
into rivers, and the muddy banks into marshes and meadows,
resembling those that are now seen for so many leagues
inland.
The low margin of sand that, in truth, gives all its ma-
ritime security to the port of Venice and the Lagunes, is
called the Lido di Palestrino. It has been artificially con
nected and secured, in many places, and the wall of the
Lido (literally the beach), though incomplete, like most of
the great and vaunted works of the other hemisphere, and
more particularly of Italy, ranks with the mole of Ancona,
and the sea-wall of Cherbourg. The hundred little islands
which now contain the ruins of what, during the middle
ages, was the mart of the Mediterranean, are grouped to-
gether within cannon-shot of the natural barrier. Art has
united with nature to turn the whole to good account; and,
apart from the influence of moral causes, the rivalry of a
neighbouring town, which has been fostered by political
care, and the gradual filling up of the waters by the con-
stant deposit of the streams, it would be difficult to imagine


26
THE BRAVO.
a more commodious, or a safer haven when entered, than
that which Venice affords, even to this hour.
As all the deeper channels of the Lagunes bare been
preserved, the city is intersected, in every direction, by
passages, which, from their appearance, are called canals,
but which, in truth, are no more than so many small na-
tural branches of the sea. On the margin of these passages,
the walls of the dwellings arise literally from out of the
water, since
economy
of room has caused their owners to
extend their possessions to the very verge of the channel,
in the manner that quays and wharfs are pushed into the
streams in our own country. In many instances the islands
themselves were no more than banks, which were periodi-
cally bare, and on all, the use of piles has been necessary
to support the superincumbent loads of palaces, churches,
and public monuments, under which, in the course of
ages, the humble spits of sand have been made to groan.
The great frequency of the canals, and perhaps some
attention to economy of labour, has given to by far the
greater part of the buildings the facility of an approach
by water. But, while nearly every dwelling has one of its
fronts on a canal, there are always communications by the
rear with the interior passages of the town. It is a fault in
most descriptions, that while the stranger hears so much of
the canals of Venice, but little is said of her streets : still,
narrow, paved, commodious, and noiseless passages, of this
description, intersect all the islands, which communicate
with each other by means of a countless number of bridges.
Though the hoof of a horse, or the rumbling of a wheel is
never heard in these strait avenues, they are of great resort
for all the purposes of ordinary intercourse.
Gino issued into one of these thoroughfares, when he
quitted the private passage which communicated with the
palace of his master. He threaded the throng by which it


THE BRAVO.
27
was crowded, with a dexterity that resembled the windings
of an eel, among the weeds of the Lagunes. To the nu-
merous greetings of his fellows, he replied only by nods;
nor did he once arrest his footsteps, until they had led him
through the door of a low and dark dwelling, that stood in
a quarter of the place which was inhabited by people of an
inferior condition. Groping his way among casks, cordage,
and rubbish of all descriptions, the gondolier succeeded in
finding an inner and retired door, that opened into a small
room, whose only light came from a species of well, that
descended between the walls of the adjacent houses and that
in which he was.
“Blessed St. Anne! Is it thou, Gino Monaldi !” ex-
claimed a smart Venetian grisette, whose tones and manner
betrayed as much of coquetry as of surprise.
« On foot,
and by the secret door; is this an hour to come on any of
thy errands ?»
* Truly, Annina, it is not the season for affairs with thy
father, and it is something early for a visit to thee. But
there is less time for words than for action, just now. For
the sake of San Teodoro, and that of a constant and silly
young man, who, if not thy slave, is it least thy dog, bring
forth the jacket I wore when we went together to see the
merry-making at Fusina."
"I know nothing of thy errand, Gino, nor of thy reason
for wishing to change thy master's livery for the dress of
a common boatman. Thou art far moro comely with those
silken flowers, than in this faded velveteen; and if I have
ever said aught in commerdation of its appearance, it was
because we were bent on merry-making, and being one of
the
party, it would have been churlish to have withheld a
word of praise to a companion, who, as thou knowest, does
not dislike a civil speech in his own praise.
Zitto, zitto ! here is no merry-making and companions,
22
66


28
THE BRAVO.
99
but a matter of gravity, and one that must be performed
off-hand.—The jacket, if thou lovest me ?"
Annina, who had not neglected essentials while she mo-
ralized on motives, threw the garment on a stool, that stood
within reach of the gondolier's hand, as he made this strong
appeal, in a way to show that she was not to be surprised
out of a confession of this sort, even in the most unguarded
moment.
“If I love thee, truly! Thou hast the jacket, Gino, and
thou mayest search in its pockets for an answer to thy letter,
for which I do not thank thee for having got the duca's se-
cretary to indite. A maiden should be discreet in affairs
of this sort, for one never knows but he may make a con-
fidant of a rival."
Every word of it as true as if the devil himself had
done the office for me, girl," muttered Gino, uncasing him-
self from his flowery vestment, and as rapidly assuming the
plainer garment he had sought. “The cap, Annina, and
the mask?”
• One who wears so false a face, in common, has little
need of a bit of silk to conceal his countenance," she an-
swered, throwing him, notwithstanding, both the articles
he required.
“This is well-Father Battista himself, who boasts he
can tell a sinner from a penitent merely by the savour of
his presence, would never suspect a servitor of Don Ca-
millo Monforte in this dress! Cospelto ! but I have half a
inind to visit that knave of a Jew, who has got thy golden
chain in pledge, and give him a hint of what may be the
conséquences, should he insist on demanding double the
rate of interest we agreed on.
“''Twould be christian justice! but what would become
of thy matter of gravity the while, Gino, and of thy haste
to enter on its performance ?”
27


THE BRAVO.
29
e
“Thou sayest truly, girl. Duty, above all other things ;
though to frighten a grasping Hebrew may be as much of
a duty as other matters. Are all thy father's gondolas in
the water?"
“How else could he be gone to the Lido, and my bro-
ther Luigi to Fusini, and the two serving-men on the usual
business to the islands, or how else should I be alone ?”
· Diavolo ! is there no boat on the canal ?”
“Thou art in unwonted haste, Gino, now thou hast a
mask and a jacket of velvet ! I know not that I should
soffer one to enter my father's house, when I am in it alone,
and take such disguises to go abroad, at this hour. Thou
wilt tell me thy errand, that I may judge of the propriety
of what I do."
"Better ask the Three Hundred to open the leaves of
their book of doom! Give me the key of the outer door,
girl, that I may go my way.
“Not till I know whether this business is likely to draw
down upon my father the displeasure of the senate. Thou
knowest, Gino, that I am"
"Diamine! There goes the clock of San Marco, and I
tarry past my hour. If I am too late, the fault will rest
with thee!”
*• 'Twill not be the first of thy oversights, which it has
been
my
business to excuse. Here thou art, and here shalt
thou remain, until I know the errand which calls for a
mask and jacket, and all about this matter of gravity.”
“This is talking like a jealous wife, instead of a reason-
able girl, Annina. I have told thee that I am on business
of the last importance, and that delay may bring heavy ca-
lamities.”
On whom?-What is thy business? Why art thou,
whom in general it is necessary to warn from this house
by words many times repeated, now in such a haste to
leave it?”


30
THE BRAVO.
put faith
29
“ Have I not told thee, girl, 'tis an errand of great con-
cero to six noble families, and if I fail to be in season,
there may be a strife-ay, between the Florentines and the
republic!"
" Thou hast said nothing of the sort, nor do I
in thy being an ambassador of San Marco. Speak truth
for once, Gino Monaldi, or lay aside the mask and jacket,
and take up thy flowers of Sant' Agata.”
“Well, then, as we are friends, and I have faith in thy
discretion, Annina, thou shalt know the truth to the ex-
tremity, for I find the bell bas only tolled the quarters,
which leaves me yet a moment for conference.”
“ Thou lookest at the wall, Gino, and art consulting, thy
wits for some plausible lie !”.
“I look at the wall because conscience tells me that too
much weakness for thee is about to draw me astray from
duty. What thou takest for deceit is only shame and
modesty."
“Of that we shall judge, when the tale is told.”
· Then listen. Thou hast heard of the affair between
my master and the niece of the Roman Marchese, who was
drowned in the Giudecca, by ihe carelessness of an Anco-
naman, who passed over the gondola of Pietro as if his
felucca had been a galley of state ?”
“Who has been upon the Lido, the month past, without
hearing the tale repeated, with every variation of a gon-
”
“Well, the matter is likely to come to a conclusion
this night; my master is about to do, as I ſear, a very foolish
dolier's anger
thing !"
• He will be married ?"
“Or worse ;-I am sent, in all haste and secrecy, in
search of a priest.”
Annina manifested strong interest in the fiction of the
gondolier. Either from a distrustful temperament, long


THE BRAVO.
31
habit, or great familiarity with the character of her coin-
panion, however, she did not listen to his explanation with-
out betraying some doubts of its truth.
«s This will be a sudden bridal feast 1” she said, after a
moment of pause."'Tis well that few are invited, or its
savour might be spoiled by the Three Hundred! To what
convent art thou sent?”
“My errand is not particular. The first that may be
found, provided he be a Franciscan, and a priest likely to
have bowels for lovers in haste."
“Don Camillo Monforte, the heir of an ancient and great
line, does not wive with so little caution. Thy false tongue
has been trying to deceive me, Gino; but long use should
have taught thee the folly of the effort. Unless thou sayest
truth, not only shalt thou not go thy errand, but here art
thou prisoner at my pleasure.
"I may have told thee what I expect will shortly happen,
rather than what has happened. But Don Camillo keeps
me so much upon the water of late, that I do little beside
deram, when not at the oar.
“It is vain to attempt deceiving me, Gino, for thine eye
speaketh truth, let thy tongue and brains wander where
they will. Drink of this cup, and disburthen thy con-
science, like a man.
“I would that thy father would make the acquaintance
of Stefano Milano !" resumed the gondolier, taking a long
breath, after a still longer draught. “ 'Tis a padrone of
Calabria, who oftentimes brings into the port excellent li-
quors of his country, and who would pass a cask of the red
lachrymæ christi through the Broglio itself, and not a
noble of them all should see it. The man is here at pre-
sent, and, if thou wilt, he shall not be long without com-
ing into terms with thee for a few skins.”
“I doubt if he have better liquors than this which hath
.


32
THE BRAVO.
2
ripened upon the sands of the Lido. Take another draught,
for the second taste is thought to be better than the first.”
· If the wine improve in this manner, thy father should
be heavy-hearted at the sight of the lees! 'Twould be no
more than charity to bring him and Stefano acquainted.”.
“Why not do it, immediately? His felucca is in the port,
Thou sayest, and thou canst lead him hither by the secret
door and the lanes.”
“Thou forgettest my errand. Don Camillo is not used
to be served the second. Cospetto ! 'Twere a pity that
any other got the liquor which I am certain the Calabrian
has in secret.
" This errand can be no matter of a moment, like that
of being sure of wine of the quality thou namest; or,
if it
be, thou canst first dispatch thy master's business, and then
to the port, in quest of Stefano. That the purchase may
not fail, I will take a mask and be thy companion, to see
the Calabrian. Thou knowest my father hath much con-
fidence in my judgment in matters like this."
While Gino stood half stupified, and half delighted at
this proposition, the ready and wily Annina made some
slight change in her outer garments, placed a silken mask
before her face, applied a key to the door, and beckoned
to the gondolier to follow.
The canal, with which the dwelling of the wine-dealer
communicated, was narrow, gloomy, and little frequented.
A gondola of the plainest description was fastened near,
and the girl entered it, without appearing to think any
further arrangement necessary. The servant of Don Ca-
millo hesitated a single instant, but having seen that his
half-meditated project of escaping by the use of another
boat, could not be accomplished for want of means,
he
took his wonted place in the stern, and began to ply the
oar with mechanical readiness.


THE BRAVO,
33
CHAPTER III.
What well-appointed leader fronts us here?
King Henry VI.
The presence of Annina was a grave embarrassment to
Gino. He had his secret wishes and limited ambition, like
other men, and among the strongest of the former was the
desire to stand well in the favour of the wine-seller's daugh-
ter. But the artful girl, in catering to his palate with a
liquor that was scarcely less celebrated among people of
his class for its strength than its flavour, had caused a mo-
mentary confusion in the brain of Gino, that required time
to disperse. The boat was in the grand canal, and far on
its way to the place of its destination, before this happy
purification of the intellects of the gondolier had been suf-
ficiently effected. By that time, however, the exercise of
rowing, the fresh air of the evening, and the sight of so
many accustomed objects, restored his faculties to the ne-
cessary degree of coolness and forethought. As the boat
approached the end of the canal, he began to cast his eyes
about him in quest of the well-known felucca of the Ca-
labrian.
Though the glory of Venice had departed, the trade of
the city was not then at its present low ebb. The port was
still crowded with vessels from many distant havens, and
the flags of most of the maritime states of Europe were
seen, at intervals, within the barrier of the Lido. The
moon was now sufficiently high to cast its soft light on the
whole of the glittering basin, and a forest, composed of
lattin yards, of the slender masts of polaccas, and of the
C
3


31
THE BRAVO.
more massive and heavy hamper of regularly rigged ships,
was to be seen rising above the tranquil element.
Thou art no judge of a vessel's beauty, Annina,” said
the gondolier, who was deeply housed in the pavilion of the
boat, “else should I tell thee to look at this stranger from
Candia. 'Tis said that a fairer model has never entered
within the Lido than that same Greek!"
“Our errand is not with the Gandian trader, Gino; there-
fore, ply thy oar, for time presses.”
“There's plenty of rough Greek wine in his hold; but,
as thou sayest, we have nought with him. Yon tall ship,
which is moored without the smaller craft of our seas, is
the vessel of a Lutheran, from the islands of Inghilterra.
'Twas a sad day for the republic, girl, when it first per-
mitted the stranger to come into the waters of the Adri-
atic !”
"Is it certain, Gino, that the arm of St. Mark was strong
enough to keep him out ?”
Body of Diana ! I would rather thou didst not ask that
question in a place where so many gondolas are in motion!
Here are Ragusan, Maltese, Sicilians, and Tuscans, with-
out number; and a little fleet of French lie near each other,
there, at the entrance of the Guidecca. They are a people
who get together, afloat or ashore, for the benefit of the
tongue. Here we are, at the end of our journey."
The oar of Gino gave a backward sweep, and the gon-
dola was at rest, by the side of a felucca.
“ A happy night to the Bella Sorrentina and her worthy
padrone !" was the greeting of the gondolier, as he put his
foot on the deck of the vessel. “Is the honest Stefano
Milano on board the swift felucca ?”
The Calabrian was not slow to answer; and in a few mo-
ments the padrone and his two visitors were in close and
secret conference.
“I have brought one, here, who will be likely to put


THE BRAVO.
35
TH
1
good Venetian sequins into thy pocket, caro," observed
the gondolier, when the preliminaries of discourse had been
properly observed.
“ She is the daughter of a most con-
scientious wine-dealer, who is quite as ready at transplant-
ing your Sicilian grapes into the islands, as he is willing
and able to pay for them.”
* And one, no doubt, as handsome as she is ready," said
the mariner, with blunt gallantry, “were the black cloud
but fairly driven from before her face."
“A mask is of little consequence in a bargain, provided
the money be forthcoming. We are always in the Carnival
at Venice; and he who would buy, or he who would sell,
has the same right to hide his face as to bide his thoughts.
What hast thou in the way of forbidden liquors, Stefano,
that my companion may not lose the night in idle words ?”
“Per Diana! Master Gino, thou puttest thy questions
with little ceremony. The hold of the ſelucca is empty, as
thou mayest see by stepping to the batches; and as for any
liquor, we are perishing for a drop to warm the blood.”
And so far from coming to seek it here,” said Annina,
“we should have done better to have gone into the cathe-
dral, and said an Ave, for thy safe voyage home. And
now that our wit is spent, we will quit thee, friend Stefano,
for some other less skilful in answers.
“Cospetto! thou knowest not what thou sayest," whis-
pered Gino, when he found that the wary Annina was
not disposed to remain. “ The man never enters the
meanest creek in Italy, without having something useful
secreted in the felucca, on his own account. One purchase
of him would settle the question between the quality of thy
father's wines and those of Battista. There is not a gon-
dolier in Venice but will resort to thy shop, if the inter-
course with this fellow can be fairly settled.”
Annina hesitated ; long practised in the small, but secret,
and exceedingly hazardous commerce, which her father,
1
1.
1
3*


36
THE BRAVO.
notwithstanding the vigilance and severity of the Venetian
police, had thus far successfully driven, she neither liked
to risk an exposure of ber views to an utter stranger, nor to
abandon a bargain that promised to be lucrative. That
Gino trifled with her, as to his true errand, needed no con-
firmation, since a servant of the Duke of Sant'Agata was
not likely to need a disguise to such a priest; but she knew
his zeal for her personal welfare too well, to distrust bis
faith in a matter that concerned her own safety.
“ If thou distrust that any here are the spies of the au-
thorities,” she observed to the padrone, with a manner that
readily betrayed her wishes, “it will be in Gino's power lo
undeceive thee.-— Thou wilt testify, Gino, that I am not to
be suspected of treachery in an affair like this."
“Leave me to put a word into the private ear of the Ca-
labrian,” said the gondolier, significantly.—“Stefano Mi-
lano, if thou love me,” he continued, when they were a
little apart, “ keep the girl in parley, and treat with her,
fairly, for thy adventure.”
“Shall I sell the vintage of Don Camillo, or that of the
Viceroy of Sicily, caro ? There is as much wine of each,
on board the Bella Sorrentina, as would float the fleet of
the republic.”
If, in truth, thou art dry, then feign that thou hast
it, and differ in thy prices. Entertain her, but a minute,
with fair words, while I can get, unseen, into my gondola,
and then, for the sake of an old and tried friend, put her
tenderly on the quay,
in the best manner thou art able.”
6. I begin to see into the nature of the trade,” returned
the pliant padrone, placing a finger on the side of his nose.
“I will discourse the woman by the hour, about the flavour
of the liquor, or if thou wilt, of her own beauty, but lo
squeeze a drop of any thing better than the water of the
Lagunes out of the ribs of the felucca, would be a miracle
worthy of San Teodoro."
6
2


THE BRAVO.
37
>>
There is little need to touch on aught but the quality
of thy wine. The girl is not like most of her sex, and she
takes sudden offence when there is question of her ap-
pearance. Indeed, the mask she wears is as much to hide
a face that has little to tempt the eye, as from any wish at
concealment.”
“Since Gino has entered frankly into the matter,” re-
sumed the quick-witted Calabrian, cheerfully, and with an
air of sudden confidence, to the expectant Annina, "I begin
to see more probability of our understanding each other's
meaning. Deign, bella donna, to go into my poor cabin,
where we will speak more at our ease, and something
more to our mutual profit, and mutual security.”
Annina was not without secret doubts, but she suffered
the padrone to lead her to the stairs of the cabin, as if she
were disposed to descend. Her back was no sooner turned,
than Gino slid into the gondola, which one shove of his
vigorous arm sent far beyond the leap of man. The action
was sudden, rapid, and noiseless; but the jealous eye of
Annina detected the escape of the gondolier, though not in
time to prevent it. Without betraying uneasiness, she sub-
mitted to be led below, as if the whole were done by
previous concert.
"Gino has said that you have a boat which will do the
friendly office to put me on the quay, when our conference
is over,” she remarked, with a presence of mind that luckily
met the expedient of her late companion.
“ The felucca itself should do that much, were there-
want of other means," gallantly returned the mariner, when
they disappeared in the cabin.
Free to discharge his duty, Gino now plied his task with
redoubled zeal. The light boat glided among the ves .
sels, inclining, by the skilful management of his single oar,
in a manner to avoid all collision, until it entered the
narrow canal wbich separates the palace of the Doge from


38
THE BRAVO.
the more beautiful and classic struclure that contains the
prisons of the republic. The bridge, which continues the
communication of the quays, was first passed, and then he
was stealing beneath that far-famed arch which supports a
covered gallery leading from the upper story of the palace
into that of the prisons, and which, from its being appro-
priated to the passage of the accused from their cells to the
presence of their judges, has been so poetically, and, it
may be added, so pathetically called the Bridge of Sighs.
The oar of Gino now relaxed its efforts, and the gondola
approached a flight of steps, over which, as usual, the
water east its little waves. Stepping on the lowest flag, he
thrust a small iron spike, to which a cord was attached,
into a crevice between two of the stones, and left his boat to
the security of this characteristic fastening. When this
little precaution was observed, the gondolier passed up
lightly beneath the massive arch of the water-gate of the
palace, and entered its large but gloomy court.
At that hour, and with the temptation of the gay scene
which offered in the adjoining square, the place was nearly
deserted. A single female water-carrier was at the well,
waiting for the element to filter into its basin, in order to
fill her buckets, while her ear listened in dull attention to
the hum of the moving crowd without. A halberdier paced
the open gallery at the head of the Giant's Stairs, and,
here and there, the footfall of other sentinels might be
heard among the hollow and ponderous arches of the long
corridors. No light was shed from the windows; but the
entire building presented a fit emblem of that mysterious
power which was known to preside over the fortunes of
Venice and her citizens. Ere Gino trusted himself without
the shadow of the passage by which he had entered, two
or three curious faces had appeared at the opposite en
trance of the court, where they paused a moment to gaze
at the melancholy and imposing air of the dreaded palace,


THE BRAVO.
39.
1
before they vanished in the throng which trifled in the im-
mediate proximity of that secret and ruthless tribunal, as
man riots in security even on the verge of an endless and
unforeseen future.
Disappointed in his expectation of meeting him he sought,
on the instant, the gondolier advanced, and taking courage
by the possibility of his escaping altogether from the inter-
view, he ventured to furnish audible evidence of his pre-
sence by a loud hem. At that instant a figure glided into
the court from the side of the quay, and walked swiftly
towards its centre. The heart of Gino beat violently, but
he mustered resolution to meet the stranger. As they
drew near each other, it became evident, by the light of
the moon, which penetrated even to that gloomy spot, that
the latter was also masked.
“San Teodoro and San Marco have you in mind !" coin-
menced the gondolier; “if I mistake not, you are the man
I am sent to meet."
The stranger started, and first manifesting an intention
to pass on quickly, he suddenly arrested the movement to
reply.
“This may be so, or not. Unmask, that I may judge
by thy countenance if what thou sayest be true.”
"By your good leave, most worthy and honourable si-
gnore, and if it be equally agreeable to you and my master,
I would choose to keep off the evening air by this bit of
pasteboard and silk.”
“Here are none to betray thee, wert thou naked as at
thy birth. Unless certain of thy character, in what man-
ner may I confide in thy honesty ?”
• I have no distrust of the virtues of an undisguised face,
signore, and therefore do invite you, yourself, to exhibit
what nature has done for you in the way of features, that
I, who am to make the confidence, be sure it be to the right
person."


40
THE BRAVO.
“This is well, and gives assurance of thy prudence. I
may not unmask, however; and as there seemeth little
probability of our coming to an understanding, I will go
my way. A most happy night to thee.”
“Cospetto !---signore, you are far too quick in your ideas
and movements for one little used to negociations of this
sort. Here is a ring whose signet may help us to under-
stand each other."
The stranger took the jewel, and holding the stone in a
manner to receive the light of the moon, he started in a
manner to betray both surprise and pleasure.
“This is the falcon crest of the Neapolitan—he that is
the lord of Sant'Agata !"
· And of many other fiefs, good signore, to say nothing
of the honours he claims in Venice.
Am I right in sup-
posing my errand with you?”
“Thou hast found one whose present business has no
other object than Don Camillo Monforte. But thy errand
was not solely to exhibit the signet ?”
“So little so, that I have a packet here which waits only
for a certainty of the person with whom I speak, to be
placed into his hands.”
The stranger mused a moment; then glancing a look
about him, he answered hurriedly-
“This is no place to unmask, friend, even though we
only wear our disguises in pleasantry. Tarry here, and at
my return I will conduct thee to a more fitting spot.
The words were scarcely uttered when Gino found him-
self standing in the middle of the court alone. The masked
stranger had passed swiftly on, and was at the bottom of
the Giant's Stairs, ere the gondolier had time for reflection.
He ascended with a light and rapid step, and without regard-
ing the halberdier, he approached the first of three or four
orifices which opened into the wall of the palace, and which,
from the heads of the animal being carved in relief around


THE BRAVO.
41
them, had become famous as the receptacles of secret ac-
cusations, under the name of the Lion's Mouths. Some-
thing he dropped into the grinning aperture of the marble,
though what, the distance and the obscurity of the gallery
prevented Gino from perceiving; and then his form was
seen gliding like a phantom down the flight of massive
steps.
Gino bad retired towards the arch of the water-gate, in
expectation that the stranger would rejoin him within its
shadows; but, to his great alarm, he saw the form darting
through the outer portal of the palace into the square of
St. Mark. It was not a moment ere Gino, breathless with
haste, was in chase. On reaching the bright and gay
scene of the piazza, which contrasted with the gloomy
court he had just quitted, like morning with night, he saw
the utter fruitlessness of further pursuit. Frightened at
the loss of his master's signet, however, the indiscreet but
well-intentioned gondolier rushed into the crowd, and tried
in vain to select the delinquent from among a thousand
masks.
· Harkee, signore,” uttered the half-distracted gondolier
to one, who, having first examined his person with dis-
trust, evidently betrayed a wish to avoid him; “ if thou
hast sufficiently pleased thy finger with my master's signet,
the occasion offers to return it.”
“I know thee not,” returned a voice, in which Gino's
ear could detect no familiar sound.
• It
may not be well to trifle with the displeasure of a
noble as powerful as him you know;" he whispered at the
elbow of another, who had come under his suspicions.
“ The signet, if thou pleasest, and the affair need go no
further.”
"He who would meddle in it, with or without that
gage, would do well to pause.
The gondolier again turned away disappointed.
92
29


THE BRAVO.
“The ring is not suited to thy masquerade, friend of
mine,” he essayed with a third; “ and it would be wise
not to trouble the podestà about such a trifle."
“Then name it not, lest he hear thee.”
The answer
proved, like all the others, unsatisfactory and bootless.
Gino now ceased to question any; but he threaded the
throng with an active and eager eye. , Fifty times was he
tempted to speak, but as often did some difference in sta-
ture or dress, some laugh, or trifle uttered in levity, warn
him of his mistake. He penetrated to the very head of
the piazza, and, returning by the opposite side, he found
way through the throng of the porticoes, looking into
every coffee-house, and examining each figure that floated
by, until he again issued into the piazetta, without success.
A slight jerk at the elbow of his jacket arrested his steps,
and he turned to look at the person who had detained him.
A female attired like a contadina addressed him in the
feigned voice common to all.
“Whither so fast, and what hast thou lost in this merry
crowd? If a heart, 'twill be wise to use diligence, for
may be willing to wear the jewel !"
Corpo di Bacco !” exclaimed the disa ppointed gon-
dolier; "any who find such a bauble of mine under foot,
are welcome to their luck! Hast thou seen a domino of a
size like that of any other man, with a gait that might pass
for the step of a senator, padre, or Jew, and a mask that
looks as much like a thousand of these in the square as
one side of the campanile is like the other ?”
“Thy picture is so well drawn, that one cannot fail to
know the original. He stands beside thee."
Gino wheeled suddenly, and saw that a grinning harle-
quin was playing his antics in the place where he had ex-
pected to find the stranger.
“ And thy eyes, bella contadina, are as dull as a mole's.”
He ceased speaking, for, deceived in his person, she who
many here


THE BRAVO.
43
had saluted him was no longer visible. In this inanner
did the disappointed gondolier thread his way toward the
water, now answering to the boisterous salute of some
clown, and now repelling the advances of females less dis-
guised than the pretended contadina, until he gained a
space near the quays, where there was more room for ob-
servation. Here he paused, undetermined whether to
return and confess his indiscretion to his master, or whe-
ther he should make still another effort to regain the ring
which had been so sillily lost. The vacant space between
the two granite columns was left to the quiet possession of
himself and one other, who stood near the base of that
which sustained the Lion of St. Mark, as motionless as if
he too were merely a form of stone. Two or three strag-
glers, either led by idle curiosity, or expecting to meet one
appointed to await their coming, drew near this immoveable
man, but all glided away, as if there were repulsion in his
marble-like countenance. Gino had witnessed several in-
stances of this evident dislike to remain near the unknown
figure, ere he felt induced to cross the space between them
in order to inquire into its cause. A slow movement, at
the sound of his footstep, brought the rays of the moon
full upon the calm countenance and searching eye of the
very man he sought.
The first impulse of the gondolier, like that of all the
others he had seen approach the spot, was to retreat; but
the recollection of his errand and his loss came in season
to prevent such an exhibition of his disgust and alarm.
Still he did not speak; but he met the riveted gaze of the
Bravo with a look that denoted, equally, confusion of in-
tellect and a half-settled purpose.
.
“Wouldst thou aught with me?” demanded Jacopo,
when the gaze of each had continued beyond the term of
accidental glances.
“My master's signet ?”


THE BRAVO.
“I know thee not.
“ That image of San Teodoro could testify that this is
holy truth, if it would but speak! I have not the honour
of your friendship, Signor Jacopo; but one may have affairs
even with a stranger. If you met a peaceable and innocent
gondolier, in the court of the palace, since the clock of the
piazza told the last quarter, and got from him a ring, which
can be of little use to any but its rightful owner, one so
generous will not hesitate to return it.”
“Dost - thou take me for a jeweller of the Rialto, that
thou speakest to me of rings ?”
“I take you for one well known and much valued by
many of name and quality, here in Venice, as witness my
errand from my own master.”
“Remove thy mask. Men of fair dealing need not hide
the features which Nature has given them.”
“You speak nothing but truths, Signor Frontoni, which
is little remarkable, considering thy opportunities of look-
ing into the motives of men. There is little in my face to
pay you for the trouble of casting a glance at it. I would
as lief do as others in this gay season, if it be equally
agreeable to you."
“Do as thou wilt; but I pray thee to give me the same
permission.”
“ There are few so bold as to dispute thy pleasure,
Signore.'
“It is, to be alone."
“Cospelto! There is not a man in Venice who would
more gladly consult it, if my master's errand were fairly
done!" muttered Gino, between his teeth.-" I have, here,
a packet which it is my duty to put into your hands, Si-
gnore, and into those of no other."
“I know thee not thou hast a name?"
“Not in the sense in which you speak, Signore. As
to that sort of reputation, I am as nameless as a foundling.”
97


THE BRAVO.
45
“If thy master is of no more note than thyself, the packet
may be returned.”
There are few within the dominions of St. Mark of
better lineage, or of fairer hopes, than the Duke of Sant'
Agata.”
The cold expression of the Bravo's countenance changed.
“If thou comest from Don Camillo Monforte, why dost
thou besitate to proclaim it ?—Where are his requests ?”
“I know not whether it is his pleasure, or that of an-
other, which this paper contains, but such as it is, Signor
Jacopo, my duty commands me to deliver it to thee."
The packet was received calmly, though the organ which
glanced at its seal and its superscription, gleamed with an
expression which the credulous gondolier fancied to re-
semble that of the tiger at the sight of blood.
Thou saidst something of a ring. Dost thou bear thy
master's signet? I am much accustomed to see pledges,
ere I give faith.”
“Blessed San Teodoro grant that I did ! Were it as
heavy as a skin of wine, I would willingly bear the load;
but one that I mistook for you, Master Jacopo, has it on
his own light finger, I ſear.”
“This is an affair that thou wilt settle with thy master,"
returned the Bravo, coldly, again examining the impression
of the seal.
“If you are acquainted with the writing of my master,”
hurriedly remarked Gino, who trembled for the fate of the
packet, “you will see his skill in the turn of those letters.
There are few nobles in Venice, or indeed in the Sicilies,
who have a more scholarly hand, with a quill, than Don
Camillo Monforte; I could not do the thing half so well
myself.”
“I am no clerk,” observed the Bravo, without betraying
shame at the confession. “The art of decyphering a scroll,
like this, was never ught me.
If thou art so expert


46
THE BRAVO.
97
in the skill of a penman, tell me the name the packet
bears.”
'Twould little become me to breathe a syllable con-
cerning any of my master's secrets," returned the gondo-
lier, drawing himself up in sudden reserve. “It is enough
that he bid me deliver the letter; after which I should
think it presumption even to whisper more.'
The dark
eye of the Bravo was seen rolling over the per-
son of his companion, by the light of the moon, in a man-
ner that caused the blood of the latter to steal towards his
heart.
“I bid thee read to me aloud the name the paper bears, "
said Jacopo, sternly. “Here is none but the lion and the
saint above our heads to listen."
Just San Marco! who can tell what ear is
open, or
what ear is shut, in Venice! If you please, Signor Fron-
toni, we will postpone the examination to a more suitable
occasion.'
“ Friend, I do not play the fool. The name ! or show
me some gage that thou art sent by him thou hast named,
else take back the packet; 'tis no aflair for my hand.”
- Reflect a single moment on the consequences, Signor
Jacopo, before you come to a determination so hasty.'
“ I know no consequence which can befal a man who
refuses to receive a message like this."
“ Per Diana! Signore; the Duca will not be likely to
leave me an ear to hear the good advice of Father Battista.”
"Then will the Duca save the public executioner some
trouble.”
As he spoke, the Bravo cast the packet at the feet of the
gondolier, and began to walk calmly up the Piazzetta.
Gino seized the letter, and, with his brain in a whirl, with
The effort to recal some one of his master's acquaintances
to whom he would be likely to address an epistle on such
an occasion, he followed.


THE BRAVO.
47
“I wonder, Signor Jacopo, that a man of your sagacity
has not remembered that a packet to be delivered to him-
self, should bear his own name."
The Bravo took the paper and held the superscription
again to the light.
“That is not so. Though unlearned, necessity has
taught me to know when I am meant."
“Diamine! That is just my own case, Signore. Were
the letter for me, now, the old should not know its young,
quicker than I would come at the truth."
"Then thou canst not read?”
“I never pretended to the art. The little I said was
merely about writing. Learning, as you well understand,
Master Jacopo, is divided into reading, writing, and figures;
and a man may well understand one, without knowing a
word of the others. It is not absolutely necessary to be a
bishop to have a shaved head, or a Jew to wear a beard."
"Thou wouldst have done better to have said this at
I will think of the matter.'
Gino gladly turned away, but he had not left the other
many paces, before he saw a female form gliding behind
the pedestal of one of the granite columns. Moving swiſtly,
in a direction lo uncover this seeming spy, he saw at once'
that Annina had been a witness of his interview with the
97
once; go,
Bravo.


THE BRAVO.
49
beauty without. Our narrative now leads us to one of
these patrician abodes of the first class.
A heavy magnificence pervaded the style of the dwelling.
The vestibule was vast, vaulted, and massive; the stairs,
rich in marbles, heavy and grand; the apartments were
imposing in their gildings and sculpture, while the walls
sustained countless works on which the highest geniuses
of Italy had lavishly diffused their power. Among these
relics of an age more happy in this respect than that of
which we write, the connoisseur would readily have known
the pencils of Titian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoretto-the
three great names in which the subjects of St. Mark so
justly prided themselves. Among these works of the higher
masters were mingled others by the pencils of Bellino,
and Montegna, and Palma Vecchio-artists who were se-
condary only to the more renowned colourists of the Ve-
netian school. Vast sheets of mirrors lined the walls,
wherever the still more precious paintings had no place;
while the ordinary hangings of velvet and silk became ob-
jects of secondary admiration in a scene of nearly royal
• magnificence. The cool and beautiful floors, made of a
composition in which all the prized marbles of Italy and
of the East, polished to the last degree of art, were cu-
riously embedded, formed a suitable finish to a style so
gorgeous, and in which luxury and taste were blended in
equal profusion.
The building, which, on two of its sides, literally rose
from out the water, was, as usual, erected around a dark
court. Following its different faces, the eye might pene-
trate, by many a door, open at that hour for the passage
of the air from off the sea, through long suites of rooms,
furnished and fitted in the manner described, all lighted
by shaded lamps that spread a soft and gentle glow around.
Passing, without notice, ranges of reception and sleeping
rooms—the latter of a magnificence to mock the ordinary
4


50
THE BRAVO.
wants of tho body-we shall at once introduce the reader
into the part of the palace where the business of the tale
conducts us.
At the angle of the dwelling, on the side of the smaller
of the two canals, and most remote from the principal wa-
ler-avenue of the city on which the edifice fronted, there
was a suite of apartments, which, while it exhibited the
same style of luxury and magnificence as those first men-
tioned in its general character, discovered greater attention
in its details to the wants of ordinary life. The hangings
were of the richest velvets or of glossy silks, the mirrors
were large and of exquisite truth, the floors of the same gay
and pleasing colours, and the walls were adorned with
their appropriate works of art. But the whole was softened
down to a picture of domestic comfort. The tapestries
and curtains hung in careless folds, the beds admitted of
sleep, and the pictures were delicate copies by the pencil
of some youthful amateur, whose leisure had been exer-
cised in this gentle and feminine employment.
The fair being herself, whose early instruction had given
birth to so many skilful imitations of the divine expression
of Raphael, or to the vivid tints of Titian, was at that hour
in her privacy, discoursing with her ghostly adviser, and
one of her own sex, who had long discharged the joint
Trusts of instructor and parent. The years of the lady of
the palace were so tender that, in a more northern region,
she would scarcely have been deemed past the period of
childhood, though, in her native land, the justness and
maturity of her form, and the expression of a dark, elo-
quent eye, indicated both the growth and the intelligence
of womanhood.
“For this good counsel, I thank you, my father; and
my excellent Donna Florinda will thank you still more, for
your opinions are so like her own, that I sometimes admire
at the secret means, by which experience enables the wise


THE BRAVO.
51
and the good to think so much alike, on a matter of so
little personal interest.'
A slight but furtive smile struggled around the mortified
mouth of the Carmelite, as he listened to the naïve obser-
vation of his ingenuous pupil.
“Thou wilt learn, my child,” he answered, “as time
heaps wisdom on thy head, that it is in concerns which
touch our passions and interests least, we are most apt to
decide with discretion and impartiality. Though Donna
Florinda is not yet past the age when the heart is finally
subdued, and there is still so much to bind her to the world,
she will assure thee of this truth, or I greatly mistake the
excellence of that mind, which hath, hitherto, led her so
far blameless, in this erring pilgrimage to which we are all
doomed."
Though the cowl was over the head of the speaker, who
was evidently preparing to depart, and his deeply-seated
eye never varied from its friendly look at the fair face of her
he instructed, the blood stole into the pale cheeks of the
maternal companion, and her whole countenance betrayed
some such reflection of feeling at his praise, as a wintry
sky exhibits at a sudden gleam from the setting sun.
“I trust that Violetta does not now hear this for the
first time,” observed Donna Florinda, in a voice so meek
and tremulous as to be observed.
Little that can be profitably told one of my inexpe-
rience has been left untaught," quickly answered the pupil,
unconscious herself that she reached her hand towards that
of her constant monitor, though too intent on her object,
to change her look from the features of the Carmelite.
· But why this desire in the Senate, to dispose of a girl
who would be satisfied to live for ever, as she is now,
happy in her youth, and contented with the privacy which
becomes her sex?”
“The relentless years will not stay their advance, that
4*


52
THE BRAVO.
14
even one innocent as thou, may never know the unhappiness
and trials of a more mature age. This life is one of im-
perious, and, oftentimes, of tyrannical duties. Thou art
not ignorant of the policy that rules a state, which bath
made its name so illustrious by high deeds in arms, its
riches, and its widely-spread influence. There is a law
in Venice, which commandeth that none claiming an inte-
rest in its affairs shall so bind himself to the stranger, as to
endanger the devotion all owe to the republic. Thus may
not the patrician of St. Mark be a lord in other lands, nor
may the heiress of a name, great and valued as thine, be
given in marriage, to any of note, in a foreign state, with-
out counsel and consent from those who are appointed to
watch over the interest of all."
Had Providence cast my lot in a humbler class, this
would not have been. Methinks it ill comports with the
happiness of woman, to be the especial care of the Council
of Ten !”.
• There is indiscretion, and, I lament to say, impiety in
thy words. Our duty bids us submit to earthly laws, and
more than duty, reverence teaches us not to repine at the
will of Providence. But I do not see the weight of this
grievance, against which thou murmurest, daughter. Thou
art youthful, wealthy beyond the indulgence of all health-
ful desires, of a lineage to excite an unwholesome worldly
pride, and fair enough to render thee the most dangerous
of thine own enemies--and thou repinest at a lot, to which
alỊ of thy sex and station are, of necessity, subject !”
For the offence against Providence I am already pe-
nitent," returned the Donna Violetta. “But surely it would
be less embarrassing to a girl of sixteen, were the fathers
of the state so much occupied with more weighty affairs,
as to forget her birth and years, and haply her wealth ?”
“There would be little merit in being content with a
world fashioned after our own caprices, though it' may be
5


THE BRAVO.
53
questioned if we should be happier, by having all things as
we desire, than by being compelled to submit to them as
they are. The interest taken by the republic in thy parti-
cular welfare, daughter, is the price thou payest for the
ease and magnificence with which thou art encircled. One
more obscure, and less endowed by fortune, might have
greater freedom of will, but it would be accompanied by
none of the pomp which adorns the dwelling of thy fathers.'
I would there were less of luxury and more of liberty
within its walls.”
- Time will enable thee to see differently. At thy age
all is viewed in colours of gold, or life is rendered boot-
less, because we are thwarted in oar ill-digested wishes. I
deny not, however, that thy fortune is lemperedby some
peculiar passages.
Venice is ruled by a policy that
is often calculating, and haply some deem it remorse-
less.” Though the voice of the Carmelite had fallen, he
paused and glanced an uneasy look from beneath his cowl,
ere he continued. - The caution of the senate teaches it
to preclude, as far as in it lies, the union of interests, that
may not only oppose each other, but which may endanger
those of the state. Thus, as I have said, none of senatorial
rank may hold lands without the limits of the republic, nor
may one of account connect themselves, by the ties of mar-
riage, with strangers of dangerous influence, without the
consent and supervision of the republic. The latter is thy
situation, for of the several foreign lords who seek thy hand,
the council see none to whom the favour may be extended,
without the apprehension of creating an influence here, in
the centre of the canals, which ought not to be given to a
stranger. Don Camillo Monforte, the cavalier to whom
thou art indebted for thy life, and of whom thou hast so
lately spoken with gratitude, has far more cause to com-
plain of these hard decrees, than thou mayest have, in any
reason.'


54
THE BRAVO.
'Twould make my griefs still heavier, did I know that
one, who has shown so much courage in my behalf, has
equal reason to feel their justice," relurned Violetta,
quickly. “What is the affair that, so fortunately for me,
hath brought the Lord of Sant' Agata to Venice, if a grate-
ful girl may, without indiscretion, inquire ?"
“Thy interest in his behalf is both natural and com-
mendable," answered the Carmelite, with a simplicity
which did more credit to his cowl than to his observation.
“He is young, and, doubtless, he is tempted by the gifts
of fortune, and the passions of his years, to divers acts of
weakness. Remember bim, daughter, in thy prayers, that
part of the debt of gratitude may be repaid. His worldly
interest here is one of general notoriety, and I can ascribe
thy ignorance of it only to a retired manner of life.”
“My charge hath other matters to occupy her thoughts
than the concerns of a young stranger, who cometh to
Venice for affairs," mildly observed Donna Florinda.
“But if I am to remember him in my prayers, father,
it might enlighten my petition to know in what the young
noble is most wanting.
“I would have thee remember his spiritual necessities
only. He wanteth, of a truth, little in temporalities that
the world can offer, though the desires of life often lead
him who hath most in quest of more.
It would seem that
an ancestor of Don Camillo was anciently a senator of Ve-
nice, when the death of a relative brought many Calabrian
signories into his possession. The younger of his sons, by
an especial decree, which favoured a family that had well
served the state, took these estates, while the elder trans-
mitted the senatorial rank and the Venetian fortunes to his
posterity. Time hath extinguished the elder branch; and
Don Camillo hath for years besieged the council, to be re-
stored to those rights which his predecessor renounced.”
“Can they refuse bim?"


THE BRAVO.
55
97
1
“His demand involves a departure from established
laws. Were he to renounce the Calabrian lordships, the
Neapolitan might lose more than he would gain; and to
keep both is to infringe a law that is rarely suffered to lic
dormant. I know little, daughter, of the interests of life;
but there are enemies of the republic who say that its ser-
vitude is not easy, and that it seldom bestows favours of
this sort, without seeking an ample equivalent.'
“Is this as it should be? If Don Camillo Monforte has
claims in Venice, whether it be to palaces on the canals, or
to lands on the main; to honours in the state, or voice in
the senale; justice should be rendered without delay, lest
it be said the republic vaunts more of the sacred quality
than it practises.
“Thou speakest as a guileless nature prompts. It is the
frailty of man, my daughter, to separate his public acts
from the fearful responsibility of his private deeds; as if
God, in endowing his being with reason and the glorious
hopes of Christianity, had also endowed him with two souls,
of which only one was to be cared for.'
“Are there not those, Father, who believe that, while
the evil we commit as individuals is visited on our own
· persons, that which is done by states, falls on the nation?”
“The pride of human reason has invented divers sub-
tleties to satisfy its own longings, but it can never feed itself
on a delusion more fatal than this! The crime which
involves others in its guilt, or consequences, is doubly
crime, and though it be a property of sin to entail its own
punishment, even in our present life, he trusts to a vain
hope who thinks the magnitude of the offence will ever be
its apology. The chief security of our nature is to remove
it beyond temptation, and he is safest from the allurements
of the world, who is farthest removed from its vices.
Though I would wish justice done to the noble Neapolitan,


56
THE BRAVO.
hat
27
di
•B
We can
it may be for his everlasting peace, that the additional
wealth he seeks should be withheld.”
“I am unwilling to believe, Father, that a cava lier who
has shown himself so ready to assist the distressed, will
easily abuse the gifts of fortune.
The Carmelite fastened an uneasy look on the bright
features of the young Venetian. Parental solicitude and
prophetic foresight were in his glance, but the expression
was relieved by the charity of a chastened spirit.
“Gratitude to the preserver of thy life becomes thy sta-
tion and sex; it is a duty. Cherish the feeling, for it is
akin to the holy obligation of man to his Creator."
“ Is it enough to feel grateful ?” demanded Violetta.
“One of my name and alliances might do more.
move the patricians of my family, in behalf of the stranger,
that this protracted suit may come to a more speedy end."
“Daughter, beware! the intercession of one in whom
St. Mark feels so lively an interest, may raise up enemies
to Don Camillo, instead of friends."
Donna Violetta was silent, while the monk and Donna
Florinda both regarded her with affectionate concern.
The former then adjusted his cowl and prepared to depart.
The noble maiden approached the Carmelite, and looking
into his face with ingenuous confidence, and habitual re-
verence, she besought his blessing. When the solemn and
customary office was performed, the monk turned towards
the companion of his spiritual charge. Donna Florinda
permitted the silk, on which her needle had been busy, lo
fall into her lap, and she sat in meek silence, while the Car-
melite raised his open palms towards her bended head.
His lips moved, but the words of benediction were inau-
dible. Had the ardent being, entrusted to their joint care,
been less occupied with her own feelings, or more practised
in the interests of that world, into which she was about to
enter, it is probable she would have detected some evidence
>>
.
OF


THE BRAVO.
57
92
of that deep, but smothered sympathy, which so often be-
trayed itself, in the silent intelligence of her ghostly father
and her female mentor.
Thoạ wilt not forget us, father ?” said Violetta, with
winning earnestness. “An orphan girl, in whose fate the
sages of the republic so seriously busy themselves, has need
of
every
friend in whom she can confide.”
“ Blessed be thy intercessor,” said the monk, “and the
peace of the innocent be with thee."
Once more he waved his hand, and, turning, he slowly
quitted the room. The eye of Donna Florinda followed the
white robes of the Carmelite while they were visible; and
when it fell again upon the silk, it was for a moment closed,
as if looking at the movements of the rebuked spirit within.
The young mistress of the palace summoned a menial, and
bade him do honour to her confessor, by seeing him to his
gondola. She then moved to the open balcony. A long
pause succeeded: it was such a silence, breathing, thought-
ful, and luxurious with the repose of Italy, as suited the
city and the hour. Suddenly, Violetta receded from the
open window, and withdrew a step, in alarm.
“Is there a boat beneath ?" demanded her companion,
whose glance was unavoidably attracted to the movement.
“The water was never more quiet. But thou hearest
those strains of the hautboys?”
“ Are they so rare on the canals that they drive thee
from the balcony ?”
“ There are cavaliers beneath the windows of the Men-
toni palace : doubtless, they complimert our friend, Olivia.”
"Even that gallantry is common. Thou knowest that
Olivia is shortly to be united to her kinsman, and he takes
the usual means to show his admiration.
“Dost thou not find this public announcement of a pas-
sion painful? Were I to be wooed, I could wish it might
only be to my own ear.”
2


58
THE BRAVO.
" That is an unhappy sentiment for one whose hand is
in the gift of the senate ! I fear that a maiden of thy rank
must be content to hear her beauty extolled and her merits
sung, if not exaggerated, even by hirelings beneath a bal-
cony.
“I would that they were done !” exclaimed Violetta,
stopping her ears. • None know the excellence of our
friend better than I; but this open exposure of thoughts,
that ought to be so private, must wound her.”
“ Thou mayest go again into the balcony; the music
ceases.
“ There are gondoliers singing near the Rialto: these
are sounds I love ! Sweet in themselves, they do no
violence to our sacred feelings. Art thou for the water to-
night, my Florinda ?”
" Whither wouldst thou ?”
“I know not-but the evening is brilliant, and I pine lo
mingle with the splendour and pleasure without.”
“ While thousands on the canals pine to mingle with
the splendour and pleasure within !—Thus is it ever with
life : that which is possessed is little valued, and that which
we have not is without price.”
“I owe my duty to my guardian,” said Violetta : “
will row to his palace.”
Though Donna Florinda had uttered so grave a moral,
she spoke without severity. Casting aside her work, she
prepared to gratify the desire of her charge. It was the
usual hour for the high in rank and the secluded to go
abroad; and neither Venice, with its gay throngs, nor
Italy, with its soft climate, ever offered greater temptation
to seek the open air.
.
The groom of the chambers was called, the gondoliers
were summoned, and the ladies, cloaking and taking
masks, were quickly in the boat.
we
their


THE BRAVO.
59
CHAPTER V.
If yonr master
Would have a qneen his beggar, you must tell him
That majesty, to keep decorum, must,
No less beg than a kingdom.
Antony and Cleopatra
The silent movement of the hearse-like gondola soon
brought the fair Venetian and her female mentor to the
water-gate of the noble who had been entrusted, by the
senate, with the especial guardianship of the person of
the heiress. It was a residence of more than common
gloom, possessing all the solemn but stately magnificence
which then characterized the private dwellings of the
patricians in that city of riches and pride. Its magnitude
and architecture, though rather less imposing than those
which distinguished the palace of the Donna Violetta,
placed it among the private edifices of the first order, and
all its external decorations showed it to be the habitation of
one of high importance. Within, the noiseless steps and
the air of silent distrust among the domestics, added to the
gloomy grandeur of the apartments, rendered the abode
no bad type of the republic itself.
As neither of his present visitors was a stranger beneath
the roof of the Signor Gradenigo-for so the proprietor of
the palace was called—they ascended its massive stairs,
without pausing to consider any of those novelties of con-
struction that would attract the eye of one unaccustomed
lo such a dwelling. The rank and the known consequence
of the Donna Violetta assured her of a ready reception; and


60
THE BRAVO.
while she was ushered to the suite of rooms above, by a
crowd of bowing menials, one had gone, with becoming
speed, to announce her approach to his master. When in
the ante-chamber, however, the ward stopped, declining
to proceed any further, in deference to the convenience
and privacy of her guardian. The delay was short; for no
sooner was the old senator apprised of her presence, than
he hastened from his closet to do her honour, with a zeal
that did credit to his fitness for the trust he filled. The
countenance of the old patrician-a face in which thought
and care had drawn as many lines as time-lighted with
unequivocal satisfaction as he pressed forward to receive
his beautiful ward. To her half-uttered apologies for the
intrusion, he would not listen; but as he led her within, he
gallantly professed his pleasure at being honoured with her
visits even at moments that, to her scrupulous delicacy,
might appear the most ill-timed.
Thou canst never come amiss, child as thou art of my
ancient friend, and the especial care of the state!” he added.
· The gates of the Gradenigo palace would open of them-
selves, at the latest period of the night, to receive such a
guest. Besides, the hour is most suited to the convenience
of one of thy quality who would breathe the fresh evening
air on the canals. Were I to limit thee to hours and mi-
nutes, some truant wish of the moment, some innocent
caprice of thy sex and years, might go ungratified.—Ah!
Donna Florinda, we may well pray that all our affection-
not to call it weakness—for this persuasive girl, shall not in
the end lead to her own disadvantage !"
“For the indulgence of both, I am grateful,” returned
Violetta; “I only fear to urge my little requests at moments
when your precious time is more worthily occupied in
behalf of the state.”
“ Thou overratest my consequence.
I sometimes visit
the Council of Three Hundred; but my years and infirmities


THE BRAVO.
61
ET
..
ba?
preclude me now from serving the republic as I could wish.
Praise be to St. Mark, our patron! its affairs are not un-
prosperous for our declining fortunes. We have dealt
bravely with the infidel of late; the treaty with the Em-
peror is not to our wrong; and the anger of the church,
for the late seeming breach of confidence on our part, has
been diverted. We owe something in the latter affair to a
young Neapolitan, who sojourns here at Venice, and who
is not without interest at the Holy See, by reason of his
uncle, the cardinal secretary. Much good is done by the
influence of friends, properly employed. 'Tis the secret
of our success in the actual condition of Venice; for that
which power cannot achieve, must be trusted to favour and
a wise moderation.”
“Your declarations encourage me to become, once more,
a saitor; for I will confess that, in addition to the desire of
doing you honour, I have come, equally with the wish, to
urge your great influence, in behalf of an earnest suit I
have.”
- What now! Our young charge, Donna Florinda, has
inherited, with the fortunes of her family, its ancient habits
of patronage and protection ! But we will not discourage
the feeling, for it has a worthy origin, and, used with dis-
cretion, it fortifies the noble and powerful in their stations.”
“And may we not say,” mildly observed Donna Florinda,
" that when the affluent and the happy employ themselves
with the cares of the less fortunate, they not only discharge
a duty, but they cultivate a wholesome and useful state of
mind?”
“Doubt it not. Nothing can be more useful than to
give to each class in society a proper sense of its obligations,
and a just sentiment of its duties. These are opinions
greatly approve, and which I desire my ward may tho-
roughly understand.”
She is happy in possessing instructors so able and so
22
2


62
THE BRAVO.
willing to teach all she should know,” rejoined Violetta.
“With this admission, may I ask the Signor Gradenigo to
give ear to my petition ?"
“Thy little requests are ever welcome. I would merely
observe, that generous and ardent temperaments sometimes
regard a distant object so steadily, as to overlook others
that are not only nearer, and perhaps of still more urgent
importance, but more attainable. In doing a benefit to one,
we should be wary not to do injury to many. The relative
of some one of thy household may have thoughtlessly en-
listed for the wars ?”
• Should it be so, I trust the recruit will have the man-
hood not to quit his colours."
“Thy nurse, who is one little likely to forget the service
she did thy infancy, urges the claim of some kinsman, to
an employment in the customs ?”
“I believe all of that family are long since placed,” said
Violetta, laughing, “unless we might establish the good
mother herself, in some station of honour.
I have nought
to ask in their behalf.”
“ She who hath reared thee, to this goodly and health-
ful beauty, would prefer a well-supported suit, but still is
she better, as she is, indolent, and, I fear, pampered by
thy liberality. Thy private purse is drained by demands
on thy charity;-or, perhaps, the waywardness of a female
taste hath cost thee dear, of late ?"
“ Neither.-I have little need of gold, for one of my years
cannot properly maintain the magnificence of her condition.
I come, guardian, with a far graver solicitation than any
of these.”
I hope none, in thy favour, have been indiscreet of
speech !” exclaimed the Signor Gradenigo, casting a hasły
and suspicious look at his ward.
“ “If any have been so thoughtless, let them abide the
punishment of their fault."


THE BRAVO.
63
“I commend thy justice. In this age of novel opinions,
innovations of all descriptions cannot be too severely check-
ed. Were the senate to shut its ears to all the wild
theories that are uttered by the unthinking and vain, their
language would soon penetrate to the ill-regulated minds of
the ignorant and idle. Ask me, if thou wilt, for purses in
scores, but do not move me to forgetfulness of the guilt of
the disturber of the public peace!”
“Not a sequin.--- My errand is of nobler quality.”
“Speak, without riddle, that I may know its object.”
Now that nothing stood between her wish to speak, and
her own manner of making known the request, Donna Vio-
lelta appeared to shrink from expressing it. Her colour
went and came, and she sought support from the eye of
her attentive and wondering companion. As the latter was
ignorant of her intention, however, she could do no more
than encourage the supplicant, by such an expression of
sympathy as woman rarely refuses to her sex, in any trial
that involves their peculiar and distinctive feelings. Vio-
letta struggled with her diffidence, and then laughing at
her own want of self-possession, she continued
“You know, Signor Gradenigo," she said, with a loftiness
that was not less puzzling, though far more intelligible, than
the agitation which, a moment before, had embarrassed her
manner, " that I am the last of a line, eminent, for centuries,
in the state of Venice.”
“So sayeth our history.
“That I bear a name long known, and which it becomes
me to shield from all imputation of discredit, in my own
person.'
“This is so true, that it scarce needed so clear an ex-
posure;" drily returned the senator.
“And that, though thus gifted by the accidents of for-
tune and birth, I have received a boon that remains still
2
92


61
THE BRAVO.
unrequited, in a manner to do no honour to the house of
Thiepolo."
• This becometh serious! Donna Florinda, our ward is
more earnest than intelligible, and I must ask an explanation
at
your
hands. It becometh her not to receive boons of
this nature from any.
Though unprepared for this request,” mildly replied
the companion, “I think she speaks of the boon of life.”
The Signor Gradenigo's countenance assumed a dark ex-
pression.
“ I understand you,” he said, coldly. “It is true that
the Neapolitan was ready to rescue thee, when the calamity
befel thy uncle of Florence, but Don Camillo Monforte is
not a common diver of the Lido to be rewarded like him
who finds a bauble dropped from a gondola. Thou hast
thanked the cavalier; I trust that a noble maiden can do no
more in a case like this.”
“That I have thanked him, and thanked him from my
soul, is true!” fervently exclaimed Violetta. " When I
forget the service, Maria Santissima, and the good saints,
forget me!”
• I doubt, Signora Florinda, that your charge hath spent
more hours among the light works of her late father's library,
and less time with her missad, than becomes her birth ?"
The eye of Violetta kindled, and she folded an arm
around the form of her shrinking companion, who drew
down her veil at this reproof, though she forbore to
answer.
Signor Gradenigo,” said the young beiress, “I may
have done discredit to my instructors, but if the pupil has
been idle, the fault should not be visited on the innocent.
It is some evidence that the commands of holy church
have not been neglected, that I now come to entreat fa-
vour in behalf of one, to whom I owe my life. Don Ca-


THE BRAVO.
65
72
millo Monforte has long pursued, without success, a claim
so just, that were there no other motive to concede it, the
character of Venice should teach the senators the danger
of delay.”
“My ward has spent her leisure with the doctors of
Padua! The republic bath its laws, and none who have
right of their side appeal to them in vain. Thy gratitude
is not to be censured; it is rather worthy of thy origin and
hopes; still, Donna Violetta, we should remember how
difficult it is to winnow the truth from the chaff of impo-
sition and legal subtlety, and, most of all, should a judge
be certain, before he gives his decree, that, in confirming
the claim of one applicant, he does not defeat those of
another.”
“They tamper with his rights! Being born in a foreign
realm, he is required to renounce more in the land of the
stranger, than he will gain within the limits of the re-
public. He wastes life and youth in pursuing a phantom!
You are of weight in the senate, my guardian, and were
you to lend him the support of your powerful voice and
great instruction, a wronged noble would have justice, and
Venice, though she might lose a trifle from her stores,
would better deserve the character of which she is so jea-
lous.”
Thou art a persuasive advocate, and I will think of
what thou urgest,” said the Signor Gradenigo, changing
the frown, which had been gathering about his brow, to
a look of indulgence, with a facility that betrayed much
practice in adapting the expression of his features to his
policy. “I ought only to hearken to the Neapolitan,
in my public character of a judge, but his service to
thee; and my weakness in thy behalf, extorts that thou
wouldst have.”
Donna Violetta received the promise, with a bright and
guileless smile. She kissed the hand he extended, as a


66
THE BRAVO.
pledge of his faith, with a fervour that gave her attentive
guardian serious uneasiness.
“Thou art too winning, even to be resisted by one
wearied with rebutting plausible pretensions,” he added.
“ The young and the generous, Donna Florinda, believe
all to be as their own wishes and simplicity would have
them. As for this right of Don Camillo—but no matter-
thou wilt have it so, and it shall be examined with that
blindness which is said to be the failing of justice.”
“I have understood the metaphor to mean blind to fa-
vour, but not insensible to the right.”
“I fear that is a sense which might defeat our hopes-
but we will look into it. My son has been mindful of his
duty and respect of late, Donna Violetta, as I would have
him? The boy wants little urging, I know, to lead him to
do honour to my ward, and the fairest of Venice. Thou
wilt receive him with friendship, for the love thou bearest
his father?”
Donna Violetta curtsied, but it was with womanly
.
reserve.
“The door of my palace is never shut on the Signor
Giacomo, on all proper occasions,” she said, coldly. “Si-
gnore, the son of my guardian could hardly be other than
an honoured visitor."
“I would have the boy attentive--and even more, I
would have him prove some little of that great esteem,
--but we live in a jealous city, Donna Florinda, and
one in which prudence is a virtue of the highest price.
If the youth is less urgent than I could wish, believe me it
is from the apprehension of giving premature alarm to
those who interest themselves in the fortunes of our
charge.
Both the ladies bowed, and by the manner in which they
drew their cloaks about them, they made evident their
wish to retire. Donna Violetta craved a blessing, and after


THE BRAVO.
67
the usual compliments, and a short dialogue of courtesy,
she and her companion withdrew to their boat.
The Signore Gradenigo paced the room, in which he had
received his ward, for several minutes in silence. Not a
sound of any sort was audible throughout the whole of the
vast abode, the stillness and cautious tread of those within
answering to the quiet town without; but a young man, in
whose countenance and air was to be seen most of the
usual signs of a well-bred profligacy, sauntering along the
suite of chambers, at length caught the eye of the senator,
who beckoned him to approach.
• Thou art unhappy, as of wont, Giacomo," he said, in
a tone between paternal indulgence and reproach. “The
Donna Violetta has, but a minute since, departed, and
thou wert absent. Some unworthy intrigue with the daugh-
ter of a jeweller, or some more injurious bargain of thy
hopes, with the father, hath occupied the time that might
have been devoted more honourably, and to far better
profit.”
“You do me little justice,” returned the youth. “Nei-
ther Jew, nor Jewess, hath this day greeted my eye.'
“The kalendar should mark the time, for its singularity!
I would know, Giacomo, if thou turnest to a right advan-
tage the occasion of my guardianship, and if thou thinkest,
with sufficient gravity, of the importance of what I urge ?”
“Doubt it not, father. He who hath so much suffered
for the want of that which the Donna Violetta possesses in
so great profusion, needeth little prompting on such a
subject. By refusing to supply my wants, you have made
certain of my consent. There is not a fool in Venicé who
sighs more loudly beneath his mistress's ,window, than I
utter my pathetic wishes to the lady-when there is oppor-
tunity, and I am in the humour.”
“Thou knowest the danger of alarming the senate ?"
"Fear me not. My progress is by secret and gradual
5*


68
THE BRAVO.
means.
Neither my countenance nor my mind is unused
to a mask—thanks to necessity! My spirits have been too
buoyant not to have made me acquainted with dupli-
city!”
“Thou speakest, ungrateful boy, as if I denied thy youth
the usual indulgences of thy years and rank.
It is thy ex-
cesses, and not thy spirits I would check. But I would not,
now, harden thee with reproof. Giacomo, thou hast
rival in the stranger. His act in the Giudecca has won upon
the fancy of the girl, and like all of generous and ardent
natures, ignorant as she is of his merits, she supplies his
character with all necessary qualities by her own inge-
nuity.”
I would she did the same by me!”
With thee, sirrah, my ward might be required to forget,
rather than invent. Hast thou bethought thee of turning
the
eyes of the council on the danger which besets their
heiress ?”
“I have."
" And the means ?”
“The plainest and the most certain--the Lion's mouth."
“ Ha !--That, indeed, is a bold adventure."
And, like all bold adventures, it is the more likely to
succeed. For once fortune hath not been a niggard with
me.—I have given them the Neapolitan’s signet by way of
proof.”
“Giacomo! dost thou know the hazard of thy temerity?
I hope there is no clue left in the hand-writing, or by any
other means taken to obtain the ring ?”
“Father, though I may have overlooked thy instruction
in less weighty matters, not an admonition which touches
the policy of Venice hath been forgotten. The Neapolitan
stands accused, and iſ thy council is faithful, he will be a
suspected, if not a banished, man.
“That the Council of Three will perform its trust is


THE BRAVO.
69
리
​beyond dispute. I would I were as certain that thy in-
discreet zeal may not lead to some unpleasant exposure !"
The shameless son stared at the father a moment in doubt,
and then he passed into the more private parts of the palace,
like one too much accustomed to double dealing, to lend it
a second, or a serious thought. The senator remained.
His silent walk was now manifestly disturbed by great un-
easiness; and he frequently passed a hand across his brow,
as if he mused in pain. While thus occupied, a figure
stole through the long suite of ante-chambers, and stopped
near the door of the room he occupied. The intruder was
aged; his face was tawny by exposure, and his hair thinned
and whitened by time. His dress was that of a fisherman,
being both scanty and of the meanest materials. Still
there was a naturally noble and frank intelligence in his
bold eye and prominent features, while the bare arms and
naked legs exhibited a muscle and proportion, which proved
that nature was rather at a stand than in the decline. He
had been many moments dangling his cap, in habitual
but unembarrassed respect, before his presence was ob-
served.
Ha! thou here, Antonio!" exclaimed the senator, when
their eyes met.
“Why this visit ?”
Signore, my heart is heavy."
“Hath the calendar no saint- the fisherman no patron ?
I
suppose the sirocco hath been tossing the waters of the
bay, and thy nets are empty.-Hold! thou art my foster-
brother, and thou must not want."
The fisherman drew back with dignity, refusing the gift
simply, but decidedly, by the act.
Signore, we have lived from childhood to old
age
since
we drew our milk from the same breast; in all that time,
have
you ever known me a beggar?”
“Thou art not wont to ask these boons, Antonio, it is


70
THE BRAVO.
3
true; but age conquers our pride with our strength. If it
be not sequins that thou seekest, what wouldst thou ?"
“ There are other wants than those of the body, Signore,
and other sufferings beside hunger.'
The countenance of the senator lowered. He cast a
sharp glance at his foster-brother, and ere he answered
he closed the door which communicated with the outer
chamber,
Thy words forebode disaffection, as of wont. Thou
art accustomed to comment on measures and interests that
are beyond thy limited reason, and thou knowest that tby
opinions have already drawn displeasure on thee. The
ignorant and the low are, to the state, as children, whose
duty it is to obey, and not to cavil. --Thy errand ?"
I am not the man you think me, Signore. I am used
to poverty and want, and little satisfies my wishes. The
senate is my master, and as such I honour it; but a fisher-
man hath his feelings as well as the doge ?"
Again !—These feelings of thine, Antonio, are most
exacting. Thou namest them on all occasions, as if they
were the engrossing concerns of life.”
Signore, are they not to me? Though I think mostly
of my own concerns, still I can have a thought for the dis-
tress of those I honour. When the beautiful and youthful
lady, your eccellenza's daughter, was called away to the
company of the saints, I felt the blow as if it had been the
death of my own child; and it has pleased God, as you very
well know, Signore, not to leave me unacquainted with the
anguish of such a loss."
“ Thou art a good fellow, Antonio," returned the se-
nator, covertly removing the moisture from his eyes; “an
honest and a proud man, for thy condition!”
“ She from whom we both drew our first nourishment,
Signore, often told me that next to my own kin, it was my


THE BRAVO.
71
duty to love the noble race she had helped to support. I
make no merit of natural feeling, which is a gift from
Heaven, and the greater is the reason that the state should
not deal lightly with such affections.”
“ Once more the state !-Name thy errand.”
“Your eccellenza knows the history of my humble life.
I need not tell you, Signore, of the sons which God, by the
intercession of the Virgin and blessed St. Anthony, was
pleased to bestow on me, or of the manner in which he
hath seen proper to take them, one by one, away.”
“ Thou hast known sorrow, poor Antonio; I well re-
member thou hast suffered, too.”
Signore, I have. The deaths of five manly and honest
sons is a blow to bring a groan from a rock. But I have
known how to bless God, and be thankful !"
Worthy fisherman, the doge himself might envy this
resignation. It is often easier to endure the loss than the
life of a child, Antonio !"
Signore, no boy of mine ever caused me grief, but the
hour in which he died. And even then,” the old man
turned aside, to conceal the working of his features--" I
struggled to remember, from how much pain, and toil,
and suffering they were removed, to enjoy a more blessed
state.”
The lip of the Signore Gradenigo quivered, and he
moved to and fro with a quicker step.
I think Antonio," he said, " I think, honest Antonio,
I had masses said for the souls of them all pºs
Signore, you had; St. Anthony remember the kindness
in
your own extremity! I was wrong in saying that the
youths never gave me sorrow but in dying, for there is a
pain the rich cannot know, in being too poor to buy a
prayer for a dead child !"
“ Wilt thou have more masses ? Son of thine shall
66


72
THE BRAVO.
never want a voice with the saints, for the ease of his
soul !”
" I thank you, eccellenza, but I have faith in what has
been done, and, more than all, in the mercy of God. My
errand now is in behalf of the living.'
The sympathy of the senator was suddenly checked, and
he already listened with a doubting and suspicious air.
Thy errand ?” he simply repeated.
“ Is to beg your interest, Signore, to obtain the release
of my grandson from the galleys. They have seized the
lad in his fourteenth year, and condemned him to the wars
with the Infidels, without thought of his tender years,
without thought of evil example,' without thought of my
age and loneliness, and without justice; for his father died
in the last battle given to the Turk.”
As he ceased, the fisherman riveted his look on the
marble countenance of his auditor, wistfully endeavouring
to trace the effect of his words. But all there was cold,
unanswering, and void of human sympathy. The soulless,
practised, and specious reasoning of the state, had long
since deadened all feeling in the senator, on any subject
that touched an interest so vital as the maritime power of
the republic. He saw the bazard of innovation in the
slightest approach to interests so delicate, and his mind
was drilled by policy into an apathy that no charity could
disturb, when there was question of the right of St. Mark
to the services of his people.
“ I would thou hadst come to beg masses, or gold, or
aught but this, Antonio !” he answered, after a moment of
delay. “ Thou hast had the company of the boy, if I
remember, from his birth, already ?"
Signore, I have had that satisfaction, for he was an
orphan born; and I would wish to have it until the child
is fit to go into the world, armed with an honesty and faith


THE BRAVO.
73
that shall keep him from harm. Were my own brave son
here, he would ask no other fortune for the lad, than such
counsel and aid as a poor man has a right to bestow on his
own flesh and blood.”
“He fareth no worse than others; and thou knowest that
the republic hath need of every arm.
“Eccellenza, I saw the Signor Giacomo land from his
gondola, as I entered the palace."
“Out upon thee, fellow! dost thou make no distinction
between the son of a fisherman, one trained to the oar and
toil, and the heir of an ancient house! Go to, presuming
man, and remember thy condition, and the difference that
God hath made between our children."
“Mine never gave me sorrow but the hour in which they
died,” said the fisherman, uttering a severe but mild re-
proof.
The Signor Gradenigo felt the sting of this retort, which
in no degree aided the cause of his indiscreet foster-brother.
After pacing the room in agitation for some time, he so far
conquered his resentment as to answer more mildly, as
became his rank.
“Antonio,” he said, “thy disposition and boldness are
no strangers to me-If thou wouldst have masses for the
dead, or gold for the living, they are thine ; but in asking
for my interest with the general of the galleys, thou askest
that which, at a moment so critical, could not be yielded
to the son of the doge, were the doge-"
“A fisherman,” continued Antonio, observing that he
hesitated—“Signore, adieu; I would not part
in
anger
with
my foster-brother, and I pray the saints to bless you and
your house. May you never know the grief of losing a
child by a fate far worse than death-that of destruction
by vice."
As Antonio ceased, he made his reverence and departed


74
THE BRAVO.
by the way he had entered. He retired unnoticed, for
the senator averted his eyes, with a secret consciousness of
the force of what the other, in his simplicity, bad uttered;
and it was some time before the latter knew he was alone.
Another step, however, soon diverted his attention. The
door re-opened, and a menial appeared. He announced
that one without sought a private audience.
“Let him enter,” answered the ready senator,
smooth-
ing his features to their customary cautious and distrustful
expression.
The servant withdrew, when one masked and wearing a
cloak, quickly entered the room.
When tbe latter instru-
ment of disguise was thrown upon an arm, and the visor
was removed, the form and face of the dreaded Jacopo be-
came visible.


THE BRAVO.
75
CHAPTER VI.
Cæsar himself has work, and our oppression
Exceeds what we expected.
SHAKSPEARE.
>>
“Didst thou note him that left me ?” eagerly demanded
the Signor Gradenigo.
“I did.”
“Enough so to recognise form and countenance ?"
“ 'Twas a fisherman of the Lagunes, named Antonio."
The senator dropped the extended limb, and regarded
the Bravo, with a look, in which surprise and admiration
were equally blended. He resumed his course up and
down the room, while his companion stood waiting his
pleasure, in an attitude so calm as to be dignified. A few
minutes were wasted in this abstraction.
Thou art quick of sight, Jacopo !" continued the patri-
cian, breaking the pause—Hast thou had dealings with
the man?"
Never.”
“Thou art certain it is"
"Your eccellenza's foster-brother."
“I did not inquire into thy knowledge of his infancy and
origin, but of his present state," returned the Signore Gra-
denigo, turning away to conceal his countenance from the
glowing eye of Jacopo-“ Has he been named to thee by
any in authority ?”
“He has not--my mission does not lie with fishermen.”
"Duty may lead us into still humbler society, young
man. They who are charged with the grievous burthen
66


76
THE BRAVO.
of the state, must not consider the quality of the load they
carry. In what manner hath this Antonio come to thy
knowledge ?"
“I have known him as one esteemed by his fellows-
a man skilful in his craft, and long practised in the mystery
of the Lagunes.
“He is a defrauder of the revenue, thou wouldst be
understood to say?”
“I would not. He toils too late and early to have other
means of support than labour."
** Thou knowest, Jacopo, the severity of our laws in mat-
ters that concern the public moneys ?
“I know that the judgment of St. Mark, Signore, is
never light when his own interest is touched.”
“Thou art not required to 'utter opinions beyond the
present question. This man hath a habit of courting the
good-will of his associates, and of making his voice heard
concerning affairs of which none but his superiors may
discreetly judge."
“Signore, he is old, and the tongue grows loose with
years."
- This is not the character of Antonio. Nature hath not
treated him unkindly; had his birth and education been
equal to his mind, the senate might have been glad to lis-
ten—as it is, I fear he speaks in a sense to endanger bis
own interests.
“Surely, if he speak to offend the ear of St. Mark.".
There was a quick suspicious glance from the senator to
the Bravo, as if to read the true meaning of the latter's
words. Finding, however, the same expression of self-
possession in the quiet features he scrutinized, the latter
continued as if distrust had not been awakened.
“If, as thou sayest, he so speaks as to injure the republic,
his years have not brought discretion. I love the man,
Jacopo, for it is usual to regard, with some partiality, those


THE BRAVO.
77
who have drawn nourishment from the same breast with
ourselves.
Signore, it is."
And feeling this weakness in his favour, I would have
him admonished to be prudent. Thou art acquainted,
doubtless, with his opinions concerning the recent necessity
of the state, to command the services of all the youths on
the Lagunes in her fleets ?”
“I know that the press has taken from him the boy
who toiled in his company.
“To toil honourably, and perhaps gainfully, in behalf
of the republic !”
“Signore, perhaps !"
“Thou art brief in thy speech to-night, Jacopo 1-But
if thou knowest the fisherman, give him counsel of discre-
tion. St. Mark will not tolerate such free opinions of his
wisdom. This is the third occasion in which there has
been need to repress that fisherman's speech : for the pa-
ternal care of the senate cannot see discontent planted in
the bosoms of a class, it is their duty and pleasure to
render happy. Seek opportunities to let him hear this
wholesome truth, for in good sooth, I would not willingly
see a misfortune light upon the head of a son of my ancient
nurse, and that, too, in the decline of his days.
The Bravo bent his body in acquiescence, while the Signor
Gradenigo paced the room, in a manner to show that he
really felt concern.
“ Thou hast had advice of the judgment, in the matter
of the Genoese?” resumed the latter, when another
pause
had given time to change the current of his thoughts. “The
sentence of the tribunals has been prompt, and, though
there is much assumption of a dislike between the two re-
publics, the world can now see how sternly justice is con-
sulted on our isles. I hear the Genoese will have ample


78
THE BRAVO.
amends, and that certain of our own citizens will be mulcted
of much money.
“I have heard the same since the sun set, in the Piaz-
zetta, Signore !"
* And do men converse of our impartiality, and more
than all of our promptitude? Bethink thee, Jacopo, 'tis
but a se'nnight since the claim was preferred to the senate's
GE
equity!"
None dispute the promptitude with which the republic
visits offences.”
“Nor the justice, I trust also, good Jacopo. There is a
beauty and a harmony in the manner in which the social
machine rolls on its course, under such a system, that
should secure men's applause! Justice administers to the
wants of society, and checks the passions with a force as
silent and dignified, as if her decrees came from a higher
volition. I often compare the quiet march of the state, con-
trasted with the troubled movements of some other of our
Italian sisters, to the difference between the clatter of a
clamorous town, and the stillness of our own noiseless
canals. Then the uprightness of the late decree is in the
mouths of the masquers to-night ?"
Signore, the Venetians are bold when there is an op-
portunity to praise their masters.
“ Dost thou think thus, Jacopo ? To me they have ever
seemed more prone to vent their seditious discontent. But
'tis the nature of man to be niggardly of praise and lavish
of censure. This decree of the tribunal must not be suf-
fered to die, with the mere justice of the case. Our friends
should dwell on it, openly, in the cafés, and at the Lido.
They will have no cause to fear, should they give their
tongues a little latitude. A just government hath no jea-
lousy of comment.”
" True, Signore."
th


THE BRAVO.
79
“I look to thee and thy fellows to see that the affair be
not too quickly forgotten. The contemplation of acts, such
as this, will quicken the dormant seeds of virtue in the
public mind. He who has examples of equity incessantly
before his eyes, will come at last to love the quality. The
Genoese, I trust, will depart satisfied ?”
“Doubt it not, Signore; he has all that can content a
sufferer; his own with usury, and revenge of him who did
the wrong.
“Such is the decree-ample restoration and the chast-
ening hand of punishment. Few states would thus render
a judgment against itself, Jacopo ?”
“Is the state answerable for the deed of the merchant,
Signore ?”
“Through its citizen. He who inflicts punishment on
his own members, is a sufferer, surely. No one can part
with his own flesh without pain; is not this true, fellow ?”
“There are nerves that are delicate to the touch, Signore,
and an eye or a tooth is precious ; but the paring of a nail,
or the fall of the beard, is little heeded.”
•One who did not know thee, Jacopo, would imagine
thee in the interest of the emperor! The sparrow does not
fall in Venice, without the loss touching the parental feelings
of the senate. Well, is there further rumour among the
Jews, of a decrease of gold? Sequins are not so abundant
as of wont, and the chicanery of that race lends itself to
the scarcity, in the hope of larger profits.'
“I have seen faces on the Rialto, of late, Signore, that look
empty purses. The Christian seems anxious, and in want,
while the unbelievers wear their gaberdines with a looser
air than is usual."
“This hath been expected. Doth report openly name
any of the Israelites who are in the custom of lending, on
usury, to the young nobles ?"
“ All, who have to lend, may be accounted of the class;
22


80
THE BRAVO.
the whole synagogue, rabbis, and all, are of a mind, when
there is question of a Christian's purse.
“Thou likest not the Hebrew, Jacopo; but he is of good
service in the republic's straits. We count all friends, who
are ready with their gold at need. Still the young hopes
of Venice must not be left to waste their substance in un-
wary bargains with the gainful race, and shouldst thou
hear of any of mark, who are thought to be too deeply in
their clutches, thou wilt do wisely to let the same be
known, with little delay, to the guardians of the public
weal. We must deal tenderly with those who prop the
state, but we must also deal discreetly with those who will
shortly compose it. Hast thou aught to say in the matter ?"
“ I have heard men speak of Signor Giacomo as paying
dearest for their favours.'
Gesu Maria ! my son and heir ! Dost thou not deceive
me, man, to gratify thine own displeasures against the
Hebrews ?"
“I have no other malice against the race, Signore, than
the wholesome disre lish of a Christian. Thus much I hope
may be permitted to a believer, but beyond that, in reason,
I
carry
hatred to no man.
It is well known that your
heir is disposing freely of his hopes, and at prices that lower
expectations might command."
“ This is a weighty concern! The boy must be speedily
admonished of the consequences, and care must be had for
his future discretion. The Hebrew shall be punished, and
as a solemn warning to the whole tribe, the debt confis-
cated to the benefit of the borrower. With such an example
before their eyes, the knaves will be less ready with their
sequins. Holy St. Theodore ! 'twere self-destruction to
suffer one of such promise to be lost for the want of pru-
dent forethought. I will charge myself with the matter,
as an especial duty, and the senate shall have no cause to
say that its interests have been neglected. Hast thou had


THE BRAVO.
81
applications of late, in thy character of avenger of private
Wrongs ?”
“ None of note--there is one that seeks me earnestly,
though I am not yet wholly the master of his wishes.”
“Thy office is of much delicacy and trust, and, as thou
art well assured, the reward is weighty and sure.” The
eyes of the Bravo kindled with an expression which caused
his companion to pause. But observing that the repose,
for which the features of Jacopo were so remarkable, again
presided over his pallid face, he continued, as if there had
been no interruption; “I repeat, the bounty and clemency
of the state will not be forgotten. If its justice is stern and
infallible, its forgiveness is cordial, and its favours ample.
Of these facts I have taken much pains to assure thee,
Jacopo.—Blessed St. Mark! that one of the scions of thy
great stock should waste his substance for the benefit of a
race of unbelievers ! But thou hast not named him who
seeks thee, with this earnestness ?”
“As I have yet to learn his errand, before I go further,
Signore, it may be well to know more of his wishes.”
This reserve is uncalled for. Thou art not to distrust
the prudence of the republic's ministers, and I should be
sorry were the Inquisitors to get an unfavourable opinion
of thy zeal. The individual must be denounced.”
“I denounce him not. The most that I can say is, that
he hath a desire to deal privately with one, with whom it
is almost criminal to deal at all."
** The prevention of crime is better than its punishment,
and such is the true object of all government. Thou wilt
not withhold the name of thy correspondent?”
“It is a noble Neapolitan, who hath long sojourned in
Venice, on matters touching a great succession, and some
right, even, to the senate’s dignity."
“Ha! Don Camillo Monforte! Am I right, sirrah?”
“Signore, the same !"
57
6


S2
THE BRAVO.
The
pause
which followed was only broken by the clock
of the great square striking eleven, or the fourth hour of
the night, as it is termed, by the usage of Italy. The se-
nator started, consulted a time-piece in his own apartment,
and again addressed his companion.
- This is well,” he said; “thy faith and punctuality
shall be remembered. Look to the fisherman, Antonio;
the murmurs of the old man must not be permitted to
awaken discontent, for a cause so trifling, as this transfer
of his descendant from a gondola to a galley; and most of
all, keep thy ears attentive to any rumours on the Rialto.
The glory and credit of a patrician name must not be weak-
ened by the errors of boyhood. As to this stranger-quick-
ly, thy mask and cloak—depart as if thou wert merely a
friend, bent on some of the idle pleasantries of the hour.”
The Bravo resumed his disguise with the readiness of one
long practised in its use, but with a composure that was
not so easily disconcerted as that of the more sensitive se-
nator. The latter did not speak again, though he hurried
Jacopo from his presence, by an impatient movement of
the hand.
When the door was closed and the Signor Gradenigo
was again alone, he once more consulted the time-piece,
passed his hand slowly and thoughtfully across his brow,
and resumed his walk. For nearly an hour this exercise,
or nervous sympathy of the body with a mind that was pos-
sibly overworked, continued without any interruption from
without. Then came a gentle tap at the door, and at the
usual bidding, one entered, closely masked, like him who
had departed, as was so much the usage of that city, in the
age of which we write. A glance at the figure of his guest
seemed to apprise the senator of his character, for the re-
ception, while it was distinguished by the quaint courtesy
of the age, was that of one expected.
"I am honoured in the visit of Don Camillo Monforte,"


THE BRAVO.
83
97
said the host, while the individual named laid aside his
cloak and silken visor; “ though the lateness of the hour
had given me reason to apprehend that some casualty had
interfered between me and the pleasure.
" A thousand excuses, noble senator, but the coolness of
the canals, and the gaiety of the square, together with some
apprehension of intruding prematurely on time so precious,
has, I fear, kept me out of season. But I trust to the known
goodness of the Signor Gradenigo for my apology.
“The punctuality of the great lords of Lower Italy is not
their greatest merit,” the Signor Gradenigo drily answered.
“The young esteem life so endless, that they take little
heed of the minutes that escape them; while we, whom age
begins to menace, think chiefly of repairing the omissions
of youth. In this manner, Signor Duca, does man sin and
repent daily, until the opportunities of doing either are im-
perceptibly lost. But we will not be more prodigal of the
moments than there is need-are we to hope for better
views in the Spaniard ?”
“I have neglected little that can move the mind of a rea-
sonable man, and I have, in particular, laid before him
the advantage of conciliating the senate's esteem.”
“Therein have you done wisely, Signore, both as re-
spects his interests and
your
own. The senate is a liberal
paymaster to him who serves it well, and a fearful enemy
to those who do harm to the state. I hope the matter of
the succession draws near a conclusion ?"
“I wish it were possible to say it did. I urge the tribunal
in all proper assiduity, omitting no duty of personal respect,
nor of private solicitation. Padua has not a doctor more
learned than he who presents my right to their wisdom,
and yet the affair lingers like life in the hectic. If I have
not shown myself a worthy son of St. Mark, in this affair
with the Spaniard, it is more from the want of a habit of
managing political interests, than from any want of zeal.”
<
6*


84
THE BRAVO.
“ The scales of justice must be nicely balanced to hang
so long, without determining to one side or the other !
You will have need of further assiduity, Don Camillo, and
of great discretion in disposing the minds of the patricians
in
your
favour. It will be well to make your attachment
to the state be observed, by further service near the am-
bassador. You are known to have his esteem, and counsel
coming from such a quarter will enter deeply into his
mind. It should
also quicken the exertions of so benevolent
and generous a young spirit, to know that in serving his
country, he also aids the cause of humanity.”
Don Camillo did not appear to be strongly impressed
with the justice of the latter remark. He bowed, however,
in courtesy to his companion's opinion.
“It is pleasant, Signore, to be thus persuaded,” he
answered; “my kinsman of Castile is a man to hear reason,
let it come from what quarter it may. Though he meets
my arguments with some allusions to the declining power
of the republic, I do not see less of deep respect for the
influence of a state, that hath long made itself remarkable
by its energy and will.”
“ Venice is no longer what the City of the Isles hath
been, Signor Duca; still is she not powerless. The wings
of our lion are a little clipped, but his leap is still far and
his teeth dangerous. If the new-made prince would have
his ducal coronet sit easily on his brow, he would do well
to secure the esteem of his nearest neighbours.
“ This is obviously true, and little that my influence
can do toward effecting the object shall be wantidy. -
And now, may I entreat of your friendship, advice as to
the manner of further urging my own long-neglected
claims.”
You will do well, Don Camillo, to remind the senators
of your presence, by frequent observance of the courtesies
due to their rank and yours.”


THE BRAVO.
85
29
22
« This do I never neglect, as seemly both in my station
and my object.”
“ The judges should not be forgotten, young man, for
it is wise to remember that justice hath ever an ear for so-
licitation.”
None can be more assiduous in the duty, nor is it
common to see a suppliant so mindful of those whoin he
troubleth, by more substantial proofs of respect.”
“But chiefly should you be particular to earn the se-
nate's esteem. No act of service to the state is overlooked,
by that body, and the smallest good deed finds its way into
the recesses of the two councils.”
« Would I could have communication with those reve-
rend fathers ! I think the justice of my claim would spee-
dily work out its own right."
"That were impossible !" gravely returned the senator.
“ Those august bodies are secret, that their majesty may
not be tarnished by communication with vulgar interests.
They rule like the unseen influence of mind over malter,
and form, as it were, the soul of the state, whose seat, like ,
that of reason, remains a problem exceeding human pene-
tration."
“Ie
express the desire, rather as a wish than with any.
hope of its being granted,” returned the Duke of St. Agata,
resuming his cloak and mask, neither of which had been
entirely laid aside. “Adieu, noble Signore; I shall not
cease to move the Castilian with frequent advice, and, in
return, I commit my affair to the justice of the patricians,
and
your own good friendship.”
Signor Gradenigo bowed his guest through all the rooms
of the long suite but the last, where he committed him to
the care of the groom of his chambers.
“The youth must be stirred to greater industry in this
matter, by clogging the wheels of the law. He that would


86
THE BRAVO.
*
ask favours of St. Mark must first earn them, by showing
zealous dispositions in his behalf."
Such were the reflections of the Signor Gradenigo, as
he slowly returned towards his closet, after a ceremonious
leave-taking with his guest, in the outer apartment. Clos-
ing the door, he commenced pacing the small apartment,
with the step and eye of a man who again mused with
some anxiety. After a minute of profound stillness, a door,
concealed by the hangings of the room, was cautiously
opened, and the face of still another visitor appeared.
“Enter !” said the senator, betraying no surprise at the
apparition; "the hour is past, and I wait for tbee."
The flowing dress, the gray and venerable beard, the
noble outline of features, the quick, greedy, and suspicious
eye, with an expression of countenance that was, perhaps,
equally marked by worldly sagacity, and feelings often
rudely rebuked, proclaimed a Hebrew of the Rialto.
"Enter Hosea, and unburthen thyself,” continued the
senator, like one prepared for some habitual communi-
cation. “Is there aught new that touches the public
wealp”
“ Blessed is the people over whom there is so fatherly a
care ! Can there be good or evil to the citizen of the re-
public, noble Signore, without the bowels of the senate
moving, as the parent yearneth over its young! Happy is
the country in which men of reverend years and whitened
heads watch, until night draws toward the day, and weari-
ness is forgotten in the desire to do good, and to honour
the state!”
“ Thy mind partaketh of the eastern imagery of the
country of thy fathers, good Hosea, and thou art apt to
forget that thou art not yet watching on the steps of the
temple. What of interest hath the day brought forth ?”
“Say rather the night, Signore, for little worthy of your


THE BRAVO.
87
22
car hath happened, save a matter of some trifling import
which hath grown out of the movements of the even-
ing.”
“ Have there been stilettos busy on the bridge ?-ha!
or do the people joy less than common in their levi-
ties?”
“None have died wrongfully, and the square is gay as
the fragrant vineyards of Engedi. Holy Abraham / what a
place is Venice for its pleasures, and how the hearts of old
and
young
revel in their merriment! It is almost sufficient
to fix the font in the synagogue, to witness so joyous a dis-
pensation in behalf of the people of these islands! I had
not hoped for the honour of an interview to-night, Signore,
and I had prayed, before laying my head upon the pillow,
when one charged by the council brought to me a jewel,
with an order to decypher the arms and other symbols of
its owner.
'Tis a ring, with the usual marks which accom-
pany private confidences.”
“Thou hast the signet ?” said the noble, stretching out
an arm.
66
" It is here, and a goodly stone it is; a turquoise of
price.”
•Whence came it-and why is it sent to thee ?”
“It came, Signore, as I gather more through hints and
intimations of the messenger than by his words, from a
place resembling that which the righteous Daniel escaped,
in virlue of his godliness and birth.”
Thou meanest the Lion's Mouth!”
“So say our ancient books, Signore, in reference to the
prophet, and so would the council's agent seem to intimate,
in reference to the ring.”
Here is nought but a crest with the equestrian helmet
-comes it of any in Venice ?”
· The upright Solomon guide the judgment of his ser-
vant in a matter of this delicacy! The jewel is of rare


88
THE BRAVO.
beauty, such as few possess but those who have gold in
store for other purposes. Do but regard the soft lustre in
this light, noble Signore, and remark the pleasing colours
that rise by the change of view!"
“Ay-'tis well—but who claimeth the bearings ?”
* It is wonderful to contemplate how great a value may
lie concealed in so small a compass ! I have known se-
quins of full weight and heavy amount given for baubles
less precious.
“Wilt thou never forget thy stall and the wayfares of
the Rialto ? I bid thee name him who beareth these
sym-
bols as marks of his family and rank.”
* Noble Signore, I obey. The crest is of the family of
Monforte, the last senator of which died some fiſteen years
since.”
“ And his jewels !"
They have passed, with other moveables of which the
state taketh no account, into the keeping of his kinsman
and successor—if it be the senate's pleasure that there shall
be a successor to that ancient name_Don Camillo of St.
Agato. The wealthy Neapolitan who now urges his rights
here in Venice, is the present owner of this precious
stone."
“Give me the ring; this must be looked to-hast thou
say:
“Nothing, Signore-unless to petition, if there is to be
any condemnation and sale of the jewel, that it may first
be offered to an ancient servitor of the republic, who hath
much reason to regret that his age hath been less prospe-
rous than his youth.”
“Thou shalt not be forgotten. I hear it said, Hosea,
that divers of our young nobles frequent thy Hebrew shops
with intent to borrow gold, which, lavished in present
prodigality, is to be bitterly repaid at a later day by self-
denial, and such embarrassments as suit not the heirs of noble
>
more to
TA!


THE BRAVO.
89
names.
en
2017
22
PAN
le
Take heed of this matter-for if the displeasure
of the council should alight on any of thy race, there
would be long and serious accounts to settle! Hast thou
had employment of late with other signets, besides this of
the Neapolitan ?”
“ Unless in the vulgar way of our daily occupation,
none of note, illustrious Signore.”
“Regard this,” continued the Signor Gradenigo, first
searching in a secret drawer, whence he drew a small bit
of
paper,
to which a morsel of wax adhered; "canst thou
form any conjecture, by the impression, concerning him
who used that seal ?”
The jeweller took the paper and held it towards the
light, while his glittering eyes intently examined the con-
ceit.
"This would surpass the wisdom of the son of David !"
he said, after a long and seemingly a fruitless examination;
“ here is nought but some fanciful device of gallantry,
such as the light-hearted cavaliers of the city are fond of
using, when they tempt the weaker sex with fair words and
seductive vanities.”
“It is a heart pierced with the dart of love, and a motto
of 'pensa al cuore trafitto d'amore.'
"Nought else, as my eyes do their duty. I should
think there was but very little meant by these words,
Signore !”
That as may be. Thou hast never sold a jewel with
that conceit?"
“Just Samuel! We dispose of them daily, to chris-
tians of both sexes and all ages. I know no device of
greater frequency, whereby I conceive there is much com-
merce in this light fidelity.”
He who used it did well in concealing his thoughts
beneath so general a dress! There will be a reward of a
hundred sequins to him who traces the owner.
992
B


90
THE BRAVO.
Hosea was about to return the seal as beyond his know-
ledge, when this remark fell casually from the lips of the
Signor Gradenigo. In a moment his eyes were fortified
with a glass of microscopic power, and the paper was again
before the lamp.
“ I disposed of a cornelian of no great price, which
bore this conceit, to the wife of the emperor's ambassador,
but conceiving there was no more in the purchase than
some waywardness of fancy, I took no precautions to note
the stone. A gentleman in the family of the Legate of
Ravenna, also, trafficked with me for an amethyst of the
same design, but with him, neither, did I hold it import-
ant to be particular. Ha! here is a private mark, that in
truth seemeth to be of my own hand I"
“Dost thou find a clue? What is the sign of which
thou speakest ?”
Nought, noble senator, but a slur in a letter, which
would not be apt to catch the eye of an over credulous
maiden."
“ And thou partedst with the seal to——?”
Hosea hesitated, for he foresaw some danger of his re-
ward, by a too hasty communication of the truth.
“ If it be important that the fact be known, Signore,"
he said, “ I will consult my books. In a matter of this gra-
vity, the senate should not be misled.”
Thou sayest well. The affair is grave, and the reward.
a sufficient pledge that we so esteem it.
Something was said, illustrious Signore, of a hundred
sequins; but my mind taketh little heed of such particu-
lars, when the good of Venice is in question.
A hundred is the sum I promised.”
“ I parted with a signet-ring, bearing some such design,
to a female in the service of the nuncio's first gentleman.
But this seal cannot come of that, since a woman of her
station-
9
>>


THE BRAVO.
91
"Art sure ?" eagerly interrupted the Signor Gradenigo.
Hosea looked earnestly at his companion; and reading
in his eye and countenance that the clue was agreeable,
he answered promptly,-
“ As that I live under the law of Moses ! The bauble had
been long on hand without an offer, and I abandoned it to
the uses of my money.'
“The sequins are thine, excellent Jew! This clears the
mystery of every doubt. Go; thou shalt have thy reward;
and if thou hast any particulars in thy secret register, let
me be quickly possessed of them. Go to, good Hosea, and
be punctual as of wont. I tire of these constant exercises
of the spirit!”
The Hebrew, exulting in his success, now took his leave,
with a manner in which habitual cupidity and subdued
policy completely mastered every other feeling. He disap-
peared by the passage through which he had entered.
It seemed, by the manner of the Signor Gradenigo, that
the receptions for that evening had now ended.
fully examined the locks of several secret drawers in his
cabinet, extinguished the lights, closed and secured the
doors, and quilted the place. For some time longer,
however, he paced one of the principal rooms of the outer
suite, until the usual hour having arrived, he sought his
rest, and the palace was closed for the night.
The reader will have gained some insight into the cha-
racter of the individual who was the chief actor in the
foregoing scenes. The Signor Gradenigo was born with all
the sympathies and natural kindliness of other men, but
accident, and an education which had received a strong
bias from institutions of the self-styled republic, had made
him the creature of a conventional polity. To him Venice
seemed a free state, because he partook so largely of the
benefits of her social system; and, though shrewd and prac-
He care-


92
THE BRAVO.
tised in most of the affairs of the world, his faculties, on the
subject of the political ethics of his country, were pos-
sessed of a rare and accommodating dulness. A senator, he
stood in relation to the state as a director of a monied insti-
tution is proverbially placed in respect to his corporation;
an agent of its collective measures, removed from the respon-
sibilities of the man. Hecould reason warmly, if not acutely,
concerning the principles of government, and it would be
difficult, even in this money-getting age, to find a more
zealous convert to the opinion that property was not a sub-
ordinate, but the absorbing interest of civilized life. He
would talk ably of character, and honour, and virtue, and
religion, and the rights of persons; but when called upon
to act in their behalf, there was in his mind a tendency to
blend them all with worldly policy, that proved as unerring
as the gravitation of matter to the earth's centre. As a
Venetian, he was equally opposed to the domination of
one, or of the whole; being, as respects the first, a furious
republican, and, in reference to the last, leaning to that
singular sophism which calls the dominion of the majority
the rule of many tyrants! In short, he was an aristocrat:
and no man had more industriously or more successfully
persuaded himself into the belief of all the dogmas that
were favourable to his caste. He was a powerful advocate
of vested rights, for their possession was advantageous to
himself; he was sensitively alive to innovations on usages
and to vicissitudes in the histories of families, for calcula-
tion had substituted taste for principles; nor was he back-
ward, on occasion, in defending his opinions by analogies
drawn from the decrees of Providence. With a philosophy
that seemed to satisfy himself, he contended that, as God
had established orders throughout his own creation, in a
descending chain from angels to men, it was safe to follow
an example which emanated from a wisdom that was infi-


THE BRAVO.
93
nite. Nothing could be more sound than the basis of his
theory, though its application had the capital error of be-
lieving there was any imitation of nature in an endeavour
to supplant it.
CHAPTER VII.
The moon went down; and nothing now was seen
Save where the lamp of a Madonna shone
Faintly.
ROGERS,
There re-
Just as the secret audiences of the Palazzo Gradenigo
were ended, the great square of St. Mark began to lose a
portion of its gaiety. The cafés were now occupied by par-
ties who had the means, and were in the humour, to put
their indulgences to more substantial proof than the pass-
ing jibe or idle laugh; while those who were reluctantly
compelled to turn their thoughts from the levities of the
moment to the cares of the morrow, were departing in
crowds to humble roofs and hard pillows.
mained one of the latter class, however, who continued to
occupy a spot near the junction of the two squares, as mo-
tionless as if his naked feet grew to the stone on which he
stood. It was Anlonio.
The position of the fisherman brought the whole of his
muscular form and bronzed features beneath the rays of
The dark, anxious, and stern eyes were fixed
upon the mild orb, as if their owner sought to penetrate
into another world, in quest of that peace which he had
the moon.


.94
THE BRAVO.
never known in this. There was suffering in the expression
of the weather-worn face; but it was the suffering of one
whose native sensibilities had been a little deadened by too
much familiarity with the lot of the feeble. To one, who
considered life and humanity in any other than their fa-
miliar and vulgar aspects, he would have presented a touch-
ing picture of a noble nature, enduring with pride, blunted
by habit; while to him who regards the accidental dis-
positions of society as paramount laws, he might have pre-
sented the image of dogged turbulence and discontent,
healthfully repressed by the hand of power. A heavy sigh
struggled from the chest of the old man, and, stroking down
the few hairs which time had left him, he liſted his cap
from the pavement, and prepared to move.
“ Thou art late from thy bed, Antonio," said a voice at
• his elbow. “ The triglie must be of good price, or of great
plenty, that one of thy trade can spare time to air himself
in the Piazza at this hour. Thou hearest, the clock is tell-
ing the fifth hour of the night.
The fisherman bent his head aside, and regarded the
figure of his masked companion, for a moment, with indif-
ference, betraying neither curiosity nor feeling at his ad-
dress.
“Since thou knowest me,” he answered, “it is probable
thou knowest that, in quitting this place, I shall go to an
empty dwelling. Since thou knowest me so well, thou
shouldst also know my wrongs."
“Who hath injured thee, worthy fisherman, that thou
speakest so boldly beneath the very windows of the doge?”
The state.
“ This is hardy language for the ear of St. Mark! Were
it too loudly spoken, yonder lion might growl.-Of what
dost thou accuse the republic ?"
“Lead me to them that sent thee, and I will spare thec
S2


THE BRAVO.
95
27
the trouble of a go-between. I am ready to tell my wrongs
to the doge, on his throne; for what can one, poor and old.
as I, dread from their anger ?".
• Thou believest me sent to betray thee ?”
“ Thou knowest thine own errand.”
The other removed his mask, and turned his face to-
ward the moon.
“ Jacopo!” exclaimed the fisherman, gazing at the ex-
pressive Italian features; “one of thy character can have
no errand with me.
A flush, that was visible even in that light, passed
athwart the countenance of the Bravo; but he stilled every
other exhibition of feeling.
“Thou art wrong. My errand is with thee.”
“ Does the senate think a fisherman of the Lagunes of
sufficient importance to be struck by a stiletto ? To thy
work, then!” he added, glancing at his brow and naked
bosom; “there is nothing to prevent thee !"
- Antonio, thou dost me wrong. The senate has no such
purpose. But I have heard that thou hast reason for dis-
content, and that thou speakest openly, on the Lido and
among the islands, of affairs that the patricians like not to
be stirred among men of your class. I come, as a friend,
to warn thee of the consequences of such indiscretion,
rather than as one to harm thee."
“Thou art sent to say this ?"
“Old man, age should teach thy tongue moderation.
What will avail vain complaints against the republic, or
what canst thou hope for, as their fruits, but evil to thyself,
and evil to the child that thou lovest ?”
" I know not but when the heart is sore, the tongue
will speak. They have taken away my boy, and they have
left little behind that I value. The life they threaten is
too short to be cared for."
• Thou shouldst temper thy regrets with wisdom. The


96
THE BRAVO.
Signor Gradenigo has long been friendly to thee, and I
have heard that thy mother nursed him. Try his ears
with prayers, but cease to anger the republic with com-
plaints.
Antonio looked wistfully at his companion, but when he
had ceased, he shook his head, mournfully, as if to express
the hopelessness of relief from that quarter.
“I have told him all that a man, born and nursed on
the Lagunes, can find words to say. He is a senator, Ja-
copo; and he thinks not of suffering which he does not
feel.”
* Art thou not wrong, old man, to accuse him who hath
been born in aflluence, of hardness of heart, merely that
he doth not feel the misery thou wouldst avoid, too, were
it in thy power? Thou hast thy gondola and nets, with
health and the cunning of thy art, and in that art thou
happier than he who hath neither-wouldst thou forget thy
skill, and share thy little stock with the beggar of San
Marco, that your fortunes might be equal ?”
“ There may be truth in what thou sayest of our labour
and our means, but when it comes to our young, nature is
the same in both. I see no reason why the son of the
pa-
trician should go free, and the child of the fisherman be
sold to blood. Have not the senators enough of happiness,
in their riches and greatness, that they rob me of my son ?”
“Thou knowest, Antonio, the state must be served, and
were its officers to go into the palaces in quest of hardy
mariners for the fleet, would they, think you, find them
that would honour the winged lion, in the hour of his need?
Thy old arm is muscular, and thy leg steady on the water,
and they seek those who, like thee, have been trained to
22
the seas.
“Thou shouldst have said, also, “and thy old breast is
scarred.' Before thy birth, Jacopo, I went against the in-
fidel, and my blood was shed, like water, for the state.


THE BRAVO.
97
a
cha
the
But they have forgotten it, while there are rich marbles
raised in the churches, which speak of what the nobles
did, who came unharmed from the same wars."
“I have heard my father say as much," returned the
Bravo, gloomily, and speaking in an altered voice. “He,
too, bled in that war; but that is forgotten.
The fisherman glanced a look around, and perceiving
that several groups were conversing near in the square, he
signed to his companion to follow him, and walked towards
>>
exp
Eor.
the quays.
li
J, IF
EL
eit
hi
IN
1
Thy father,” he said, as they moved slowly on to-
gether, “was my comrade and my friend. I am old, Ja-
copo, and poor; my days are past in toil, on the Lagunes,
and my nights in gaining strength to meet the labour of
the morrow; but it hath grieved me to hear that the son
of one I much loved, and with whom I have so often shared
good and evil, fair and foul, hath taken to a life like that
which men say is thine. The gold that is the price of blood
was never yet blessed to him that gave, or him that re-
ceived."
The Bravo listened in silence, though his companion
who, at another moment, and under other emotions, would
have avoided him as one shrinks from contagion, saw, on
looking mournfully up into his face, that the muscles were
slightly agitated, and that a paleness crossed his cheeks,
which the light of the moon rendered ghastly.
“Thou hast suffered poverty to tempt thee into grie-
vous sin, Jacopo; but it is never too late to call on the
saints for aid, and to lay aside the stiletto! It is not pro-
fitable for a man to be known in Venice as thy fellow, but
the friend of thy father will not abandon one who shows a
penitent spirit. Lay aside thy stiletto, and come with me
to the Lagunes. Thou wilt find labour less burdensome
than guilt, and though thou never canst be to me like the
boy they have taken, for he was innocent as the lamb!
20
7.d
7


98
THE BRAVO.
>
Some say
thou wilt still be the son of an ancient comrade, and a
stricken spirit. Come with me then to the Lagunes, for
poverty and misery like mine cannot meet with more con-
tempt, even for being thy companion.'
• What is it men say, that thou treatest me thus ?" de-
manded Jacopo, in a low, struggling voice.
I would they said untruth! But few die by violence,
in Venice, that thy name is not uttered.”
“And would they suffer one thus marked, to go openly
on the canals, or to be at large in the great square of San
Marco ?”
“We never know the reasons of the senate.
thy time is not yet come, while others think thou art too
powerful for judgment."
“ Thou dost equal credit to the justice and the activity
of the inquisition. But should I go with thee to-night, wilt
thou be more discreet in speech, among thy fellows of the
Lido, and the islands ?"
" When the heart hath its load, the tongue will strive
to lighten it. I would do any thing to turn the child of
my friend from his evil ways, but forget my own. Thou
art used to deal with the patricians, Jacopo : would there
be possibility for one, clad in this dress, and with a face
blackened by the sun, to come to speak with the doge ?"
“ There is no lack of seeming justice in Venice, Anto-
nio; the want is in the substance. I doubt not thou
wouldst be heard.”
Then will I wait, here, upon the stones of the square,
until he comes forth for the
pomp of to-morrow, and try
to move his heart to justice. He is old, like myself, and
he hath bled too, for the state,- and what is more, he is a
father.
“So is the Signor Gradenigo."
“ Thou doubtest his pity-ha?”
“ Thou canst but try. The Doge of Venice will hearken
>


THE BRAVO.
99
22
to a petition from the meanest citizen. I think,” added Ja-
copo, speaking so low as to be scarcely audible," he would
listen even to me.
Though I am not able to put my prayer in such
speech as becometh the ear of a great prince, he shall
hear truth from a wronged man. They call him the cho-
sen of the state, and such a one should gladly listen to
justice. This is a hard bed, Jacopo,” continued the fisher-
man, seating himself at the foot of the column of St. Theo-
dore, “ but I have slept on colder and as hard, when there
was less reason to do it-a happy night.”
The Bravo lingered a minute near the old man, who
folded his arms, on his naked breast, which was fanned by
the sea-breeze, and disposed of his person to take his rest
in the square, a practice not unusual among men of his
class; but when he found that Antonio was inclined to be
alone, he moved on, leaving the fisherman to himself.
The night was now getting to be advanced, and few of
the revellers remained in the areas of the two squares.
Jacopo cast a glance around, and noting the hour and the
situation of the place, he proceeded to the edge of the quay,
The public gondoliers had left their boats moored, as usual,
at this spot, and a profound stillness reigned over the whole
bay. The water was scarce darkened by the air, which
rather breathed upon than ruffled its surface, and no sound
of oar was audible amid the forest of picturesque and clas-
sical spars, which crowded the view between the Piazetta
and the Giudecca. The Bravo hesitated, cast another wary
glance around him, settled his mask, undid the slight fas-
tenings of a boat, and presently he was gliding away into
the centre of the basin.
“Who cometh ?” demanded one, who seemingly stood
at watch, in a felucca, anchored a little apart from all
others.
“One expected," was the answer.


100
THE BRAVO.
66
· Roderigo ?”
5. The same.”
• Thou art late," said the mariner of Calabria, as Jacopo
stepped upon the low deck of the Bella Sorrentina. “My
people have long been below, and I have dreamt thrice of
shipwreck, and twice of a heavy sirocco, since thou hast
been expected.”
“ Thou hast had more time to wrong the customs. Is
the felucca ready for her work ?”
“ As for the customs, there is little chance of gain in this
greedy city. The senators secure all profits to themselves
and their friends, while we of the barks are tied down to
low freights and hard bargains. I have sent a dozen casks
of lachrymæ christi up the canals since the masquers came
abroad, and beyond that I have not occasion. There is
enough left for thy comfort, at need. Wilt drink?"
"I am sworn to sobriety. Is thy vessel ready, as
wont, for the errand?"
“ Is the senate as ready with its money? This is the
fourth of my voyages in their service; and they have only
to look into their own secrets to know the manner in
which the work hath been done."
“They are content, and thou hast been well rewarded.”
“Say it not. I have gained more gold by one lucky
shipment of fruits, from the isles, than by all their night-
work. Would those who employ me give a little especial
traffic on the entrance of the felucca, there might be ad-
vantage in the trade."
“ There is nothing which St. Mark visits with a heavier
punishment than frauds on his receipts. Have a care with
thy wines, or thou wilt lose not only thy bark and thy
voyage, but thy liberty!"
“ This is just the ground of my complaint, Signor Ro-
derigo. Rogue and no rogue, is the republic's motto. Here,
they are as close in justice as a father amid his children;


THE BRAVO.
101
22
By this
and there, it is better that what is done should be done at
midnight. I like not the contradiction, for just as my
hopes are a little raised, by what I have witnessed, perhaps
a little too near, they are all blown to the winds, by
such a frown as San Gennero himself might cast upon a
sinner.”
“Remember thou art not in thy wide Mediterranean,
but on a canal of Venice. This language might be unsafe,
were it beard by less friendly ears.”
“I thank thee for thy care, though the sight of yonder
old palace is as good a hint to the loose tongue, as the
sight of a gibbet, on the sea-shore, to a pirate. I met an
ancient fellow in the Piazetta, about the time the maskers
came in, and we had some words on this matter.
tally, every second man in Venice is well paid for report-
ing what the others say and do. 'Tis a pity, with all their
seeming love of justice, good Roderigo, that the senate
should let divers knaves go at large; men whose very
faces
cause the stones to redden with
anger
and shame!"
“I did not know that any such were openly seen in Ve-
nice; what is secretly done may be favoured for a time,
through difficulty of proof, but—”
Cospetto! They tell me the councils have a short
manner of making a sinner give up his misdeeds. Now,
here is the miscreant Jacopo.-What aileth thee, man?
The anchor, on which thou leanest, is not heated."
“Nor is it of feathers; one's bones may ache from its
touch without offence, I hope.”
“ The iron is of Elba-and was forged in a volcano.
This Jacopo is one that should not go at large in an honest
city, and yet is he seen pacing the square with as much
ease as a noble in the Broglio!"
I know him not.
“Not to know the boldest hand and surest stiletto in
Venice, honest Roderigo, is to thy praise. But he is well
2


102
THE BRAVO.
marked among us of the port, and we never see the man
but we begin to think of our sins, and of penances for-
golten. I marvel much that the Inquisitors do not give
him to the devil, on some public ceremony, for the benefit
of small offenders !”
“Are his deeds so notorious, that they might pronounce
on his fate without proof?”
“Go ask that question in the streets ? Not a Christian
loses his life in Venice without warning, and the number is
not few, to say nothing of those who die with state fevers,
but men see the work of his sure hand in the blow. Signor
Roderigo, your canals are convenient graves for sudden
deaths !”
“Methinks there is contradiction in this. Thou speakest
of proofs of the hand that gave it, in the manner of the
blow, and then thou callest in the aid of the canals to
cover the whole deed. Truly there is some wrong done
this Jacopo, who is, haply, a man slandered.”
“I have heard of slandering a priest, for they are Chris-
tians, bound to keep good names for the church's honour,
but to utter an injury against a bravo, would a little exceed
the tongue of an avvocato. What mattereth it whether the
hand be a shade deeper in colour or not when blood is on
it.”
“Thou sayest truly," answered the pretended Roderigo,
drawing a heavy breath. • It maltereth little, indeed, to
him condemned, whether the sentence cometh of one, or
of many crimes.”
“Dost know, friend Roderigo, that this very argument
hath made me less scrupulous concerning the freight I am
called on to
carry,
in this secret trade of ours? Thou art
fairly in the senate's business, worthy Stefano, I say to
myself, and therefore the less reason that thou shouldst be
particular in the quality of the merchandise. That Jacopo
hath an eye and a scowl that would betray him, were he


THE BRAVO.
103
22
chosen to the chair of St. Peter! But doff thy mask, Si-
gnor Roderigo, that the sea-air may cool thy cheek; 'tis
time there should no longer be this suspicion between old
and tried friends.
“My duty to those who send me forbid the liberty, else
would I gladly stand face to face with thee, Master Ste-
fano.'
“Well, notwithstanding thy caution, cunning Signore,
I would hazard ten of the sequins thou art to pay to me,
that I will go, on the morrow, into the crowd of San
Marco, and challenge thee, openly, by name, among a
thousand. Thou mayest as well unmask, for I tell thee
thou art as well known to me as the lattin yards of my
felucca.”
• The less need to uncover. There are certain signs, no
doubt, by which men who meet often should be known to
each other."
• Thou hast a goodly countenance, Signore, and the less
need to hide it. I have noted thee among the revellers,
when thou hast thought thyself unseen, and I will say
of
thee this much, without wish to gain aught in our bargain,
one of appearance fair as thine, Signor Roderigo, had
betler be seen openly than go thus for ever behind a
cloud."
“ My answer hath been made. What the state wills
cannot be overlooked; but since I see thou knowest me,
take heed not to betray thy knowledge.”
“ Thou wouldst not be more safe with thy confessor.
Diamine ! I am not a man to gad about among the water-
sellers, with a secret at the top of my voice; but thou didst
leer aside when I winked at thee dancing among the
maskers on the quay. Is it not so, Roderigo ?"
“ There is more cleverness in thee, Master Stefano, than
I had thought; though thy readiness with the felucca is no
secret.”


104
THE BRAVO.
31
11
“ There are two things, Signor Roderigo, on which I
value myself, but always, I hope, with Christian modera-
tion. As a mariner of the coast, in mistral or sirocco,
levanter or zephyr, few can claim more practice; and for
knowing an acquaintance in a carnival, I believe the father
of evil himself could not be so disguised that eye of mine
should not see his foot ! For anticipating a gale, or look-
ing behind a mask, Signor Roderigo, I know hot my own
equal among men of small learning.”
These faculties are great gifts in one who liveth by the
sea and a critical trade."
“ Here came one Gino, a gondolier of Don Camillo
Monforte, and an ancient fellow of mine, aboard the felucca,
attended by a woman in mask. He threw off the girl dex-
terously enough, and, as he thought, among strangers; but
I knew her at a glance for the daughter of a wine-seller,
who had already tasted lachrymæ christi of mine. The
woman was angered at the trick, but making the best of
luck, we drove a bargain for the few casks which lay
beneath the ballast, while Gino did his master's business in
San Marco.”
“And what that business was thou didst not learn, good
Stefano ?”
“ How should I, Master Roderigo, when the gondolier
scarce left time for greeting; but Annina--"
Annina !”
“ The same. Thou knowest Annina, old Tommaso's
daughter; for she danced in the very set in which I de-
tected thy countenance ! I would not speak thus of the
girl, but that I know thou art not backward to receive
liquors that do not visit the custom-house, thyself.”
" For that, fear nothing. I have sworn to thee that no
secret of this nature shall pass my lips. But this Annina
is a girl of quick wit and much boldness.”
“ Between ourselves, Signor Roderigo, it is not casy to
Hot boy
1


THE BRAVO.
105
!
>
tell who is in the senate's pay, here in Venice, or who is not.
I have sometimes fancied, by thy manner of starting, and
the tones of thy voice, that thou wert, thyself, no less than
the lieutenant-general of the galleys, a little disguised.
“ And this with thy knowledge of inen!”
“ If faith were always equal, where would be its merit ?
Thou hast never been hotly chased by an infidel, Master
Roderigo, or thou wouldst know how the mind of man can
change from hope to fear, from the big voice to the humble
prayer ! I remember once, in the confusion and hurry of
bafiling winds and whistling shot, having always turbans
before the eye, and the bastinado in mind, to have be-
seeched St. Stefano, in some such voice as one would use
to a dog, and to have bullied the men with the whine of a
young kitten. Corpo di Bacco! One hath need of ex-
perience in these affairs, Signor Roderigo, to know even
his own merits."
I believe thee. But who is this Gino, of whom thou
hast spoken, and what has his occupation, as a gondolier,
to do with one known in thy youth in Calabria ?”
“ Therein lie matters exceeding my knowledge. His
master, and I may say, my master, for I was born on his
estates, is the young Duca di Sant'Agata,—the same that
pushes his fortunes with the senate, in a claim to the riches
and honours of the last Monforte that sat in thy councils.
The debate hath so long endured, that the lad hath made
himself a gondolier, by sheer shoving an oar between his
master's palace and those of the nobles he moves with in-
terest—at least such is Gino's own history of his educa-
tion."
“I know the man.
He wears the colours of him he
serves. Is he of quick wit?”
“Signor Roderigo, all who come of Calabria cannot
boast that advantage. We are no more than our neigh-
bours, and there are exceptions in all communities, as


106
THE BRAVO.
and as
all families. Gino is ready enough with his oar,
good a youth, in his way, as need be. But as to looking
into things beyond their surface, why we should not expect
the delicacy of a becca-fica in a goose. Nature makes
men, though kings make nobles.-Gino is a gondolier."
“And of good skill?”
“ I say nothing of his arm, or his leg, both of which are
well enough in their places; but when it comes to knowing
men and things--poor Gino is but a gondolier! The lad
hath a most excellent heart, and is never backward to
serve a friend. I love him, but thou wouldst not bave me
say more than the truth will warrant."
** Well, keep thy felucca in readiness, for we know not
the moment it may be needed.”
“ Thou hast only to bring thy freight, Signore, to have
the bargain fulfilled.”
“Adieu.- I would recommend to thee, to keep apart
from all other trades, and to see that the revelries of to-
morrow do not debauch thy people.”
“God speed thee, Signor Roderigo.—Nought shall be
wanting.
The Bravo stepped into his gondolier, which glided from
the felucca's side with a facility which showed that an arm,
skilled in its use, held the oar. He waved his hand, in
adieu to Stefano, and then the boat disappeared among the
hulls that crowded the port.
For a few minutes the padrone of the Bella Sorrentina
continued to pace her decks, snuffing the fresh breeze that
came in over the Lido, and then he sought his rest.
this time, the dark, silent gondolas, which had been float-
ing by hundreds through the basin, were all gone. The
sound of music was heard no longer on the canals, and Ve-
nice, at all times noiseless and peculiar, seemed to sleep
the sleep of the dead.


THE BRAVO.
107
CHAPTER VIII.
The fisher came
From his green islet, bringing o'er the waves
His wife and little one; the husbandman
From the firm land, with many a friar and nun,
And village maiden, her first flight from home,
Crowding the common ferry.
ROGERS.
A BRIGHTER day than that which succeeded the night last
mentioned, never dawned upon the massive domes, the
gorgeous palaces, and the glittering canals of Venice. The
sun had not been long above the level of the Lido, before
the strains of horns and trumpets arose from the square of
St. Mark. They were answered, in full echoes, from the
distant arsenal. A thousand gondolas glided from the ca-
nals, stealing in every direction across the port, the Gui-
decca, and the various outer channels of the place, while
the well-known routes, from Fusina and the neighbouring
isles, were dotted with endless lines of boats, urging their
way towards the capital.
The citizens began to assemble early, in their holiday
attire, while thousands of contadini landed at the different
bridges, clad in the gay costumes of the main. Before
the day had far advanced, all the avenues of the great
square were again thronged, and by the time the bells of
the venerable cathedral had finished a peal of high rejoic-
ing, St. Mark's again teemed with its gay multitude. Few
appeared in masks, but pleasure seemed to lighten every
eye, while the frank and unconcealed countenance willingly
courted the observation and sympathy of its neighbours.


108
THE BRAVO.
In short, Venice and her people were seen, in all the gaiety
and carelessness of a favourite Italian festa. The banners
of the conquered nations flapped heavily on the triumphal
masts, each church-tower hung out its image of the
winged lion, and every palace was rich in its hangings of
tapestry and silk, floating from balcony and window.
In the midst of this exhilarating and bright spectacle was
heard the din of a hundred thousand voices. Above the
constant hum, there arose, from time to time, the blasts
of trumpets and the symphonies of rich music. Here the
improvisatore, secretly employed by a politic and myste-
rious government, recounted, with a rapid utterance, and
in language suited to the popular ear, at the foot of the
spars which upheld the conquered banners of Candia,
Crete, and the Morea, the ancient triumphs of the re-
public; while, there, a ballad-singer chaunted, to the
greedy crowd, the glory and justice of San Marco. Shouts
of approbation succeeded each happy allusion to the na-
tional renown; and bravos, loud and oft-repeated, were
the reward of the agents of the police, whenever they most
administered to the self-delusion and vanity of their au-
dience.
In the meantime, gondolas rich in carvings and gildings,
and containing females renowned for grace and beauty,
began to cluster, in hundreds, around the port. A gene-
ral movement had already taken place among the shipping,
and a wide and clear channel was opened from the quay,
at the foot of the Piazzetta, to the distant bank, which shut
out the waves of the Adriatic. Near this watery path,
boats of all sizes and descriptions, filled with the curious
and observant, were fast collecting.
The crowd thickened as the day drew on, all the vast
plains of the Padovano appearing to have given up their
people to swell the numbers of those that rejoiced. A few
timid and irresolute masks now began to appear in the


THE BRAVO.
109
throng, stealing a momentary pleasure under the favour of
that privileged disguise, from out of the seclusion and mo-
notony of their cloisters. Next came the rich marine equi-
pages of the accredited agents of foreign states, and then,
amid the sound of clarions and the cries of the populace,
the Bucentaur rowed out of the channel of the arsenal, and
came sweeping to her station, at the quay of St. Mark.
These preliminaries, which occupied some hours, being
observed, the javelin-men, and others employed about the
person
of the head of the republic, were seen opening an
avenue through the throng. After which, the rich strains of a
hundred instruments proclaimed the approach of the doge.
We shall not detain the narrative, to describe the pomp
in which a luxurious and affluent aristocracy, that in ge-
neral held itself aloof from familiar intercourse with those
it ruled, displayed its magnificence to the eyes of the mul-
titude, on an occasion of popular rejoicing. Long lines of
senators, dressed in their robes of office, and attended by
crowds of liveried followers, came from under the galleries
of the palace, and descended by the Giant's Stairway, into
the sombre court. Thence, the whole issued into the
Piazzetta, in order, and proceeded to their several stations,
on the canopied deck of the well-known bark. Each pa-
trician had his allotted place, and before the rear of the
cortège had yet quitted the quay, there was a long and
imposing row of grave legislators seated in the established
order of their precedency. The ambassadors, the high
dignitaries of the state, and the aged man, who had been
chosen to bear the empty honours of sovereignty, still re-
mained on the land, waiting, with the quiet of trained do-
cility, the moment to embark. At this moment, a man of
an embrowned visage, legs bare to the knee, and breast
open to the breeze, rushed through the guards, and kuelt on
the stones of the quay, at bis feet.
“Justice !--great prince!” cried the bold stranger; “jus-


110
THE BRAVO.
99
tice and mercy! Listen to one, who has bled for St.
Mark, and who hath his scars for his witnesses."
“ Justice and mercy are not always companions,” calmly
observed he who wore the horned bonnet, motioning to his
officious attendants to let the intruder stay.
Mighty prince! I come for the last.”
6. Who and what art thou ?”
“ A fisherman of the Lagunes. One named Antonio,
who seeketh the liberty of the prop of his years--a glorious
boy, that force and the policy of the state have torn from
27
me.
6. This should not be! Violence is not the attribute of
justice-but the youth hath offended the laws, and he
suffereth for his crimes?"
He is guilty, Excellent and most Serene Highness, of
youth, and health, and strength, with some skill in the
craft of the mariner. They have taken him, without warn-
ing or consent, for the service of the galleys, and have
left me in my age, alone.”
The expression of pity, which had taken possession of
the venerable features of the prince, changed instantly to
a look of uneasiness and distrust. The eye, which just
before had melted with compassion, became cold and set
in its meaning, and signing to his guards, he bowed with
dignity to the attentive and curious auditors, among the
foreign agents, to proceed.
“ Bear him away,” said an officer, who took his master's
meaning from the glance; “ the ceremonies may not be
retarded, for a prayer so idle.”
Antonio offered no resistance, but yielding to the pres-
sure of those around him, he sunk back meekly, among
the crowd, disappointment and sorrow giving place, for
an instant, to an awe and an admiration of the gorgeous
spectacle, that were perhaps in some degree inseparable
from his condition and habits. In a few moments, the


THE BRAVO.
111
slight interruption produced by this short scene, was for-
gotten in the higher interest of the occasion.
When the ducal party had taken their places, and an
admiral of reputation was in possession of the helm, the
vast and gorgeous bark, with its gilded galleries thronged
with attendants, swept away from the quay, with a grand
and stately movement. Its departure was the signal for a
new burst of trumpets and clarions, and for fresh acclama-
tions from the people. The latter rushed to the edge of
the water, and by the time the Bucentaur had reached the
middle of the port, the stream was black with the gondolas
that followed in her train. In this manner did the
gay
and shouting cortège sweep on, some darting a-head of
the principal bark, and some clinging, like smaller fish
swimming around the leviathan, as near to her sides, as
the fall of the ponderous oars would allow. As each effort
of the crew sent the galley farther from the land, the
living train seemed to extend itself, by some secret prin-
ciple of expansion; nor was the chain of its apparent con-
nection entirely broken, until the Bucentaur had passed
the island, long famous for its convent of religious Arme-
nians. Here the movement became slower, in order to
permit the thousand gondolas to approach, and then, the
whole moved forward, in nearly one solid phalanx, to the
landing of the Lido.
The marriage of the Adriatic, as the ceremony was
quaintly termed, has been too often described to need a
repetition here. Our business is rather with incidents of a
private and personal nature than with descriptions of pub-
lic events, and we shall pass over all that has no immediate
connection with the interest of the tale.
When the Bucentaur became stationary, a space around •
her stern was cleared, and the doge appeared in a rich gal-
lery, so constructed as to exhibit the action to all in sight.
a ring, glittering with precious stones, on high,
He held


112
THE BRAVO.
and, pronouncing the words of betrothal, he dropped it
upon the bosom of his fancied spouse. Shouts arose, trum-
pets blew their blasts, and each lady waved her handker-
chief, in felicitation of the happy union. In the midst of
the fracas—which was greatly heightened by the roar of
cannon on board the cruisers in the channel, and from the
guns
in the arsenal-a boat glided into the open space
be-
neath the gallery of the Bucentaur. The movement of the
arm which directed the light gondola was dexterous and
still strong, though the hairs of him who held the oar were
thin and white. A suppliant eye was cast up at the happy
faces that adorned the state of the prince, and then the
look was changed intently to the water. A small fisher-
man's buoy fell from the boat, which glided away so soon,
that, amid the animation and uproar of that moment, the
action was scarce heeded by the excited throng.
The aquatic procession now returned towards the city,
the multitude rending the air with shouts at the happy ter-
mination of a ceremony, to which time and the sanction
of the sovereign pontiff had given a species of sanctity that
was somewhat increased by superstition. It is true that
a few, among the Venetians themselves, regarded these
famous nuptials of the Adriatic with indifference; and that
several of the ministers of the northern and more maritime
states, who were witnesses on the occasion, had scarcely
concealed, as they cast glances of intelligence and pride
among themselves, their smiles.
Still, such was the in-
fluence of habit, for so much does even arrogant assump-
tion, when long and perseveringly maintained, count among
men, that neither the increasing feebleness of the republic,
nor the known superiority of other powers on the very
ele-
ment which this pageant was intended to represent as the
peculiar property of St. Mark, could yet cover the lofty
pretension with the ridicale it merited. Time has since
taught the world, that Venice continued this idle deception


THE BRAVO.
113
pre
for ages
e, tra
and
Daca
DUSE
ele
bea
7TH
after both reason and modesty should have dictated
its discontinuance; but, at the period of which we write,
that ambitious, crapulous, and factitious state was rather
beginning to feel the symptomatic evidence of its fading cir-
cumstances, than to be fully conscious of the swift progress
of a downward course. In this manner do communities,
like individuals, draw near their dissolution, inattentive to
the symptoms of decay, until they are overtaken with that
fate, which finally overwhelms empires and their power in
the common lot of man.
The Bucentaur did not return directly to the quay, to
disburthen itself of its grave and dignified load.' The gaudy
galley anchored in the centre of the port, and opposite to
the wide mouth of the great canal. Officers had been
busy, throughout the morning, in causing all the shipping
and heavy boats, of which hundreds lay in that principal
artery of the city, to remove from the centre of the passage,
and heralds now summoned the citizens to witness the
regatta, with which the public ceremonies of the day were
to terminate.
Venice, from her peculiar formation and the vast num-
ber of her watermen, had long been celebrated for this
species of amusement. Families were known and cele-
brated in her traditions for dexterous skill with the oar, as
they were known in Rome for feats of a far less useful and
of a more barbarous nature. It was usual to select from
these races of watermen the most vigorous and skilful; and,
after invoking the aid of patron-saints, and arousing their
pride and recollections by songs that recounted the feats
of their ancestors, to start them for the goal, with every
incitement that pride and the love of victory could awaken.
Most of these ancient usages were still observed. As
soon as the Bucentaur was in its station, some thirty or
forty gondoliers were brought forth, clad in their gayest
tra
Hel
VICE
21
ple
8


114
THE BRAVO.
The re.
habiliments, and surrounded and supported by crowds of
anxious friends and relatives. The intended competitors
were expected to sustain the long-established reputations of
their several names, and they were admonished of the dis-
grace of defeat. . They were cheered by the men, and sti-
mulated by the smiles and tears of the other sex.
wards were recalled to their minds; they were fortified by
prayers to the saints ; and then they were dismissed, amid
the cries and the wishes of the multitude, to seek their
allotted places beneath the stern of the galley of state.
It has already been mentioned in these pages, that the
city of Venice is divided into two nearly equal parts, by a
channel much broader than that of the ordinary passages
of the town. This dividing artery, from its superior size
and depth, and its greater importance, is called the grand
canal. Its course is not unlike that of an undulating line,
which greatly increases its length. As it is much used by
the larger boats of the bay-being, in fact, a sort of secon-
dary port-and its width is so considerable, it has througli-
out the whole distance but one bridge--the celebrated
Rialto. The regatta was to be held on this canal, which
offered the requisites of length and space, and which, as it
was lined with most of the palaces of the principal senators,
afforded all the facilities necessary for viewing the strug-
gle.
la passing from one end of this long course to the other,
the men destined for the race were not permilted to make
any exertion. Their eyes roamed over the gorgeous hang.
ings, which, as is still wont throughout Italy on all days
of festa, floated from every window, and on groups of fe-
males in rich attiro, brilliant with the peculiar charms of
the famed Venetian beauty, that clustered in the balconies.
Those who were domestics, rose and answered to the en-
couraging signals thrown from above, as they passed the


THE BRAVO.
115
3
palaces of their masters; while those who were watermen
of the public, endeavoured to gather hope among the sym-
pathizing faces of the multitude.
At length every formality had been duly observed, and
the competitors assumed their places. The gondolas were
much larger than those commonly used, and each was
manned by three watermen, in the centre, directed by a
fourth, who, standing on the little deck in the stern, steered,
while he aided to impel the boat. There were light, low
staffs in the bows, with flags, that bore the distinguishing
colours of several noble families of the republic, or which
had such other simple devices as had been suggested by
the fancies of those to whom they belonged. A few flou-
rishes of the oars, resembling the preparatory movements
which the master of fence makes ere he begins to push and
parry, were given; a whirling of the boats, like the
pranc-
ing of curbed racers, succeeded; and then, at the report
of a gun, the whole darted away as if the gondolas were
impelled by volition. The start was followed by a shout,
which passed swiftly along the canal, and an eager agitation
of heads, that went from balcony to balcony, till the sym-
pathetic movement was communicated to the grave load
under which the Bucentaur laboured.
For a few minutes the difference in force and skill was
not very obvious. Each gondola glided along the element,
apparently with that ease with which a light-winged swallow
skims the lake, and with no visible advantage to either of
the ten. Then, as more art in him who steered, or greater
powers of endurance in those who rowed, or some of the
latent properties of the boat itself, came into service, the
cluster of little barks, which had come off like a closely-
united flock of birds taking flight together in alarm, began
to open, till they formed a long and vacillating line, in the
centre of the passage. The whole train shot beneath the
bridge, so near each other, as to render it still doubtful
8 *


116
THE BRAVO.
which was to conquer, and the exciting strife came more
in view of the principal personages of the city.
But here those radical qualities, which ensure success
in efforts of this nature, manifested themselves. The
weaker began to yield, the train to lengthen, and hopes
and fears to increase, until those in the front presented the
exhilarating spectacle of success, while those behind offered
the still more noble sight of men struggling without hope.
Gradually the distances between the boats increased, while
that between them and the goal grew rapidly less, until
three of those in advance came in, like glancing arrows,
beneath the stern of the Bucentaur, with scarce a length
between them. The prize was won, the conquerors were
rewarded, and the artillery gave forth the usual signals of
rejoicing. Music answered to the roar of cannon and the
peals of bells, while sympathy with success, that predo-
minant and so often dangerous principle of our nature,
drew shouts even from the disappointed.
The clamour ceased, and a herald proclaimed aloud the
commencement of a new and a different struggle. The
last, and what might be termed the national race, had been
limited, by an ancient usage, to the known and recognized
gondoliers of Venice. The prize had been awarded by
the state, and the whole affair had somewhat of an official
and political character. It was now announced, however,
that a race was to be run, in which the reward was open
to all competitors, without question as to their origin, or as
to their ordinary occupations. : An oar of gold, to which
was attached a chain of the same precious metal, was ex-
hibited as the boon of the doge to him who showed most
dexterity and strength in this new struggle; while a similar
ornament of silver was to be the portion of him, who
showed the second best dexterity and bottom. A mimic
boat, of less precious metal, was the third prize. The
gondolas were to be the usual light vehicles of the canals ;


THE BRAVO.
117
1
and as the object was to display the peculiar skill of that
city of islands, but one oarsman was allowed to each, on
whom would necessarily fall the whole duty of guiding,
while he impelled his little bark. Any of those who had
been engaged in the previous trial were admitted to this;
and all desirous of taking part in the new struggle were
commanded to come beneath the stern of the Bucentaur,
within a prescribed number of minutes, that note might
be had of their wishes. As notice of this arrangement had
been previously given, the interval between the two races
was not long.
The first who came out of the crowd of boats, which en-
vironed the vacant place that had been left for the compe-
litors, was a gondolier of the public landing, well known
for his skill with the oar, and his song on the canal.
“How art thou called, and in whose name dost thou put
thy chance ?" demanded the herald of this aquatic course.
“All know me for Bartolomeo, one who lives between
the Piazetta and the Lido, and, like a loyal Venetian, I
trust in San Teodoro."
“ Thou art well protected; take thy place, and await thy
fortune."
The conscious waterman swept the water with a back
stroke of his blade, and the light gondola whirled away
into the centre of the vacant spot, like a swan giving a
sudden glance aside.
* And who art thou ?" demanded the official of the next
>>
that came.
99
“Enrico, a gondolier of Fusina. I come to try my oar
with the braggarts of the canals.”
“In whom is thy trust?"
"Sant' Antonio di Padua."
“Thou wilt need his aid, though we commend thy spi-
rit. Enter, and take place.”_" And who art thou ?” he


118
THE BRAVO.
continued, to another, when the second had imitated the
easy skill of the first.
“I am called Gino' of Calabria, a gondolier in private
service.”
• What noble retaineth thee?"
6. The illustrious and most excellent Don Camillo Mon-
forte, Duca and Lord of Sant' Agata in Napoli, and of
right a senator in Venice.”
“Thou shouldst have come of Padua, friend, by thy
knowledge of the laws ! Dost thou trust in him thou serv-
est for the victory ?”
There was a movement among the senators at the answer
of Gino; and the half-terrified varlet thought he perceived
frowns gathering on more than one brow. He looked
around in quest of him whose greatness he had vaunted,
as if he sought succour.
“ Wilt thou name thy support in this great trial of force?"
resumed the herald.
"My master," uttered the terrified Gino, “St. Januarius,
and St. Mark.”
“ Thou art well defended. Should the two latter fail
thee, thou mayest surely count on the first !”
“Signor Monforte has an illustrious name, and he is
welcome to our Venetian sports," observed the doge,
slightly bending his head towards the young Calabrian
noble, who stood at no great distance, in a gondola of state,
regarding the scene with a deeply-interested countenance.
This cautious interruption of the pleasantries of the official
was acknowledged by a low reverence, and the matter
proceeded.
“Take thy station, Gino of Calabria, and a happy for-
tune be thine,” said the latter; then turning to another, he
asked in surprise-“Why art thou here ?”
“I come to try my gondola's swiftness."


THE BRAVO.
119
« Thou art old, and unequal to this struggle; husband
thy strength for daily toil. An ill-advised ambition hath
put thee on this useless trial.”
The new aspirant had forced a common fisherman's gon-
dola, of no bad shape, and of sufficient lightness, but which
bore about it all the vulgar signs of its daily uses, beneath
the gallery of the Bucentaur. He received the reproof
meekly, and was about to turn his buat aside, though with
a sorrowing and mortified eye, when a sign from the doge
arrested his arm.
“Question him, as of wont,” said the prince.
“ How art thou damed " continued the reluctant oflicial,
who, like all of subordinate condition, had far more jea-
lousy of the dignity of the sports hé directed, than his
superior.
“I am known as Antonio, a fisherman of the Lagunes.”
“ Thou art old !"
“Signore, none know it better than I. It is sixty sum-
mers since I first threw net, or line, into the water.'
“Nor art thou clad, as befitteth one who cometh before
the state of Venice, in a regatta.”
“I am here in the best that I have. Let them who
would do the nobles greater honour, come in better.”
Thy limbs are uncovered—thy bosom bare—thy sinews
feeble-go to; thou art ill advised to interrupt the pleasures
of the nobles, by this levity.”
Again Antonio would have shrunk from the ten thou-
sand eyes that shone upon him, when the calm voice of the
doge once more came to his aid.
“ The struggle is open to all,” said the sovereign; “ still
I would advise the poor and aged man to lake counsel;
give him silver, for want urges him to this hopeless trial.”
“Thou hearést; alms are offered thee; but give place
to those who are stronger, and more seemly, for the
sport."


120
THE BRAVO.
.
“I will obey, as is the duty of one born and accustomed
to poverty. They said the race was open to all, and I
crave the pardon of the nobles, since I meant to do them
no dishonour.”
• Justice in the palace, and justice on the canals,"
hastily observed the prince. “If he will continue, it is
his right. It is the pride of St. Mark that his balances are
held with an even hand.”
A murmur of applause succeeded the specious sen-
timent, for the powerful rarely affect the noble attribute
of justice, however limited may be its exercise, with-
out their words finding an echo in the tongues of the
selfish.
“ Thou hearest-His Highness, who is the voice of a
mighty state, says thou mayest remain ;-though thou art
still advised to withdraw,"
“I will then see what virtue is left in this naked arm,"
returned Antonio, casting a mournful glance, and one that
was not entirely free from the latent vanity of man, at his
meagre and threadbare attire.
6. The limb hath its scars,
but the infidels may have spared enough, for the little
I ask.”
• In whom is thy faith ?”
Blessed St. Anthony, of the Miraculous Draught.
“Take thy place.-Hal here cometh one unwilling
to be known! How now; who appears with so false a
face?"
Call me, Mask.”
So neat and just a leg and arm, need not have hid
their fellow, the countenance. Is it your highness's plea-
sure that one disguised should be entered for the sports ?”
- Doubt it not. A mask is sacred in Venice. It is the
glory of our excellent and wise laws, that he who seeketh
to dwell within the privacy of his own thoughts, and to
keep aloof from curiosity by shadowing his features, rangeth
97
66


122
THE BRAVO.
“I name bim who may have pity on me, in this living
desert. "
“ The temper of thy soul is best known to thyself, but
this reverend rank of patricians, yonder brilliant show of
beauty, and that goodly multitude, may claim another
name.-Take thy place.”
While the herald proceeded to take the names of three
or four more applicants, all gondoliers in private service, a
murmur ran through the spectators, which proved how
much their interest and curiosity had been awakened, by
the replies' and appearance of the two last coinpetitors.
In the mean time, the young nobles who entertained those
who came last, began to move among the throng of boats,
with the intention of making such manifestations of their
gallant desires, and personal devotion, as suited the cus-
toms and opinions of the age. The list was now proclaimed
to be full, and the gondolas were towed off, as before,
towards the starting-point, leaving the place, beneath the
stern of the Bucentaur, vacant. The scene that followed,
consequently passed directly before the eyes of those grave
men, who charged themselves with most of the private
interests, as well as with the public concerns of Venice.
There were many unmasked and high-born dames,
whirling about in their boats, attended by cavaliers in rich
attire, and, here and there, appeared a pair of dark lustrous
eyes, peeping through the silk of a visor, that concealed
some countenance too youthful for exposure, in so gay a
One gondola, in particular, was remarked for the
singular grace and beauty of the form it held; qualities
which made themselves apparent, even through the half
disguise of the simple habiliments she wore. The boat.
the servants, and the ladies, for there were two, were alike
distinguished for that air of severe but finished simplicity,
which oftener denotes the presence of high quality and
scene.


THE BRAVO.
123
true taste, than a more lavish expenditure of vulgar orna-
ment. A Garmelite, whose features were concealed by
his cowl, testified that their condition was high, and lent
a dignity to their presence, by his reverend and grave
protection. A hundred gondolas approached this party,
and after as many fruitless efforts to penetrate the disguises,
glided away, while whispers and interrogatories passed
from one to the other, to learn the name and station of
the youthful beauty. At length, a gay bark, with water-
men in gorgeous liveries, and in whose equipment there
was a studied display of magnificence, came into the little
circle that curiosity had drawn together. The single ca-
valier, who occupied the seat, arose, for few gondolas ap-
peared that day with their gloomy-looking and mysterious
pavilions, and saluted the masked females, with the ease
of one accustomed to all presences, but with the reserve
of deep respect.
“I have a favourite follower in this race," he said,
lantly, “and one in whose skill and force I put great trust.
Until now, I have uselessly sought a lady of a beauty and
merit so rare, as to warrant that I should place his fortune
on her smiles. But I seek no farther."
“You are gifted with a keen sight, Signore, that you
dis-
cover all
you
seek beneath these masks,” returned one of
the two females, while their companion, the Carmelite,
bowed graciously to the compliment, which seemed little
more than was warranted by the
usage
of such scenes.
“ There are other means of recognition than the eyes, and
other sources of admiration than the senses, lady. Conceal
yourselves as you will, here do I know that I am near the
fairest face, the warmest heart, and the purest mind of
Venice!”
“ This is bold augury, Signore," returned she, who was
evidently the oldest of the two, glancing a look at her com-
panion, as if to note the effect of this gallant speech. "Venice
gal-


124
THE BRAVO.
has a name for the beauty of its dames, and the sun of Italy
warms many a generous heart."
“Better that such noble gifts should be directed to the
worship of the Creator than of the creature," murmured
the monk.
“Some there are, holy father, who have admiration for
both. Such I would fain hope is the happy lot of her who
is favoured with the spiritual counsel of one so virtuous and
wise as yourself. Here I place my fortune, let what may
follow; and here would I gladly place a heavier stake, were
it permitted."
As the cavalier spoke, he tendered to the silent fair a
bouquet of the sweetest and most fragrant flowers; and
among them were those to which poets and custom have
ascribed the emblematic qualities of constancy and love.
She, to whom this offering of gallantry was inade, hesitaled
to accept it. It much exceeded the reserve imposed on one
of her station and years, to allow of such homage from the
other sex, though the occasion was generally deemed one
that admitted of more than usual gallantry; and she evi-
dently shrunk, with the sensitiveness of one whose feelings
were unpractised, from an homage so public.
Receive the flowers, my love,” mildly whispered her
companion ; "the cavalier who offers it simply intends to
shaw the quality of his breeding.
“ That will be seen in the end,” hastily returned Don
Camillo—for it was he. Signore, adieu ; we have met on
this water when there was less restraint between us.
He bowed, and signing to his gondolier, was quickly lost
in the crowd of boats. Ere the barks, however, were se-
parated, the mask of the silent fair was slightly moved, as
if she sought relief from the air; and the Neapolitan was
rewarded for his gallantry, by a momentary glance at the
glowing countenance of Violetta.
“Thy guardian hath a displeased eye,” hurriedly ob-
9?
66


THE BRAVO.
125
served Donna Florinda. "I wonder that we should be
known !"
"I should more wonder that we were not. I could recal
the noble Neapolitan cavalier amid a million! Thou dost
not remember all that I owe to him !"
Donna Florinda did not answer; but in secret, she of-
fered up a fervent prayer that the obligation might be
blessed to the future happiness of her who had received
it. There was a furtive and uneasy glance between her
and the Carinelite: but, as neither spoke, a long and
thoughtful silence succeeded the rencontre.
From this musing, the party, in common with all the gay
and laughing multitude by which they were surrounded,
were reminded of the business on which they were as-
sembled by the signal-gun, the agitation on the great
canal nearest to the scene of strife, and a clear blast of
the trumpets. But in order that the narrative may proceed
regularly, it is fit that we should return, a little, in the
order of time.


126
THE BRAVO.
CHAPTER IX.
Here art thon in appointment fresh and fair,
Anticipating time with starting courage.
SHAKSPEARE.
It has been seen that the gondolas, which were to con-
tend in the race, had been towed towards the place of start-
ing, in order that the men might enter on the struggle with
undiminished vigour. In this precaution, even the humble
and half-clad fisherman had not been neglected, but his
boat, like the others, was attached to the larger barges to
which this duty had been assigned. Still, as he passed
along the canal, before the crowded balconies and groan-
ing vessels which lined its sides, there arose that scornful
and deriding laugh, which seems ever to grow more strong
and bold, as misfortune weighs most heavily on its subject.
The old man was not unconscious of the remarks of
which he was the subject; and, as it is rare indeed that
our sensibilities do not survive our better fortunes, even he
was so far conscious of a fall as not to be callous to contempt
thus openly expressed. He looked wistfully on every
side
of bim, and seemed to search, in every eye he encountered,
some portion of the sympathy which his meek and humbled
feelings still craved. But even the men of his caste and
profession threw jibes upon his ear; and, though of all the
competitors perhaps the one whose motive most hallowed
his ambition, he was held to be the only proper subject of
mirth. For the solution of this revolting trait of human
character, we are not to look to Venice and her institutions,


THE BRAVO.
127
22
since it is known that none are so arrogant, on occasions,
as the ridden, and that the abject and insolent spirits are
usually tenants of the same bosom.
The movement of the boats brought those of the masked
waterman and the subject of these taunts side by side.
“ Thou art not the favourite in this strife," observed the
former, when a fresh burst of jibes were showered on the
head of his unresisting associate. * Thou hast not been
sufficiently heedful of thy attire ; for this is a town of luxury,
and he who would meet applause must appear on the canals
in the guise of one less borne upon by fortune.
“I know them! I know them !” returned the fisher-
man; “they are led away by their pride, and they think
ill of one who cannot share in their vanities. But, friend
unknown, I have brought with me a face which, old though
it be, and wrinkled, and worn by the weather like the
stones of the sea-shore, is uncovered to the eye and with-
out shame.”
“There may be reasons, which thou knowest not, why
I wear a mask. But if my face be hid, the limbs are bare,
and thou seest there is no lack of sinews to make good that
which I have undertaken. Thou shouldst have thought
better of the matter, ere thou puttest thyself in the way of
so much mortification. Defeat will not cause the people
to treat thee more tenderly.”
“If my sinews are old and stiffened, Signore Mask, they
are long used to toil. As to shame, if it is a shame to be
below the rest of mankind in fortune, it will not now come
for the first time. A heavy sorrow hath befallen me, and
this race may lighten the burthen of grief. I shall not
pretend that I hear this laughter, and all these scornful
speeches as one listens to the evening breeze on the Lagunes
-for a man is still a man, though he lives with the hum-
blest, and eats of the coarsest. But let it pass; Sant' An-
tonio will give me heart to bear it!”


1:28
THE BRAVO.
“ Thou hast a stout mind, fisherman; and I would gladly
pray my patron to grant thee a stronger arm, but that I
have much need of this victory myself. Wilt thou be con-
tent with the second prize, if, by any manner of skill, I
might aid thee in thy efforts ?-for, I suppose, the metal of
the ihird is as litile to thy taste as it is to my own.”
· Nay, I count not on gold, or silver."
“ Can the honour of such a struggle awaken the pride
of one like thee?”
The old man looked earnestly at his companion; but he
shook his head, without an answer. Fresh merriment, at
his expense, caused him to bend his face towards the scoff-
ers; and he perceived they were, just then, passing a nu-
merous group of his fellows of the Lagunes, who seened
to feel that his unjustifiable ambition reflected, in some
degree, on the honour of their whole body.
• How now, old Antonio !" shouted the boldest of the
band—“is it not enough that thou hast won the honours of
the net, but thou wouldst have a golden oar at thy neck ?"
• We shall yet see him of the senate !" cried a second.
« He standeth in need of the horned bonnet for his naked
head,” continued a third. "We shall see the brave Ad-
miral Antonio, sailing in the Bucentaur, with the nobles
of the land !”
Their sallies were succeeded by hoarse laughter. Even the
fair, in the balconies, were not uninfluenced by these con-
stant jibes, and the apparent discrepancy between the con-
dition and the means of so unusual a pretender to the ho-
nours of the regatta. The purpose of the old man wavered;
but he seemed goaded by some inward incentive that still
enabled him to maintain his ground. His companion
closely watched the varying expression of a countenance
that was far too little trained in deception to conceal the
feelings within ; and, as they approached the place of start-
ing, he again spoke.


THE BRAVO.
129
de
at th
bea
• Thou mayest yet withdraw,” he said ;-—“why should
one of thy years make the little time he has to stay bitter,
by bearing the ridicule of his associates for the rest of his
life?”
51
72
men
es
Seon
003
med
“St. Anthony did a greater wonder, when he caused the
fishes to come upon the waters to hear his preaching, and
I will not show a cowardly heart, at a moment when there
is most need of resolution."
The masked waterman crossed himself devoutly; and,
relinquishing all further design to persuade the other to
abandon the fruitless contest, he gave all his thoughts to
his own interest in the coming struggle.
The narrowness of most of the canals of Venice, with
the innumerable angles and the constant passing, have
given rise to a fashion of construction and of rowing that
are so peculiar to that city and its immediate dependencies,
as to require some explanation. The reader has doubtless
already understood that a gondola is a long, narrow, and
light boat, adapted to the uses of the place, and distinct
from the wherries of all other towns. The distance be-
tween the dwellings, on most of the canals, is so small, that
the width of the latter does not admit of the use of oars on
both sides at the same time. The necessity of constantly
turning aside to give room for others, and the frequency of
the bridges and the corners, have suggested the expediency
of placing the face of the waterman in the direction in
which the boat is steering, and, of course, of keeping him
on his feet. As every gondola, when fully equipped, has
its.pavilion in the centre, the height of the latter renders
it
necessary to place him who steers on such an elevation,
as will enable him to overlook it. From these several
causes, a one-oared boat, in Venice, is propelled by a gondo-
lier who stands on a little angular deck in its stern, formed
like the low roof of a house; and the stroke of the oar is
given by a push, instead of a pull, as is common elsewhere.
COM
Det
et
ook
PG
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9


THE BRAVO.
131
66
or pride, or apprehension, became the feeling of the mo-
ment.
“Gino of Calabria,” cried the marshal who placed the
gondolas, “thy station is on the right. Take it, and St.
Januarius speed thee!”
The servitor of Don Camillo assumed his oar, and the
boat glided gracefully into its berth.
“ Thou comest next, Enrico of Fusina. Call stoutly on
thy Paduan patron, and husband thy strength; for none of
the inain have ever yet borne away a prize in Venice.”
He then summoned, in succession, those whose names
bave not been mentioned, and placed them, side by side,
in the centre of the canal.
Here is place for thee, Signore," continued the officer,
inclining his head to the unknown gondolier; for he had
imbibed the general impression that the face of soine young
patrician was concealed beneath the mask, to humour the
fancy of some capricious fair.—“Chance hath given thee
the extreme left.”
“Thou hast forgotten to call the fisherman,” observed
the masker, as he drove his own gondola into its station.
“Does the hoary fool persist in exposing his vanity and
his rags to the best of Venice ?”
“I can take place in the rear,” meekly observed Anto-
nio. “There may be those in the line it doth not become
one like me to crowd ; and a few strokes of the oar, more
or less, can diſfer but little, in so long a strife.'
“Thou hadst better push modesty to discretion, and re-
main.'
“ If it be your pleasure, Signore, I would rather see what
St. Anthony may do for an old fisherman, who has prayed
to him, night and morning, these sixty years.
“It is thy right; and, as thou seemest content with it,
keep the place thou hast in the rear. It is only occupying
it a little earlier than thou wouldst otherwise.--Now, recal
>>


THE BRAVO.
133
change, the eddies, and the other obstructions of the shore.
This maneuvre, which, in the language of the course, would
have been called “taking the track,” had the additional
advantage of throwing upon those who followed some trifling
impediment from the back-water. The sturdy and prac-
tised Bartolomeo of the Lido, as his companions usually
called him, came next, occupying the space on his leader's
quarter, where he suffered least from the reaction caused
by the stroke of his oar. The gondolier of Don Camillo,
also, soon shot out of the crowd, and was seen plying his
arms vigorously still further to the right, and a little in the
rear of Bartolomeo. Then came, in the centre of the ca-
nal, and near as might be in the rear of the triumphant wa-
terman of the main, a dense body, with little order and
varying positions, compelling each other to give way, and
otherwise increasing the difficulties of their struggle. More
to the left, and so near to the palaces as barely to allow
room for the
sweep of his oar, was the masked competitor,
whose progress seemed retarded by some unseen cause, for
he gradually fell behind all the others, until several boats'
lengths of open water lay between him and even the group
of his nameless opponents. Still he plied his arms steadily,
and with sufficient skill. As the interest of mystery had
been excited in his favour, a rumour passed up the canal,
that the young cavalier bad been little favoured by fortune
in the choice of a boat. Others, who reflected more deeply
on causes, whispered of the folly of one of his habits,
taking the risk of mortification by a competition with men
whose daily labour had hardened their sinews, and whose
practice enabled them to judge closely of every chance of
the race.
But when the eyes of the multitude turned from
the cluster of passing boats to the solitary barge of the
fisherman, who came singly on in the rear, admiration was
again turned to derision.
Antonio had cast aside the cap, he wore of wont, and


131
THE BRAVO.
the few straggling hairs that were left streamed about his
hollow temples, leaving the whole of his swarthy features
exposed to view. More than once, as the gondola came
on, his eyes turned aside reproachfully, as if he keenly
felt the stings of so many unlicensed tongues applied to
feelings which, though blunted by his habits and condi-
tion, were far from extinguished. Laugh rose above laugh,
however, and taunt succeeded taunt more bitterly as the
boats came among the gorgeous palaces, which lined the
canal nearer to the goal. It was not that the owners of
these lordly piles indulged in the unfeeling triumph, but
their dependants, constantly subject themselves to the de-
grading influence of a superior presence, let loose the long-
pent torrents of their arrogance, on the head of the first
unresisting subject which offered.
Antonio bore all these jibes manfully, if not in tranquil-
lity, and always without retort, until he again approached
the spot occupied by his companions of the Lagunes. Here
his eye sunk under the reproaches, and his oar faltered.
The taunts and denunciations increased as he lost ground,
and there was a moment when the rebuked and humbled
spirit of the old man seemed about to relinquish the con-
test. But dashing a hand across his brows, as if to clear a
sight which had become dimmed and confused, he conti-
nued to ply the oar, and, happily, he was soon past the
point most trying to his resolution. From this moment
the cries against the fisherman diminished, and as the Bu-
centaur, though still distant, was now in sight, interest in
the issue of the race absorbed all other feelings.
Enrico still kept the lead; but the judges of the gon-
dolier's skill began to detect signs of exhaustion in his
faltering stroke. The waterman of the Lido pressed him
hard, and the Calabrian was drawing more into a line with
them both. At this moment, too, the masked competitor
exhibited a force and skill that none had expected to see in


THE BRAVO.
135
one of his supposed rank. His body was thrown more
upon the effort of the oar, and as his leg was stretched
behind to aid the stroke, it discovered a volume of muscle,
and an excellence of proportion, that excited murmurs of
applause. The consequence was soon apparent. His gondola
glided past the crowd, in the centre of the canal, and by a
change that was nearly insensible, he became the fourth in the
race. The shouts which rewarded his success had scarcely
parted from the multitude, ere their admiration was called
to a new and an entirely unexpected aspect in the struggle.
Left to his own exertions, and less annoyed by that de-
rision and contempt, which often deſeats even more ge-
nerous exertions, Antonio had drawn nearer to the crowd
of nameless competitors. Though undistinguished in this
narrative, there were seen, in that group of gondoliers,
faces well known on the canals of Venice, as belonging to
watermen, in whose dexterity and force the city took pride.
Either favoured by his isolated position, or availing himself
of the embarrassment these men gave to each other, the
despised fisherman was seen a little on their left, coming
up abreast, with a stroke and velocity that promised further
success. The expectation was quickly realized. He passed
them all, amid a dead and wondering silence, and took his
station, as filth in the struggle.
From this moment all interest in those who formed the
vulgar mass was lost. Every eye was turned towards the
front, where the strife increased at each stroke of the oar,
and where the issue began to assume a new and doubtful
character. The exertions of the waterman of Fusina were
seemingly redoubled, though his boat went no faster. The
gondola of Bartolomeo shot past him; it was followed by
those of Gino and the masked gondolier, while not a cry
betrayed the breathless interest of'the multitude. But when
the boat of Antonio also swept a-head, there arose such a
hum of voices as escapes a throng, when a sudden and


136
THE BRAVO.
violent change of feeling is produced in their wayward sen-
timents. Enrico was frantic with the disgrace. He urged
every power of his frame to avert the dishonour, with the
desperate energy of an Italian, and then he cast himself into
the bottom of the gondola, tearing his hair and weeping, in
agony. His example was followed by those in the rear,
though with more governed feelings, for they shot aside
among the boats which lined the canal, and were lost to view.
From this open and unexpected abandonment of the
struggle, the spectators got the surest evidence of its des-
perate character. But as man has little sympathy for the
unfortunate, when his feelings are excited by competition,
the defeated were quickly forgotten. The name of Barto-
lomeo was borne high upon the winds, by a thousand
voices, and his fellows of the Piazzetta and the Lido, called
on him, aloud, to die for the honour of their craft. Well
did the sturdy gondolier answer to their wishes, for palace
after palace was left behind, and no further change was
made in the relative positions of the boats. But like his pre-
decessor, the leader redoubled his efforts, with a diminished
effect, and Venice had the mortification of seeing a stranger
leading one of the most brilliant of her regattas. Barto-
lomeo no sooner lost place, than Gino, the masker, and the
despised Antonio, in turn, shot by, leaving him who had
so lately been first in the race, the last. He did not, how-
ever, relinquish the strife, but continued to struggle with
the energy of one who merited a better fortune.
When this unexpected and entirely new character was
given to the contest, there still remained a broad sheet of
water, between the advancing gondolas and the goal. Gino
led, and with many favourable symptoms of his being able
to maintain his advantage. He was encouraged by the
shouts of the multitude, who now forgot his Calabrian ori-
gin, in his success, while many of the serving-men of his
master cheered him on, by name. All would not do. The


THE BRAVO.
137
masked waterman, for the first time, threw the grandeur of
his skill and force into the oar. The ashen instrument bent
to the power of an arm, whose strength appeared to in-
crease at will, and the movements of his body became ra-
pid as the leaps of the greyhound. The pliant gondola
obeyed, and amid a shout which passed from the Piazetta
to the Rialto, it glided a-head.
If success gives force and increases the physical and
moral energies, there is a fearful and certain reaction in
defeat. The follower of Don Camillo was no exception to
the general law, and when the masked competitor passed
him, the boat of Antonio followed as if it were impelled by
the same strokes. The distance between the two leading
gondolas even now seemed to lessen, and there was a mo-
ment of breathless interest, when all there expected to see
the fisherman, in despite of his years and boat, shooting
past his rival.
But expectation was deceived. He of the mask, not-
withstanding his previous efforts, seemed to sport with the
toil, so ready was the sweep of his oar, so sure its stroke,
and so vigorous the arm by which it was impelled. Nor
was Antonio an antagonist lo despise. If there was less
of the grace of a practised gondolier of the canals in his
attitudes, than in those of his companion, there was no
relaxation in the force of his sinews. They sustained him
to the last, with that enduring power which had been be-
gotten by threescore years of unremitting labour; and
while his still athletic form was exerted to the utmost,
there appeared no failing of its energies.
A few moments sent the leading gondolas several lengths
a-head of their nearest followers. The dark beak of the
fisherman's boat hung upon the quarter of the more showy
bark of his antagonist, but it could do no more. The port
was open before them, and they glanced by church, palace,
barge, mystick, and felucca, without the slightest inequality


138
THE BRAVO.
72
in their relative speed. The masked waterman glanced a
look behind, as if to calculate his advantage, and then bend-
ing again to his pliant oar, he spoke, loud enough to be
heard only by him who pressed so hard upon bis track.
.
“ Thou hast deceived me, fisherman !” he said; "there
is more of manhood in thee, yet, than I had thought.”
“If there is manhood in my arms, there is childishness
and sorrow at the heart;" was the reply.
“Dost thou so prize a golden bauble? Thou art second;
be content with thy lot.”
“It will not do; I must be foremost, or I have wearied
my old limbs in vain!"
This brief dialogue was uttered, with an ease that showed
how far use had accustomed both to powerful bodily efforts,
and with a firmness of tones, that few could have equalled,
in a moment of so great physical effort. The masker was
silent, but his purpose seemed to waver. Twenty strokes
of his powerful oar-blade, and the goal was attained: but
his sinews were not so much extended, and that limb, which
had shown so fine a development of muscle, was less swollen
and rigid. The gondola of old Antonio glided abeam.
“Push thy soul into the blade,” muttered he of the
mask, “ or thou wilt yet be beaten!”
The fisherman threw every effort of his body on the
coming effort, and he gained a fathom. Another stroke
caused the boat to quiver to its centre, and the water curled
from its bows, like the ripple of a rapid. Then the gon-
dola darted between the two goal-barges, and the little flags
that marked the point of victory fell into the water. The
action was scarce noted, ere the glittering beak of the
masker shot past the eyes of the judges, who doubted, for
an instant, on whom success had fallen. Gino was not long
behind, and after him came Bartolomeo, fourth and last,
in the best contested race which had ever been seen on
the rs of Venice.


THE BRAVO.
139
be
0
66
When the flags fell, men held their breaths in suspense.
Few knew the victor, so close had been the struggle. But
a flourish of trumpels soon commanded attention, and then
a herald proclaimed, that-
" Antonio, a fisherman of the Lagunes, favoured by his
holy patron of the Miraculous Draught, had borne away the
prize of gold--while a waterman, who wore his face con-
cealed, but who hath trusted to the care of the blessed San
Giovanni of the Wilderness, is worthy of the silver prize;
and that the third had fallen to the fortunes of Gino of
Calabria, a servitor of the illustrious Don Camillo Monforte,
Duca di Sant'Agata, and lord of many Neapolitan Sei-
gnories."
When this formal announcement was made, there suc-
ceeded a silence like that of the tomb. Then there arose a
general shout among the living mass, which bore on high
the name of Antonio, as if they celebrated the success of
some conqueror. All feeling of contempt was lost in the
influence of his triumph. The fishermen of the Lagunes,
who so lately had loaded their aged companion with con-
tumely, shouted for his glory, with a zeal that manifested
the violence of the transition from mortification to pride,
and, as has ever been, and ever will be the meed of success,
he who was thought least likely to obtain it, was most
greeted with praise and adulation, when it was found that
the end had disappointed expectation. Ten thousand voices
were lifted, in proclaiming his skill and victory; and young
and old, the fair, the gay, the noble, the winner of sequins
and he who lost, struggled alike, to catch a glimpse of the
humble old man, who had so unexpectedly wrought this
change of sentiment in the feelings of a multitude.
Antonio bore his triumph meekly. When his gondola
had reached the goal, he checked its course, and, without
discovering any of the usual signs of exhaustion, he remained
standing, though the deep heaving of his broad and tawny


140
THE BRAVO.
chest, proved that his powers had been taxed to their ut-
most. He smiled as the shouts arose on his ear, for praise
is grateful, even to the meek; still he seemed oppressed,
with an emotion of a character deeper than pride. Age
had somewhat dimmed his eye, but it was now full of hope.
His features worked, and a single burning drop fell on each
rugged cheek. The fisherman then breathed more freely.
Like his successful antagonist, the waterman of the mask
betrayed none of the debility which usually succeeds great
bodily exertion. His knees were motionless, his hands still
grasped the oar firmly, and he too kept his feet with a
steadiness that showed the physical perfection of his frame.
On the other hand, both Gino and Bartolomeo sunk in their
respective boats, as they gained the goal, in succession; and
so exhausted was each of these renowned gondoliers, that
several moments elapsed before either had breath for
speech. It was during this momentary pause that the mul-
titude proclaimed its sympathy with the victor, by their
longest and loudest shouts. The noise had scarcely died
away, however, before a herald summoned Antonio of the
Lagunes, the masked waterman of the Blessed St. John of
the Wilderness, and Gino the Calabrian, to the presence
of the doge, whose princely hand was to bestow the
promised prizes of the regatta.
the
11
the
his
"I


THE BRAVO.
141
CHAPTER X.
We shall not spend a large expense of time,
Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you.
Macbeth.
When the three gondolas reached the side of the Bu-
centaur, the fisherman hung back, as if he distrusted his
right to intrude himself into the presence of the senate.
He was, however, commanded to ascend, and signs were
made for his two companions to follow.
The nobles, clad in their attire of office, formed a
long and imposing lane from the gangway to the stern,
where the titular sovereign of that still more titular re-
public was placed, in the centre of the high officers of the
state, gorgeous
and
grave, in borrowed guise and natural
qualities.
Approach," said the Prince, mildly, observing that the
old and half-naked man that led the victors hesitated to
advance. “ Thou art the conqueror, fisherman, and to
thy hands must I consign the prize.”
Antonio bent his knee to the deck, and bowed his head
lowly ere he obeyed. Then taking courage, he drew nearer
to the person of the doge, where he stood with a bewild-
ered eye and rebuked mien, waiting the further pleasure
of his superiors. The aged prince paused for stillness to
succeed the slight movements created by curiosity. When
he spoke, it was amid a perfect calm.
“It is the boast of our glorious republic,” he said,


142
THE BRAVO.
“ that the rights of none are disregarded ; that the lowly
receive their merited rewards as surely as the great; that
St. Mark holds the balance with an even hand, and that
this obscure fisherman, having deserved the honours of
this regatta, will receive them with the same readiness on
the part of him who bestows, as if he were the most
favoured follower of our own house. Nobles and burghers
of Venice, learn to prize your excellent and equable laws
in this occasion, for it is most in acts of familiar and com-
mon usage that the parental character of a government is
seen, since in matters of higher moment, the eyes of a
world impel a compliance with its own opinions.
The doge delivered these preliminary remarks in a firm
tone, like one confident of his auditors' applause. He was
not deceived. No sooner had he done, than a murmur of
approbation passed through the assembly, and extended
itself to thousands who were beyond the sound of his voice,
and to more who were beyond the reach of his meaning.
The senators bent their heads in acknowledgment of the
justice of what their chief had uttered, and the latter,
having waited to gather these signs of an approving loyalty,
proceeded.
“ It is my duty, Antonio, and, being a duty, it hath be-
come a pleasure, to place around thy neck this golden
chain. The oar which it bears is an emblem of thy skill;
and among thy associates it will be a mark of the republic's
favour and impartiality, and of thy merit. Take it, then,
vigorous old man, for though age hath thinned thy temples
and furrowed thy cheek, it hath scarce affected thy won-
derful sinews and hardy courage !"
Highness !” observed Antonio, recoiling a pace, when
he found that he was expected to stoop, in order that the
bauble might be bestowed, “I am not fit to bear about me
such a sign of greatness and good fortune. The glitter of


THE BRAVO.
143
the gold would mock my poverty, and a jewel, which comes
from so princely a hand, would be ill placed on a naked
bosom.”
This unexpected refusal caused a general surprise, and a
momentary pause.
“Thou hast not entered on the struggle, fisherman,
without a view to its prize! But thou sayest truly, the
golden ornament would, indeed, but ill befit thy condition
and daily wants. Wear it for the moment, since it is meet
that all should know the justice and impartiality of our de-
cisions, and bring it to my treasurer when the sports are
done; he will make such an exchange as better suits thy
wishes. There is precedent for this practice, and it shall.
be followed."
“Illustrious Highness ! I did not trust my old limbs in so
hard a strife without hopes of a reward. But it was not
gold, nor any vanity to be seen among my equals with that
glittering jewel, that led me to meet the scorn of the gon-
doliers, and the displeasure of the great.
** The art deceived, honest fisherman, if thou supposest
that we regard thy just ambition with displeasure. We
love to see a generous emulation among our people, and
take all proper means to encourage those aspiring spirits
who bring honour to 'a state, and fortune to our shores.”
“ I pretend not to place my poor thoughts against those
of my prince,” answered the fisherman; “my fears and
shame have led me to believe, that it would give more
pleasure to the noble and gay had a younger and happier
borne away this honour.”
“Thou must not think this. Bend, then, thy knee, that
I may bestow the prize. When the sun sets, thou wilt find
those in my palace, who will relieve thee of the ornament,
at a just remuneration."
“Highness !” said Antonio, looking earnestly at the doge,


144
THE BRAVO.
1
who again arrested his movement, in surprise, “I am old,
and little wont to be spoilt by fortune. For my wants, the
Lagunes, with the favour of the Holy St. Antony, are
sufficient; but it is in thy power to make the last days of
an old man happy, and to have thy name remembered in
many an honest and well-meant prayer. Grant me back my
child, and forget the boldness of a heart-broken father?”
“ Is not this he who urged us, with importunity, con-
cerning a youth that is gone into the service of the state ?"
exclaimed the prince, across whose countenance passed
that expression of habitual reserve, which so often con-
cealed the feelings of the man.
“The same," returned a cold voice, which the ear of An-
tonio well knew came from the Signor Gradenigo.
“Pity for thy ignorance, fisherman, represses our anger.
Receive thy chain and depart.”?
Antonio's
eye did not waver. He kneeled with an air of
profound respect, and folding his hands on his bosom, he
said
Misery has made me bold, dread Prince! What I say
comes from a heavy heart, rather than from a licentious
tongue, and I pray your royal ear to listen with indul-
gence.'
Speak briefly, for the sports are delayed.”
Mighty Doge! riches and poverty, have caused a dif-
ference in our fortunes, which knowledge and ignorance
have made wider. I am rude in my discourse, and little
suited to this illustrious company. But, Signore, God
hath given to the fisherman the same feelings, and the
same love for his offspring, as he has given to a prince.
Did I place dependence only on the aid of my poor learning,
I should now be dumb, but there is a strength within that
gives me courage to speak to the first and noblest in Ve-
nice in behalf of my child."
0
:


THE BRAVO.
145
“Thou canst not impeach the senate's justice, old man,
hor utter aught, in truth, against the known impartialit:
of the laws !"
“Sovrano mio! deign to listen, and you shall hear. I
am what your eyes behold-a man, poor, laborious, and
drawing near to the hour when he shall be called to the
side of the blessed St. Anthony of Rimini, and stand in a
presence even greater than this. I am not vain enough to
think that my humble name is to be found among those of
the patricians who have served the republic in her wars-
that is an honour which none but the great, and the noble,
and the happy can claim; but if the little I have done for
my country is not in the Golden Book, it is written here,”
as Antonio spoke, he pointed to the scars on his half-naked
form; “these are signs of the enmity of the Turk, and I
now offer them as so many petitions to the bounty of the
senate."
“Thou speakest vaguely. What is thy will ?"
• Justice, mighty Prince. They have forced the only
vigorous branch from the dying trunk—they have lopped
the withering stem of its most promising shoot--they have
exposed the sole companion of my labours and pleasures,
the child to whom I have looked to close my eyes, when it
shall please God to call me away, untaught, and young in
lessons of honesty and virtue, a boy in principle as in years,
to all the temptation, and sin, and dangerous companion-
ship of the galleys !"
“Is this all? I had thought thy gondola in the decay,
or thy right to use the Lacunes in question !"
"Is this all !” repeated Antonio, looking around him in
bitter melancholy. “Doge of Venice, it is
“Doge of Venice, it is more than one,
old, heart-stricken, and bereaved, can bear!"
“Go to! take thy golden chain and oar, and depart
among thy fellows in triumph. Gladden thy heart at a
10


146
THE BRAVO.
victory, on which thou couldst not, in reason, have
counted, and leave the interests of the state to those that
are wiser than thee, and more fitted to sustain its cares.
The fisherman arose, with an air of rebuked submission,
the result of a long life passed in the habit of political de-
ference; but he did not approach to receive the proffered
reward.
“ Bend thy head, fisherman, that his Highness may
bestow the prize," commanded an officer.
“I ask not for gold, nor any oar, but that which carries
me to the Lagunes in the morning, and brings me back
into the canals at night. Give me my child, or give me
nothing."
Away with him!” muttered a dozen voices; "he ut-
ters sedition ! let him quit the galley.”
Antonio was hurried from the presence, and forced into
his gondola wilh very unequivocal signs of disgrace. This
unwonted interruption of the ceremonies clouded many a
brow, for the sensibilities of a Venetian noble were quick,
indeed, to reprehend the immorality of political discontent,
though the conventional dignity of the class suppressed all
other ill-timed exhibition of dissatisfaction.
“Let the next competitor draw near,” continued the
sovereign, with a composure that constant practice in dis-
simulation rendered easy.
The unknown waterman, to whose secret favour Antonio
owed his success, approached, still concealed by the li-
censed mask
- Thou art the gainer of the second prize," said the
prince, “and were rigid justice done, thou shouldst re-
ceive the first also, since our favour is not to be rejected
with impunity-Kneel, that I may bestow the favour.”
Highness, pardon !” observed the masker, bowing with
great respect, but withdrawing a single step from the offered


THE BRAVO.
117
92
95
99
reward; “ if it be your gracious will to grant a boon, for
the success of the regatta, I, too, have to pray that it may
be given in another form.
“ This is unusual ! It is not wont that prizes, offered
by the hand of a Venetian doge, should go a-begging.'
“ I would not seem to press more than is respectful, in
this great presence. I ask but little, and, in the end,
it may cost the republic less than that which is now
offered.”
• Name it.”
“ I, too, and on my knee, in dutiful homage to the
chief of the state, beg that the prayer of the old fisherman
be heard, and that the father and son may be restored to
each other, for the service will corrupt the tender years of
the boy, and make the age of his parent miserable."
" This touches on importunity! Who art thou, that
comest in this hidden manner, to support a petition once
refused ?"
“ Highness-the second victor in the ducal regatta !”
“ Dost trifle in thy answers ! The protection of a mask,
in all that does not tend to unsettle the peace of the city,
is sacred. But here seemeth matter to be looked into.-
Remove thy disguise, that we may see thee, eye to eye.
“ I have heard that he who kept civil speech, and
in nought offended against the laws, might be seen at
will, disguised in Venice, without question of his affairs or
name.
“ Most true, in all that does not offend St. Mark. But
here is a concert worthy of inquiry : I command thee,
unmask.
The waterman, reading in every face around him the
necessity of obedience, slowly withdrew the means of con-
cealment, and discovered the pallid countenance and glit--
tering eyes of Jacopo. An involuntary movement of all
near left this dreaded person standing, singly, confronted
99
22
10 *


148
THE BRAVO.
HM
22
with the prince of Venice, in a wide circle of wondering
and curious listeners.
« I know thee not !" exclaimed the doge, with an open
amazement that proved his sincerity, after regarding the
other earnestly for a moment. Thy reasons for the dis-
guise should be better than thy reasons for refusing the
prize.
The Signor Gradenigo drew near to the sovereign, and
whispered in his ear. When he had done, the latter cast
one look, in which curiosity and aversion were in singular
union, at the marked countenance of the Bravo, and then
he silently motioned to him to depart. The throng drew
about the royal person, with instinctive readiness, closing
the space in his front.
“ We shall look into this at our leisure,” said the doge.
« Let the festivities proceed.”
Jacopo bowed low and withdrew. As he moved along
the deck of the Bucentaur, the senators made way, as if
pestilence was in his path, though it was quite apparent,
by the expressions of their faces, that it was in obedience
to a feeling of a mixed character. The avoided, but still
tolerated, Bravo descended to his gondola, and the usual
signals were given to the multitude beneath, who believed
the customary ceremonies were ended.
“ Let the gondolier of Don Camillo Monforte stand
forth,” cried a herald, obedient to the beck of a superior.
Highness, here;" answered Gino, troubled and hurried.
• Thou art of Calabria ?”
Highness, yes.”
“ But of long practice on our Venetian canals, or thy
gondola could never have outstripped those of the readiest
oarsmen.-Thou servest a noble master?"
Highness, yes.'
“ And it would seem that the Duke of St. Agata is happy
in the possession of an honest and faithful follower ?”


THE BRAVO.
149
Highness, too happy.”
“Kneel, and receive the reward of thy resolution and
skill.”
Gino, unlike those who had preceded him, bent a willing
knee to the deck, and took the prize with a low and hum-
ble inclination of the body. At this moment the attention
of the spectators was drawn from the short and simple ce-
remony by a loud shout, which arose from the water, at no
great distance from the privileged bark of the senate. A
common movement drew all to the side of the galley, and
the successful gondolier was quickly forgotten.
A hundred boats were moving, in a body, towards the
Lido, while the space they covered on the water presented
one compact mass of the red caps of fishermen. In the
midst of this marine picture was seen the bare head of An-
tonio, borne along in the floating multitude, without any
effort of his own. The general impulsion was received
from the vigorous arms of some thirty or forty of their
number, who towed those in the rear by applying their
force to three or four large gondolas in advance.
There was no mistaking the object of this singular and
characteristic procession. The tenants of the Lagunes,
with the fickleness with which extreme ignorance acts on
human passions, had suddenly experienced a violent revo-
lution in their feelings towards their ancient comrade. He
who, an hour before, had been derided as a vain and ridi-
culous pretender, and on whose head bitter imprecations
had been so lavishly poured, was now lauded with cries of
triumph.
The gondoliers of the canals were laughed to scorn, and
the ears of even the haughty nobles were not respected, as
the exulting band taunted their pampered menials.
In short, by a process which is common enough with
man in all the divisions and subdivisions of society, the


150
THE BRAVO.
DIC
101
merit of one was at once intimately and inseparably con-
nected with the glory and exultation of all.
Had the triumph of the fishermen confined itself to this
natural and common-place exhibition, it would not have
given grave offence to the vigilant and jealous power that
watched over the peace of Venice. But, amid the shouts
of approbation were mingled cries of censure. Words of
grave import were even heard, denouncing those who re-
fused to restore to Antonio his child; and it was whis-
pered on the deck of the Bucentaur, that, filled with the
imaginary importance of their passing victory, the hardy
band of rioters had dared to menace a forcible appeal, to
obtain what they audaciously termed the justice of the
case.
This ebullition of popular feeling was witnessed by the
assembled senate in ominous and brooding silence. One un-
accustomed to reflection on such a subject, or unpractised
in the world, might have fancied alarm and uneasiness
were painted on the grave .couptenances of the patricians,
and that the signs of the times were little favourable to the
continuance of an ascendancy, that was dependent more on
the force of convention, than on the possession of any phy-
sical superiority. But, on the other hand, one who was
capable of judging between the power of political ascen-
dancy, strengthened by its combinations and order, and the
mere ebullitions of passion, however loud and clamorous,
might readily have seen that the latter was not yet displayed
in sufficient energy to break down the barriers which the
first had erected.
The fishermen were permitted to go their way unmo-
lested, though here and there a gondola was seen stealing
towards the Lido, bearing certain of those secret agents of
the police whose duty it was to forewarn the existing powers
of the presence of danger. Among the latter was the


THE BRAVO.
151
boat of the wine-seller, which departed from the Piazetta,
containing a stock of his merchandise, with Annina, under
the pretence of making his profit out of the present turbu-
lent temper of their ordinary customers. In the mean
time the sports proceeded, and the momentary interrup-
tion was forgotten; or, if remembered, it was in a man-
ner suited to the secret and fearful power which directed
the destinies of that remarkable republic.
There was another regatta, in which men of inferior
powers contended; but we deem it unworthy to detain the
narrative by a description.
Though the grave tenants of the Bucentaur seemed to
take an interest in what was passing immediately before
their eyes, they had ears for every shout that was borne
on the evening breeze from the distant Lido; and more
than once the doge himself was seen to bend his looks in
that direction, in a manner which betrayed the concern
that was uppermost in his mind.
Still the day passed on as usual. The conquerors tri-
umphed, the crowd applauded, and the collected senate
appeared to sympathize with the pleasures of a people,
over whom they ruled with a certainty of power that re-
sembled the fearful and mysterious march of destiny.


152
THE BRAVO.
CHAPTER XI.
Which is the merchant here, and which the Jew.
SHAKSPEARE.
The evening of such a day, in a city with the habits of
Venice, was not likely to be spent in the dulness of retire-
ment. The great square of St. Mark was again filled with
its active and motley crowd, and the scenes already de-
scribed in the opening chapters of this work, were resumed,
if possible, with more apparent devotion to the levities of
the hour, than on the occasion mentioned. The tumblers
and jugglers renewed their antics, the cries of the fruit-
sellers and other venders of light luxuries were again min-
gled with the tones of the flute and the notes of the guitar
and harp, while the idle and the busy, the thoughtless and
the designing, the conspirator and the agent of the police,
once more met in privileged security.
The right had advanced beyond its turn, when a gondola
came gliding through the shipping of the port, with that
easy and swan-like motion, which is peculiar to its slow
movement, and touched the quay with its beak, at the
point where the canal of St. Mark forms its junction with
the bay.
- Thou art welcome, Antonio," said one, who approached
the solitary individual that had directed the gondola, when
the lalter had thrust the iron spike of his painter between
the crevices of the stones, as gondoliers are accustomed to
secure their barges ; "thou art welcome, Antonio, though
late.”


THE BRAVO.
153
“I begin to know the sounds of that voice, though they
come from a masked face," said the fisherman. “Friend,
I owe my success to-day to thy kindness, and though it has
not had the end for which I had both hoped and prayed,
I ought not to thank thee less. Thou hast thyself been
borne hard upon by the world, or thou wouldst not have
bethought thee of an old and despised man, when the
shouts of triumph were ringing in thy ear, and when thy
own young blood was stirred with the feelings of pride and
victory.”
“Nature gives thee strong language, fisherman. I have
not passed the hours, truly, in the games and levities of
my years.
Life has been no festa to me—but no matter.
The senate was not pleased to hear of lessening the number
of the gallies' crew, and thou wilt bethink thee of some
other reward. I have, here, the chain and golden oar, in
the hope that it will still be welcome.”
Antonio looked amazed, but, yielding to a natural curi-
osity, he gazed a moment with longing at the prize. Then,
recoiling with a shudder, he uttered moodily, and with the
tones of one whose determination was made : " I should
think the bauble coined of my grandchild's blood! Keep
it: they have trusted it to thee, for it is thine of right, and
now that they refuse to hear my prayer, it will be useless
to all but to him who fairly earned it.”
“Thou makest no allowance, fisherman, for difference
of years and for sinews that are in their vigour. Methinks
that in adjudging such a prize, thought should be had to
these matters, and then wouldst thou be found outstrip-
ping us all. Holy St. Theodore! I passed my childhood
with the oar in hand, and never before have I met one in
Venice who has driven my gondola so hard! Thou touchest
the water with the delicacy of a lady fingering her harp,
and yet with the force of the wave rolling on the
Lido!"


156
THE BRAVO.
.
sands, who were abroad to breathe the soft air of the night,
or to enter into the pleasures of the piazza.
When within the dimmer and broken light of the court,
Jacopo paused, evidently to scan the persons of those it
contained. It is to be presumed he saw no reason to delay,
for with a secret sign to bis companion to follow, he crossed
the area, and mounted the well-known steps, down which
the head of the Faliero had rolled, and which, from the
statues on the summit, is called the Giants' Stairs. The
celebrated mouths of the lions were passed, and they were
walking swiftly along the open gallery, when they encoun-
tered a halberdier of the ducal guard.
“Who comes?" demanded the mercenary, throwing for-
ward his long and dangerous weapon.
“ Friends to the state and to St. Mark."
“None pass, at this hour, without the word. ”
Jacopo motioned to Antonio to stand fast, while he drew
nearer to the halberdier and whispered. The weapon was
instantly thrown up, and the sentinel again paced the long
gallery, with practised indifference.
The way was no
sooner cleared than they proceeded. Antonio, not a little
amazed at what he had already seen, eagerly followed his
guide, for his heart began to beat high with an exciting
but undefined hope. He was not so ignorant of human af-
fairs as to require to be told, that those who ruled would
sometimes concede that in secret, which policy forbade
them to yield openly. Full, therefore, of the expectation
of being ushered into the presence of the doge himself, and
of having his child restored to his arms, the old man step-
ped lightly along the gloomy gallery, and darting through
an entrance, at the heels of Jacopo, he found himself at the
foot of another flight of massive steps. The route now be-
came confused to the fisherman, for, quitting the more
public vomitories of the palace, his companion held his way
by a secret door, through many dimly lighted and obscure


THE BRAVO.
157
passages. They ascended and descended frequently, as
often quitting or entering rooms of but ordinary dimen-
sions and decorations, until the head of Antonio was com-
pletely turned, and he no longer knew the general direc-
tion of their course. At length they stopped, in an apart-
ment of inferior ornaments, and of a dusky colour, which
the feeble light rendered still more gloomy.
“ Thou art well acquainted with the dwelling of our
prince,” said the fisherman, when his companion enabled
him to speak, by checking his swift movements.
6. The
oldest gondolier of Venice is not more ready on the canals,
than thou appearest to be among these galleries and cor-
ridors.”
“ 'Tis my business to bring thee hither, and what I am
to do, I endeavour to do well. Antonio, thou art a man
that feareth not to stand in the presence of the great, as
this day hath shown. Summon thy courage, for a mo-
ment of trial is before thee."
“I have spoken boldly to the doge. Except the Holy
Father himself, what power is there on earth beside to
fear?”
“ Thou mayst have spoken, fisherman, too boldly.
Temper thy language, for the great love not words of dis-
respect."
“ Is truth unpleasant to them ?”
“That as may be. They love to hear their own acts
praised, when their acts have merited praise, but they do
not like to hear them condemned, even though they know
what is said to be just.
“I fear me,” said the old man, looking with simplicity
at the other, there is little difference between the power-
ful and the weak, when the garments are stripped from
both, and the man stands naked to the eye.
“That truth may not be spoken here.”
92


158
THE BRAVO.
1
!
1
“ How! Do they deny that they are christians, and mor-
tals, and sinners ?”
They make a merit of the first, Antonio—they forget
the second, and they never like to be called the last, by
any but themselves.'
“I doubt, Jacopo, after all, if I get from them the free-
dom of the boy."
“Speak them fair, and say nought to wound their self-
esteem, or to menace their authority—they will pardon
much, if the last, in particular, be respected.”.
“But it is that authority which has taken away my
child! Can I speak in favour of the power which I know
to be unjust ?”
“ Thou must feign it, or thy suit will fail."
“I will go back to the Lagunes, good Jacopo, for this
tongue of mine hath ever moved at the bidding of the heart.
I fear I am too old to say that a son may righteously be
torn from the father by violence. Tell them, thou, from
me, that I came thus far, in order to do them respect, but,
that seeing the hopelessness of beseeching further, I have
gone to my nets, and to my prayers to blessed St. Anthony."
As he ceased speaking, Antonio wrung the hand of his
motionless companion, and turned away, as if to retire.
Two halberds fell to the level of his breast, ere his foot
had quitted the marble floor, and he now saw, for the first
time, that armed men crossed his passage, and that, in
truth, he was a prisoner. Nature had endowed the fisher-
man with a quick and just perception, and long habit had
given great steadiness to his nerves. When he perceived
his real situation, instead of entering into useless remon-
strance, or in any manner betraying alarm, he again turned
to Jacopo with an air of patience and resignation.
“ It must be that the illustrious Signori wish to do me
justice,” he said, smoothing the remnant of his hair, as
L
1


THE BRAVO.
159
men of his class prepare themselves for the presence of
their superiors, "and it would not be decent, in a humble
fisherman, to refuse them the opportunity. It would be
better, however, if there were less force used here in
Venice, in a matter of simple right and wrong. But the
great love to show their power, and the weak must submit.'
“We shall see!" answered Jacopo, who had manifested
no emotion during the abortive attempt of the other to
retire.
A profound stillness succeeded. The halberdiers main-
tained their rigid attitudes, within the shadow of the wall,
looking like two insensible statues, in the attire and armour
of the age, while Jacopo and his companion occupied the
centre of the room, with scarcely more of the appearance
of consciousness and animation. It may be well to explain
here, to the reader, some of the peculiar machinery of the
state, in the country of which we write, and which is con-
nected with the scene that is about to follow : for the name
of a republic, a word which, if it mean any thing, strictly
implies the representation and supremacy of the general
interests, but which has so frequently been prostituted to
the protection and monopolies of privileged classes, may
have induced him to believe that there was, at least, a re-
semblance between the outlines of that government, and
the more just, because more popular, institutions of his
own country.
In an age, when rulers were profane enough to assert,
and the ruled weak enough to allow, that the right of a
man to govern his fellows was a direct gift from God, a
departure from the bold and selfish principle, though it
were only in profession, was thought sufficient to give a
character of freedom and common sense to the polity of a
nation. This belief is not without some justification, since
it establishes in theory, at least, the foundations of govern-
ment on a base sufficiently different from that which sup-
1


160
THE BRAVO.
poses all power to be the property of one, and that one to
be the representative of the faultless and omnipotent Ruler
of the Universe. With the first of these principles we have
nothing to do, except it be to add that there are proposi-
tions so inherently false, that they only require to be fairly
stated to produce their own refutation; but our subject ne-
cessarily draws us into a short digression on the errors of
the second, as they existed in Venice.
It is probable that when the patricians of St. Mark
created a community of political rights in their own body,
they believed their state had done all that was necessary
to merit the high and generous title it assumed. They had
innovated on a generally received principle, and they can-
not claim the distinction of being either the first, or the
last, who have imagined that to take the incipient steps in
political improvement, is at once to reach the goal of per-
fection. Venice had no doctrine of divine right, and as her
prince was little more than a pageant, she boldly laid
claim to be called a republic. She believed that a repre-
sentation of the most prominent and brilliant interests of
society was the paramount object of government, and
faithful to the seductive, but dangerous, error, she mistook
to the last, collective power for social happiness.
It
may be taken as a governing principle, in all civil re-
lations, that the strong will grow stronger, and the feeble
more weak, until the first become unfit to rule, or the last
unable to endure. In this important truth is contained
the secret of the downfal of all those states which have
crumbled beneath the weight of their own abuses.
It
teaches the necessity of widening the foundations of society,
until the base shall have a breadth capable of securing
the just representation of every interest, without which
the social machine is liable to interruption from its own
movement, and eventually to destruction from its own ex-
f
♡
cesses.


THE BRAVO.
161
Venice, though ambitious and tenacious of the name of a
republic, was, in truth, a narrow, a vulgar, and an exceed-
ingly heartless oligarchy. To the former title she had
no other claim than her denial of the naked principle al-
ready mentioned, while her practice is liable to the re-
proach of the two latter, in the unmanly and narrow
character of its exclusion, in every act of her foreign po-
licy, and in every measure of her internal police. An
aristocracy must ever want the high personal feeling which
often tempers despotism by the qualities of the chief, or
the generous and humane impulses of a popular rule. It
has the merit of substituting things for men, it is true, but
unhappily it substitutes the things of a few men for those
of the whole. It partakes, and it always has partaken,
though necessarily tempered by circumstances and the
opinions of different ages, of the selfishness of all corpo-
rations, in which the responsibility of the individual, while
his acts are proſessedly submitted to the temporizing ex-
pedients of a collective interest, is lost in the subdivision
of numbers. At the period of which we write, Italy had
several of these self-styled commonwealths, in not one of
which, however, was there ever a fair and just confiding of
power to the body of the people, though perhaps there is
not one that has not been cited, sooner or later, in proof
of the inabilityof man to govern himself ! ! In order to
demonstrate the fallacy of a reasoning, which is so fond
of predicting the downfall of our own liberal system, sup-
ported by examples drawn from trans-Atlantic states of the
middle ages, it is necessary only to recount here, a little in
detail, the forms in which power was obtained and exer-
cised in the most important of them all.
Distinctions in rank, as separated entirely from the will
of the nation, formed the basis of Venetian polity. Au-
thority, though divided, was not less a birthright than in
those governments in which it was openly avowed to be a
Il


162
THE BRAVO.
dispensation of Providence. The patrician order had its
high and exclusive privileges, which were guarded and
maintained with a most selfish and engrossing spirit. He
who was not born to govern, had little hope of ever enter-
ing into the possession of his natural rights; while he who
was, by the intervention of chance, might wield a power
of the most fearful and despotic character. At a certain
age all of senatorial rank (for, by a specious fallacy, nobi-
lity did not take its usual appellations) were admitted into
the councils of the nation. The names of the leading fa-
milies were inscribed in a register, which was well entitled
the “Golden Book;" and he who enjoyed the envied dis-
tinction of having an ancestor thus enrolled could, with
a few exceptions (such as that named in the case of Don
Camillo), present himself in the senate, and lay claim to
the honours of the “Horned Bonnet." Neither our limits,
nor our object will permit a digression of sufficient length to
point out the whole of the leading features of a system so
vicious, and which was, perhaps, only rendered tolerable to
those it governed, by the extraneous contributions of cap-
tured and subsidiary provinces, on which, in truth, as in all
cases of metropolitan rule, the oppression weighed most
grievously. The reader will at once see, that the very
reason why the despotism of the self-styled republic was
tolerable to ils own citizens, was but another cause of its
eventual destruction.
As the senate became too numerous to conduct, with
sufficient secrecy and despatch, the affairs of a state that
pursued a policy alike tortuous and complicated, the more
general of its important interests were entrusted to a coun-
cil composed of three hundred of its members. In order
to avoid the publicity and delay of a body large even as
this, a second selection was made, which was known as
the Council of Ten, and to which much of the executive
power, that aristocratical jealousy withheld from the titu-


THE BRAVO.
163
lar chief of the state, was confided. To this point the po-
litical economy of the Venetian republic, however faulty,
had at least some merit for simplicity and frankness. The
ostensible agents of the administration were known, and
though all real responsibility to the nation was lost, in the
superior influence and narrow policy of the patricians, the
rulers could not entirely escape from the odium that pub-
lic opinion might attach to their unjust or illegal proceed-
ings. But a state, whose prosperity was chiefly founded
on the contribution and support of dependants, and whose
existence was equally menaced by its own false principles,
and by the growth of other and neighbouring powers,
had need of a still more efficient body, in the absence
of that executive which its own republican pretensions
denied to Venice. A political inquisition, which came
in time to be one of the most fearful engines of po-
lice ever known, was the consequence. An authority,
as irresponsible as it was absolute, was periodically con-
fided to another and still smaller body, which met and
exercised its despotic and secret functions, under the name
of the Council of Three. The choice of these temporary
rulers was decided by lot, and in a manner that prevented
the result from being known to any but to their own num-
ber, and to a few of the most confidential of the more per-
manent officers of the government. Thus there existed,
at all times, in the heart of Venice, a mysterious and des-
potic power, that was wielded by men who moved in so-
ciety unknown, and apparently surrounded by all the ordi-
nary charities of life; but which, in truth, was influenced
by a set of political maxims, that were perhaps as ruthless,
as tyrannic, and as selfish as ever were invented by the
evil ingenuity of man. It was, in short, a power that
could only be entrusted, without abuse, to infallible virtue
and infinite intelligence, using the terms in a sense limited
by human means; and yet it was here confided to men,
11 *


164
THE BRAVO.
whose title was founded on the double accident, of birth
and the colours of balls, and by whom it was wielded,
without even the check of publicity.
The Council of Three met in secret, ordinarily issued
its decrees without communicating with any other body,
and had them enforced with a fearfulness of mystery, and
a suddenness of execution, that resembled the blows of
fate. The doge himself was not superior to its authority,
nor protected from its decisions, while it has been known
that one of the privileged three has been denounced by his
companions. There is still in existence a long list of the state
maxims which this secret tribunal recognised as its rule of
conduct, and it is not saying too much to affirm, that they
set at defiance every other consideration but expediency,-
all the recognised laws of God, and every principle of jus-
tice which is esteemed among men.
The advances of the
human intellect, supported by the means of publicity, may
temper the exercise of a similar irresponsible power, in
our own age, but in no country has this substitution, of a
soulless corporation for an elective representation, been
made, in which a system of rule has not been established,
that sets at nought the laws of natural justice and the rights
of the citizen. Any pretension to the contrary, by placing
profession in opposition to practice, is only adding hypo-
crisy to usurpation.
It appears to be an unavoidable general consequence that
abuses should follow, when power is exercised by a perma-
nent and irresponsible body, from whom there is no appeal.
When this power is secretly exercised, the abuses become
still more grave. It is also worthy of remark, that in the
nations which submit, or have submitted to these undue and
dangerous influences, the pretensions to justice and gene-
rosity are of the most exaggerated character; for while the
fearless democrat vents his personal complaints aloud, and
the voice of the subject of professed despotism is smothered


THE BRAVO.
165
entirely, necessity itself dictates to the oligarchist the policy
of seemliness, as one of the conditions of his own safety.
Thus Venice prided herself on the justice of St. Mark, and
few states maintained a greater show, or put forth a more
lofty claim to the possession of the sacred quality, than that
whose real maxims of government were veiled in a mystery
that even the loose morality of the age exacted.
CHAPTER XII.
A power that if but named
In casual converse, be it where it might,
The speaker lower'd, at once,
his voice, his eyes,
And pointed upward, as at God in heaven.
ROGERS.
The reader has probably anticipated, that Antonio was
now standing in an ante-chamber of the secret and stern
tribunal, described in the preceding chapter. In common
with all of his class, the fisherman had a vague idea of the
existence, and of the attributes of the council before which
he was to appear: but his simple apprehension was far from
comprehending the extent, or the nature of functions that
equally took cognizance of the most important interests of
the republic, and of the more trifling concerns of a patri-
cian family. While conjectures on the probable result of the
expected interview were passing through his mind, an inner
door opened, and an attendant signed for Jacopo to advance.
The deep and imposing silence which instantly succeeded
the entrance of the summoned into the presence of the
Council of Three, gave time for a slight examination of the
apartment and of those it contained. The room was not
large for that country and climate, but rather of a size


166
THE BRAVO.
suited to the closeness of the councils that had place within
its walls. The floor was tessellated with alternate pieces
of black and white marble ; the walls were draped in one
common and sombre dress of black cloth; a single lamp of
dark bronze was suspended over a solitary table in its cen-
tre, which, like every other article of the scanty furniture,
had the same melancholy covering as the walls. In the an-
gles of the room there were projecting closets, which might
have been what they seemed, or merely passages into the
other apartments of the palace. All the doors were con-
cealed from casual observation by the hangings, which gave
one general and chilling aspect of gloom to the whole scene.
On the side of the room opposite to that on which Antonio
stood, three men were seated in curule chairs; but their
masks and the drapery which concealed their forms, pre-
vented all recognition of their persons. One of this power-
ful body wore a robe of crimson, as the representative that
fortune had given to the select council of the doge, and the
others robes of black, being those which had drawn the
lucky, or rather the unlucky balls, in the Council of Ten,
itself a temporary and chance-created body of the senate.
There were one or two subordinates near the table, but
these, as well as the still more humble officials of the place,
were hid from all ordinary knowledge, by disguises similar
to those of the chiefs. Jacopo regarded the scene like one
accustomed to its effect, though with evident reverence
and awe; but the impression on Antonio was too manifest
to be lost. It is probable that the long pause which fol-
lowed his introduction, was intended to produce, and to note
this effect, for keen eyes were intently watching bis counte-
nance during its continuance.
“Thou art called Antonio, of the Lagunes ?” demanded
one of the secretaries near the table, when a sign had been
secretly made from the crimson member of that fearful tri-
bunal, to proceed.


THE BRAVO.
167
papers in
“A poor fisherman, eccellenza, who owes much to
blessed Saint Antonio of the Miraculous Draught.”
6. And thou hast a son who bears thine own name, and
who follows the same pursuit ?”
“ It is the duty of a christian to submit to the will of
God! My boy has been dead twelve years, come the day
when the republic's galleys chased the infidel from Corfu to
Candia. He was slain, noble Signore, with many others of
his calling, in that bloody fight.”
There was a movement of surprise among the clerks, who
whispered together, and appeared to examine the
their hands, with some haste and confusion.
Glances were
sent back at the judges, who sate motionless, wrapped in
the impenetrable mystery of their functions. A secret sign,
however, soon caused the armed attendants of the place to
lead Antonio and his companion from the room.
Here is some inadvertency!” said a stern voice, from
one of the masked Three, so soon as the fall of the foot-
steps of those who retired was no longer audible. “ It is
not seemly that the inquisition of St. Mark should show this
ignorance.”
“It touches merely the family of an obscure fisherman,
illustrious Signore," returned the trembling dependant ;
"and it
may
be that his art would wish to deceive us in
the opening interrogatories.”
Thou art in error," interrupted another of the Three.
“The man is named Antonio Vecchio, and, as he sayeth,
his only child died in the hot affair with the Ottoman. He
of whom there is question, is a grandson, and is still a
boy.
• The noble Signore is right !” returned the clerk.—“In
the hurry of affairs we have misconceived a fact, which the
wisdom of the council has been quick to reclily. St. Mark
is happy in having among his proudest and oldest names,
senators who enter thus familiarly into the interests of his
meanest children !"
66


168
THE BRAVO.
N
31
27
“Let the man be again introduced,” resumed the judge,
slightly bending his head to the compliment. “These ac-
cidents are unavoidable in the press of affairs.”
The necessary order was given, and Antonio, 'with his
companion constantly at his elbow, was brought once more
into the presence.
Thy son died in the service of the republic, Antonio ?”
demanded the secretary.
Signore, he did. Holy Maria have pity on his early
fate, and listen to my prayers ! So good a child, and so
brave a man can have no great need of masses for his soul,
or his death would have been doubly grievous to me, since
I am too poor to buy them.”
“Thou hast a grandson ?”
“I had one, noble senator; I hope he still lives."
“He is not with thee in thy labours on the Lagunes ?”
“ San Teodoro grant that he were ! he is taken, Signore,
with many more of tender years, into the galleys, whence
may our Lady give him a safe deliverance ! If your eccel-
lenza has an opportunity to speak with the general of the
galleys, or with any other who may have authority in such
a matter, on my knees. I pray you to speak in behalf of
the child, who is a good and pious lad, that seldom casts a
line into the water, without an ave or a prayer to St. An-
thony, and who has never given me uneasiness until he
fell into the gripe of St. Mark.”
« Rise !—This is not the affair in which I have to question
thee. Thou hast this day spoken of thy prayer to our
most illustrious prince, the doge ?”
“I have prayed his highness to give the boy liberty."
“ And this thou hast done openly, and with little defe-
rence to the high dignity and sacred character of the chief
of the republic ?”
“ I did it like a father and a man. If but half what they
of the justice and kindness of the state were true, his
highness would have heard me as a father and a man.
6
say


THE BRAVO.
169
A slight movement among the fearful Three, caused the
secretary to pause; when he saw, however, that his supe-
riors chose to maintain their silence, he continued
“ This didst thou once in public and among the senators,
but when repulsed, as urging a petition both out of place
and out of reason, thou soughtest other means to prefer thy
request?"
“True, illustrious Signore."
“Thou camest among the gondoliers of the regatta in
an unseemly garb, and placed thyself foremost with those
who contended for the favour of the senate and its prince?"
“I came in the garb which I wear before the Virgin and
St. Antonio, and if I was foremost in the race, it was more
owing to the goodness and favour of the man at my side,
than any virtue which is still left in these withered sinews
and dried bones. San Marco remember him in his need,
for the kind wish, and soften the hearts of the great to hear
the prayer of a childless parent !"
There was another slight expression of surprise, or cu-
riosity, among the inquisitors, and once more the secretary
suspended his examination.
“Thou hearest, Jacopo,” said one of the Three.
“What answer dost thou make the fisherman ?”
Signore, he speaketh truth."
* And thou hast dared to trifle with the pleasures of the
city, and to set at nought the wishes of the doge!"
“If it be a crime, illustrious senator, to have pitied an
old man who mourned for his offspring, and to have given
up my own solitary triumph to his love for the boy, I am
guilty.”
There was a long and silent pause after this reply.
Jacopo had spoken with habitual reverence, but with the
grave composure that appeared to enter deeply into the
composition of his character. The paleness of the cheek
was the same, and the glowing eye, which so singularly


170
THE BRAVO.
lighted and animated a countenance that possessed a hue
not unlike that of death, scarce varied its gaze, while he
answered. A secret sign caused the secretary to proceed
with his duty.
“And thou owest thy success in the regatta, Antonio,
to the favour of thy competitor-he who is now with thee,
in the presence of the council ?”
“Under San Teodoro and St. Antonio, the city's patron
and my own.
“And thy whole desire was to urge again thy rejected
petition in bebalf of the
young
sailor?"
Signore, I had no other. What is the vanity of a
triumph among the gondoliers, or the bauble of a mimic
oar and chain, to one of my years and condition ?”
“Thou forgettest that the oar and chain are of gold ?”
“Excellent gentlemen, gold cannot heal the wounds
which misery has left on a heavy heart. Give me back
the child, that my eyes may not be closed by strangers,
and that I may speak good counsel into his young ears,
while there is hope my words may be remembered, and I
care not for all the metals of the Rialto !
Thou mayest
see that I utter no vain vaunt, by this jewel, which I offer
to the nobles, with the reverence due to their greatness
and wisdom."
When the fisherman had done speaking, he advanced,
with the timid step of a man unaccustomed to move in
superior presences, and laid upon the 'dark cloth of the
table a ring that sparkled with, what at least seemed to be,
very precious stones. The astonished secretary raised the
jewel, and held it in suspense before the eyes of the
judges.
** How is this?” exclaimed he of the Three, who had
oftenest interfered in the examination; "that seemeth the
pledge of our nuptials !"
“ It is no other, illustrious senator : with this ring did the


THE BRAVO.
171
27
doge wed the Adriatic, in the presence of the ambassadors
and the people."
“ Hadst thou aught to do with this, also, Jacopo ?”
sternly demanded the judge.
The Bravo turned his eye on the jewel with a look of
interest, but his voice maintained its usual depth and
steadiness as he answered.
“Signore, no-until now, I knew not the fortune of the
fisherman.'
A sign to the secretary caused him to resume his ques-
tions.
“Thou must account, and clearly account, Antonio,"
he said, “ for the manner in which this sacred ring came
into thy possession; hadst thou any one to aid thee in ob-
taining it?"
“Signore, I had.”
“ Name him, at once, that we may take measures for his
security.”
so 'Twill be useless, Signore; he is far above the power
of Venice.”
“What meanest thou, fellow? None are superior to
the right and the force of the republic that dwell within
her limits. Answer without evasion, as thou valuest thy
person.
“I should prize that which is of little value, Signore, and
be guilty of a great folly, as well as of a great sin, were I to
deceive
you, to save a body old and worthless as mine from
stripes. If your excellencies are willing to hear, you will
find that I am no less willing to tell the manner in which
I got the ring.'
Speak, then, and trifle not.”
“I know not, Signori, whether you are used to hearing
untruths, that you caution me so much not to deal with
them; but we of the Lagunes are not afraid to say what we
have seen and done, for most of our business is with the
99


172
THE BRAVO.
winds and waves, which take their orders from God him-
self. There is a tradition, Signori, among us fishermen,
that in times past, one of our body brought up from the
bay the ring with wbich the doge is accustomed to marry
the Adriatic. A jewel of that value was of little use to one
who cast his nets daily for bread and oil, and he brought
it to the doge, as became a fisherman, into whose hands
the saints had thrown a prize to which he had no tille, as
it were to prove his honesty. This act of our companion
is much spoken of on the Lagunes and at the Lido; and it
is said there is a noble painting done by some of our Vene-
tian masters, in the halls of the palace, which tells the story
as it happened ; showing the prince on his throne, and the
lucky fisherman with his naked legs, rendering back to his
highness that which had been lost. I hope there is foun-
dation for this belief, Signori, which greatly flatters our
pride, and is not without use in keeping some among us
truer to the right, and better favoured in the eyes of St.
Anthony, than might otherwise be.”
• The fact was so.”
“And the painting, excellent Signore ? I hope our vanity
has not deceived us concerning the picture, neither ?”
“The picture you mention is to be seen within the pa-
lace.”
• Corpo di Bacco! I have had my misgivings on that
point, for it is not common that the rich and the happy
should take such note of what the humble and the poor
have done. Is the work from the hands of the great Ti-
ziano himself, eccellenza ?”
“It is not; one of little name hath put his pencil to the
canvass.
“They say that Tiziano had the art of giving to his
works the look and richness of flesh, and one would think
that a just man might find, in the honesty of the poor
fish-
erman, a colour bright enough to have satisfied even his
7


THE BRAVO.
173
eye. But it may be that the senate saw danger in thus
flattering us of the Lagunes.”
• Proceed with the account of thine own fortune with
the ring.”
“Illustrious nobles, I have often dreamed of the luck of
my fellow of the old times; and more than once have I
drawn the nets with an eager hand in my sleep, thinking to
find that very jewel entangled in its meshes, or embowel-
led by some fish. What I have so often fancied has at last
happened. I am an old man, Signori, and there are few
pools or banks between Fusina and Giorgio, that my lines
or my nets have not fathomed or covered. The spot to
which the Bucentoro is wont to steer in these ceremonies
is well known to me, and I had a care to cover the bottom
round about with all my nets, in the hope of drawing up
the ring. When his highness cast the jewel, I dropped a
buoy to mark the spot-Signori, this is all-my accomplice
was St. Anthony.
“For doing this you had a motive ?”
· Holy Mother of God! Was it 'not sufficient to get back
my boy from the gripe of the galleys ?” exclaimed Antonio,
with an energy and a simplicity that are often found to be
in the same character. * I thought that if the doge and
the senate were willing to cause pictures to be painted,
and honours to be given to one poor fisherman for the ring,
they might be glad to reward another, by releasing a lad
who can be of no great service to the republic; but who is
all to his parent."
Thy petition to his highness, thy strife in the regatta,
and thy search for the ring, had the same object ?”
“ To me, Signore, life has but one.”
There was a slight but suppressed movement among the
council.
“ When thy request was refused by his highness as ill-
timed-
2


174
THE BRAVO.
1
>>
“Ah! eccellenza, when one has a white head and a fail-
ing arm, he cannot stop to look for the proper moment in
such a cause !” interrupted the fisherman, with a gleam
of that impetuosity which forms the true base of Italian
character.
“When thy request was denied, and thou hadst refused
the reward of the viclor, thou wentest among thy fellows and
fed their ears with complaints of the injustice of St. Mark,
and of the senate's tyranny?”
“Signore, no. I went away sad and heart-broken, for
I had not thought the doge and nobles would have refused
a successful gondolier so light a boon."
- And this thou didst not hesitate to proclaim among the
fishermen and idlers of the Lido ?”
Eccellenza, it was not needed-my fellows knew my
unhappiness, and tongues were not wanting to tell the
worst.
“ There was a tumult, with thee at its head, and sedition
was uttered, with much vain-boasting of what the fleet of
the Lagunes could perform against the fleet of the re-
public.
“There is little difference, Signore, between the two,
except that the men of the one go in gondolas with nets,
and the men of the other are in the galleys of the state.
Why should brothers seek each other's blood ?"
The movement among the judges was more manifest
than ever. They whispered together, and a paper contain-
ing a few lines written rapidly in pencil, was put into the
hands of the examining secretary.
“ Thou didst address thy fellows, and spoke openly of
thy fancied wrongs; thou didst comment on the laws which
require the services of the citizens, when the republic is
compelled to send forth a fleet against its enemies.”
“ It is not easy to be silent, Signore, when the heart is
full."
27


THE BRAVO.
175
1
>
“And there was consultation among you of coming to
the palace in a body, and of asking the discharge of thy
grandson from the doge, in the name of the rabble of the
Lido."
Signore, there were some generous enough to make
the offer, but others were of advice it would be well to re-
flect before they took so bold a measure.
“And thou—what was thine own counsel on that point ?”
“ Eccellenza, I am old, and though unused to be thus
questioned by illustrious senators, I had seen enough of the
manner in which St. Mark governs, to believe a few un-
armed fishermen and gondoliers would not be listened to
with”
“Ha! Did the gondoliers become of thy party ? I should
have believed them jealous, and displeased with the triumph
of one who was not of their body."
“A gondolier is a man, and though they had the feelings
of human nature on being beaten, they had also the
feelings of human nature when they heard that a father
was robbed of his son.-Signore,” continued Antonio, with
great earnestness and a singular simplicity, “ there will be
great discontent on the canals, if the galleys sail with the
boy aboard them !"
“Such is thy opinion;-were the gondoliers on the Lido
numerous ?”
“ When the sports ended, eccellenza, they came over
by hundreds, and I will do the generous fellows the justice
to say, that they had forgotten their want of luck in the
love of justice. Diamine ! these gondoliers are not so bad
a class as some pretend, but they are men like ourselves,
and can feel for a christian as well as another !"
The secretary paused, for his task was done; and deep
silence pervaded the 'gloomy apartment. After a short
pause one of the three resumed-
“ Antonio Vecchio,” he said, “thou hast served thyself


176
THE BRAVO.
in these said galleys, to which thou now seemest so averse
---and served bravely, as I learn?”.
Signore, I have done my duty by St. Mark. I played
my part against the infidel, but it was after my beard was
grown, and at an age when I had learnt to know good
from evil. There is no duty more cheerfully performed
by us all, than to defend the islands and the Lagunes against
the enemy.
“ And all the republic's dominions. - Thou canst make
no distinctions between any of the rights of the state.
“ There is a wisdom granted to the great, which God
hath denied the poor and the weak, Signore. To me it
does not seem clear that Venice, a city built on a few
islands, bath any more right to carry her rule into Crete
or Gandia, than the Turk hath to come here."
“ How! Dost thou dare, on the Lido, to question the
claim of the republic to her conquests ! or do the irreverent
fishermen dare thus to speak lightly of her glory.!"
“ Eccellenza, I know little of rights that come by vio-
lence. God hath given us the Lagunes, but I know not
that he has given us more. This glory of which you speak
may sit lightly on the shoulders of a senator, but it weighs
heavily on a fisherman's heart.”
“ Thou speakest, bold man, of that which thou dost not
comprehend.”
“ It is unfortunate, Signore, that the power to under-
stand hath not been given to those who have so much
22
power to suffer.'
An anxious pause succeeded this reply.
Thou mayest withdraw, Antonio,” said he, who ap-
parently presided in the dread councils of the Three.
“ Thou wilt not speak of what has happened, and thou
wilt await the inevitable justice of St. Mark, in full con-
fidence of its execution.”
“ Thanks, illustrious senator; I will obey your excel-


THE BRAVO.
177
lency; but my heart is full and I would fain say a few
words concerning the child, before I quit this noble com-
pany."
??
66
“ Thou mayest speak—and here thou mayest give free
vent to all thy wishes, or to all thy griefs, if any thou hast.
St. Mark has no greater pleasure than to listen to the
wishes of his children.”
“ I believe they have reviled the republic in calling its
chiefs heartless, and sold to ambition !" said the old man,
with generous warmth, disregarding the stern rebuke which
gleamed in the eye of Jacopo. oo A senator is but a man,
and there are fathers and children among them, as among
us of the Lagunes.”
• Speak, but refrain from seditious or discreditable
discourse," uttered a secretary, in a half whisper. “Pro-
ceed.”
“I have little now to offer, Signori; I am not used to boast
of my services to the state, excellent gentlemen, but there is a
time when human modesty must give way to human nature.
These scars were got in one of the proudest days of St.
Mark, and in the foremost of all the galleys that fought
among the Greek islands. The father of my boy wept
over me then, as I have since wept over his own son-yes
- I might be ashamed to own it among men; but if the
truth must be spoken, the loss of the boy has drawn bitter
tears from me in the darkness of night, and in the solitude
of the Lagunes. I lay many weeks, Signori, less a man
than a corpse, and when I got back again to my nets and
my toil, I did not withhold my son from the call of the re-
public. He went in my place to meet the infidel, a service
from which he never came back. This was the duty of
men who had grown in experience, and who were not to
be deluded into wickedness by the evil company of the
galleys. But this calling of children into the snares of
the devil grieves a father, and I will own the weakness,
12


178
THE BRAVO.
if such it be I am not of a courage and pride to send
forth my own flesh and blood into the danger and corrup-
tion of war and evil society, as in days when the stoutness
of the heart was like the stoutness of the limbs. Give me
back, then, my boy, till he has seen my old head laid be-
neath the sands, and until, by the aid of blessed St. An-
thony, and such councils as a poor man can offer, I may
give him more steadiness in his love of the right, and until
I may have so shaped bis life, that he will not be driven
about by every pleasant or treacherous wind that may hap-
pen to blow upon his bark. Signori, you are rich, and
powerful, and honoured, and though you may be placed
in the way of temptations to do wrongs that are suited to
your high names and illustrious fortunes, ye know little of the
trials of the poor. What are the temptations of the blessed
St. Anthony himself, to those of the evil company of the
galleys! And now, Signori, though you may be angry to
hear it, I will say, that when an aged man has no other
kin on earth, or none so near as to feel the glow of the
thin blood of the poor, than one poor boy, St. Mark would
do well to remember that even a fisherman of the Lagunes
can feel as well as the doge on his throne.. This much I
say, illustrious senators, in sorrow, and not in anger; for
I would get back the child, and die in peace
with
my su-
periors, as with my equals."
“Thou mayest depart,” said one of the Three.
“Not yet, Signori, I have still more to say, of the men
of the Lagunes, who speak with loud voices, concerning
this dragging of boys into the service of the galleys."
“We will hear their opinions."
Noble gentlemen, if I were to utter all they have said,
word for word, I might do some disfavour to your ears !
Man is man, though the Virgin and the saints listen to his
aves and prayers from beneath a jacket of serge and a
fisherman's cap.
But I know too well my duty to the


THE BRAVO.
179
senate to speak so plainly. But, Signori, they say, saving
the bluntness of their language, that St. Mark should have
ears for the meanest of his people as well as for the richest
noble; and that not a hair should fall from the head of a
fisherman, without its being counted as if it were a lock
from beneath the horned bonnet; and that where God hath
not made marks of his displeasure, man should not.
“ Do they dare to reason thus ?”
“I know not if it be reason, illustrious Signori, but it is
what they say, and, eccelenza, it is hoły truth. We are
poor workmen of the Lagunes, who rise with the day to
cast our nets, and return at night to hard beds and harder
fare; but with this we might be content, did the senate
count us as christians and men. That God hath not given
10 all the same chances in life, I well know, for it often
happens that I draw an empty net, when my comrades áre
groaning with the weight of their draughts; but this is done
to punish my sins, or to humble my heart, whereas it
exceeds the power of man to look into the secrets of the
soul, or to foretel the evil of the still innocent child. Bles-
sed St. Anthony knows how many years of suffering this
visit to the galleys may cause to the child in the end. Think
of these things, I pray you, Signori, and send men of tried
principles to the wars.'
“Thou mayst retire,” rejoined the judge.
“I should be sorry that any who cometh of my blood,"
continued the inattentive Antonio, “should be the cause
of ill-will between them that rule and them that are born
to obey. But nature is stronger even than the law, and I
should discredit her feelings were I to go without speaking
as becomes a father. Ye have taken my child and sent
him to serve the state at the hazard of body and soul,
without giving opportunity for a parting kiss, or a parting
blessing--ye have used my flesh and blood as ye would
12*


180
THE BRAVO.
the sea
1
"
II
W
use the wood of the arsenal, and sent it forth
upon
as if it were the insensible metal of the balls ye throw
against the infidel. Ye have shut your ears to my prayers,
as if they were words uttered by the wicked; and when I
have exhorted you on my knees, wearied my stiffened limbs
to do ye pleasure, rendered ye the jewel which St. An-
thony gave to my net, that it might soften your hearts, and
reasoned with you calmly on the nature of your acts, you
turn from me coldly, as if I were unfit to stand forth in
defence of the offspring that God hath left my age! This
is not the boasted justice of St. Mark, Venetian senators,
but bardness of heart and a wasting of the means of the
poor, that would ill become the most grasping Hebrew of
the Rialto !"
“Hast thou aught more to urge, Antonio ?” asked the
judge, with the wily design of unmasking the fisherman's
entire soul.
“Is it not enough, Signori, that I urge my years, my
poverty, my scars, and my love for the boy ? I know ye
not, but though ye are hid behind the folds of your robes
and masks, still must ye be men. There may be among
ye a father, or perhaps some one wbo hath a still more
sacred charge, the child of a dead son. To him I speak.
In vain ye talk of justice when the weight of your power
falls on them least able to bear it; and though ye may
delude yourselves, the meanest gondolier of the canal
knows-"
He was stopped from uttering more by his companion,
who rudely placed a hand on his mouth.
Why hast thou presumed to stop the complaints of
Antonio ?” sternly demanded the judge.
It was not decent, illustrious senators, to listen to such
disrespect in so noble a presence," Jacopo answered,
bending reverently as he spoke. "This old fisherman,


THE BRAVO.
181
>>
dread Signori, is warmed by love for bis offspring, and
he will utter that which, in his cooler moments, he will
repent.'
“St. Mark fears not the truth! If he has more to say,
let him declare it."
But the excited Antonio began to reflect. The flush
which had ascended to his weather-beaten cheek disap-
peared, and his naked breast ceased to heave. He stood
like one rebuked, more by his discretion than his conscience,
with a calmer eye, and a face that exhibited the composure
of his years, and the respect of his condition-
“If I have offended, great patricians," he said, more
mildly, “I pray you to forget the zeal of an ignorant old
man, whose feelings are master of his breeding, and who
knows less how to render the truth agreeable to noble ears,
than to utter it."
"Thou mayest depart.”
The armed attendants advanced, and, obedient to a sign
from the secretary, they led Antonio and his companion
through the door by which they had entered. The other
officials of the place followed, and the secret judges were
left by themselves in the chamber of doom.


182
THE BRAVO.
CHAPTER XIII.
“O! the days that we have seen.”
SHELTON.
A pause like that which accompanies self-contemplation,
and perhaps conscious distrust of purpose, succeeded.
Then the Three arose together, and began to lay aside the
instruments of their disguise. When the masks were re-
moved, they exposed the grave visages of men in the de-
cline of life, athwart which worldly cares and worldly pas-
sions had drawn those deep lines, which no subsequent
ease or resignation can erase. During the process of un-
robing neither spoke, for the affair, on which they had just
been employed, caused novel and disagreeable sensations
to them all. When they were delivered from their super-
fluous garments and their masks, however, they drew
near the table, and each sought that relief for his limbs and
person which was natural to the long restraint he had un-
dergone.
“ There are letters from the French king intercepted,"
said one, after time had permitted them to rally their
thoughts ;—" it would appear they treat of the new inten-
tions of the emperor.'
“ Have they been restored to the ambassador ? or are
the originals to go before the senate ?" demanded another.
“On that must we take counsel at our leisure. I have
nought else to communicate, except that the order given
to intercept the messenger of the Holy See hath failed of its
object.”


THE BRAVO.
183
Of this the secretaries advertised me. We must look
into the negligence of the agents, for there is good reason
to believe much useful knowledge would have come from
that seizure.”
“ As the attempt is already known and much spoken of,
care must be had to issue orders for the arrest of the rob-
bers, else may the republic fall into disrepute with its friends.
There are names on our list which might be readily marked
for punishment, for that quarter of our patrimony is never
in want of proscribed, to conceal an accident of this na-
ture.”
“Good heed will be had to this, since, as you say, the
affair is weighty. The government or the individual that
is negligent of reputation, cannot expect long to retain the
respect of its equals.”
"The ambition of the House of Hapsburgh robs me of
my sleep!” exclaimed the other, throwing aside some pa-
pers, over which his eye had glanced, in disgust. “Holy
St. Theodore! what a scourge to the race is the desire to
augment territories and to extend an unjust rule, beyond
the boundaries of reason and nature ! Here have we, in Ve-
nice, been in undisputed possession of provinces that are
adapted to our institutions, convenient to our wants, and
agreeable to our desires, for ages. Provinces that were gal-
lantly won by our ancestors, and which cling to us as ha-
bits linger in our age, and yet are they become objects of
a covetous ambition to our neighbour, under a vain pre-
text of a policy, that I fear is strengthened by our increas-
ing weakness. I sicken, Signori, of my esteem for men,
,
as I dive deeper into their tempers and desires, and often
wish myself a dog, as I study their propensities. In his
appetite for power, is not the Austrian the most rapacious
of all the princes of the earth ?”
“More so, think you, worthy Signore, than the Casti-


184
THE BRAVO.
lian? You overlook the unsatiated desire of the Spanish
king to extend his sway in Italy.”
Hapsburgh or Bourbon ; Turk or Englishman; they
all seem actuated by the same fell appetite for dominion;
and now that Venice hath no more to hope, than to pre-
serve her present advantages, the least of all our enjoyments
becomes a subject of covetous envy to our enemies. These
are passions to weary one of an interference with govern-
ments, and to send him to his cord of penitence and the
cloisters !"
"I never listen to your observations, Signore, without
quitting the chamber an edified man! Truly this desire
in the strangers to trespass on our privileges, and it may
be well said, privileges which have been gained by our trea-
sures and our blood, becomes more manifest, daily. Should
it not be checked, St. Mark will be stripped, in the end, of
even a landing-place for a gondola on the main."
“The leap of the winged lion is much curtailed, ex-
cellent Sir, or these things might not be! It is no longer
in our power to persuade, or to command, as of old; and
our canals begin to be encumbered with slimy weeds, in-
stead of well-freighted argosies, and swift-sailing feluccas.”
The Portuguese hath done us irretrievable harm, for
without his African discoveries, we might yet have retained
the traffic in Indian commodities. I cordially dislike the
mongrel race, being, as it is, half Gothic and half Moor-
ish!”
“I trust not myself to think of their origin or of their
deeds, my friend, lest prejudice should kindle feelings un-
becoming a man and a christian. -How now, Signor Gra-
denigo; thou art thoughtful ?”
The third member of the secret council, who had not
spoken since the disappearance of the accused, and who
was no other than the reader's old acquaintance of the


THE BRAVO,
185
of
9
name just mentioned, slowly lifted his head, from a medi-
tative position, at this address.
“The examination of the fisherman hath recalled scenes
my boyhood," he answered, with a touch of nature,
that seldom found place in that chamber.
“I heard thee say, he was thy foster-brother,” returned
the other, struggling to conceal a gape.
“We drank of the same milk, and, for the first years
of
life, we sported at the same games.
“These imaginary kindred often give great uneasiness.
I am glad your trouble hath no other source, for I had
heard that the young heir of your house hath shown a pro-
digal disposition of late, and I feared that matter might
have come to your knowledge as one of the council, that a
father might not wish to learn."
The selfish features of the Signor Gradenigo instantly
underwent a change. He glanced curiously, and with a
strong distrust, but in a covert manner, at the fallen eyes
of his two companions, anxious to penetrate their secret
thoughts ere he ventured to expose his own.
“Is there aught of complaint against the youth ?” he de-
manded, in a voice of hesitation. You understand a
father's interest, and will not conceal the truth.”
“Signore, you know that the agents of the police are
active, and little that comes to their knowledge fails to
reach the ears of the council. But, at the worst, the
matter is not of life or death. It can only cost the incon-
siderate young man a visit to Dalmatia, or an order to waste
the summer at the foot of the Alps.”
“Youth is the season of indiscretion, as ye know, Signori,”
returned the father, breathing more freely, “and as none
become old that have not been young, I have little need to
awaken your recollection of its weaknesses.
son is incapable of designing aught against the republic ?”
“Of that he is not suspected.” A slight expression of
92
I trust my


186
THE BRAVO.
*
9
irony crossed the features of the old senator, as he spoke.
“But he is represented as aiming too freely at the person
and wealth of your ward; and that she, who is the especial
care of St. Mark, is not to be solicited without the consent
of the senate, is a usage well known to one of its most
ancient and most honourable members."
“Such is the law, and none coming of me shall show it
disrespect. I have preferred my claims to that connection,
openly, but with diffidence, and I await the decision of the
state, in respectful confidence."
His associates bowed in courteous acknowledgment of
the justice of what he said, and of the loyalty of his con-
duct, but it was in the manner of men too long accustomed
to duplicity, to be easily duped.
“ None doubt it, worthy Signor Gradenigo, for thy faith
to the state is ever quoted as a model for the young, and
as a subject for the approbation of the more experienced.
Hast thou any communications to make on the interests of
the young heiress, thyself?”
“ I am pained to say, that the deep obligation conferred
by Don Camillo Monforte, seems to have wrought upon her
youthful imagination, and I apprehend that, in disposing
of my ward, the state will have to contend with the caprice
of a female mind. The waywardness of that age will give
more trouble, than the conduct of far graver matters."
Is the lady attended by suitable companions, in her
daily life ?”
“ Her companions are known to the senate. In so grave
an interest, I would not act without their authority and
sanction. But the affair hath great need of delicacy in its
government. The circumstance, that so much of my ward's
fortune lies in the states of the Church, renders it necessary
to await the proper moment for disposing of her rights,
and of transferring their substance within the limits of the
republic, before we proceed to any act of decision. Once
1


THE BRAVO.
187
assured of her wealth, she may be disposed of, as seemeth
best to the welfare of the state, without further delay.”
“ The lady hath a lineage and riches, and an excellence
of person, that might render her of great account in some
of these knotty negotiations, which so much fetter our
movements of late. The time hath been, when a daughter of
Venice, not more fair, was wooed to the bed of a sovereign.
Signore, those days of glory and greatness exist no
longer. Should it be thought expedient to overlook the
natural claims of my son, and to bestow my ward to the
advantage of the republic, the most that can be expected
through her means, is a favourable concession in some future
treaty, or a new prop to some of the many decaying in-
terests of the city. In this particular, she may be rendered
of as much, or even of more use, than the oldest and wisest
of our body. But that her will may be free, and the child
may have no obstacles to her happiness, it will be necessary
to make a speedy determination of the claim preferred by
Don Camillo. Can we do better than to recommend a
compromise, that he may return without delay to his own
Calabria 329
“ The concern is weighty, and it demands deliberation."
“ He complains of our tardiness already, and not without
show of reason. It is five years since the claim was first
preferred.'
Signor Gradenigo, it is for the vigorous and healthful to
display their activity, the aged and the tottering must move
with caution. Were we, in Venice, to betray precipitation
in so weighty a concern, without seeing an immediate in-
terest in the judgment, we should trifle with a gale of for-
tune that every sirocco will not blow into the canals. We
must have terms with the lord of Sant' Agata, or we greatly
slight our own advantage.
“ I hinted of the matter to your excellencies, as a con
72


188
THE BRAVO,
sideration for your wisdom; methinks it will be something
gained to remove one so dangerous, from the recollection,
and from before the eyes, of a love-sick maiden."
66. Is the damsel so amorous ?”
“She is of Italy, Signore, and our sun bestows warm
fancies and fervent minds."
“ Let her to the confessional and her prayers! The
godly prior of St. Mark will discipline her imagination, till
she shall conceit the Neapolitan a Moor and an Ioſidel.
Just San Teodoro, forgive me! But thou canst remember
the time, my friends, when the penance of the church was
not without service, on thine own fickle tastes and truant
practices.'
“ The Signor Gradenigo was a gallant in his time,” ob-
served the third, “ as all well know who travelled in his com-
pany. Thou wert much spoken of at Versailles and at
Vienna,--nay, thou canst not deny thy vogue to one, who,
if he hath no other merit, hath a memory.”
“I protest against these false recollections,” rejoined
tbe accused, a withered smile lighting his faded counte-
nance; "we have been young Signori; but among us all, I
never knew a Venetian of more general fashion and of
better report, especially with the dames of France, than he
who has just spoken.
“ Account it not-account it not-'twas the weakness of
youth and the use of the times !I remember to have seen
thee, Enrico, at Madrid, and a gayer or more accomplished
gentleman was not known at the Spanish court."
Thy friendship blinded thee—I was a boy and full of
spirits; no more, I may assure thee. Didst hear of my af-
fair with the mousquetaire, when at Paris.”
“Did I hear of the general war?-Thou art too modest
to raise this doubt of a meeting that occupied the coteries
for a month, as it had been a victory of the powers !
92


190
THE BRAVO.
of gaiety from country to country, till it numbered ten
courts at which it appeared in as many weeks ?”
• Was I not its mover? What a memory art thou get-
ting! 'Twas for a hundred golden louis, and it was brarely
won by an hour. A postponement of the reception by the
elector of Bavaria went near to defeat us, but we bribed
the groom of the chambers, as thou mayest remember,
and got into the presence as it were by accident.
- Was that held to be sufficient?"
" That was it, for our terms mentioned the condition of
holding discourse with ten sovereigns, in as many weeks,
in their own palaces. Oh! it was fairly won; and I believe
I may say that it was as gaily expended !”
“ For the latter will I vouch, since I never quitted thee
while a piece of it all remained. There are divers means of
dispensing gold in those northern capitals, and the task was
quickly accomplished. They are pleasant countries for a
few years of youth and idleness !"
“ It is a pity that their climates are so rude."
A slight and general sbudder expressed their Italian sym-
pathy, but the discourse did not the less proceed.
“ They might have a better sun, and a clearer sky, but
there is excellent cheer, and no want of hospitality,” ob-
served the Signor Gradenigo, who maintained his full share
of the dialogue, though we have not found it necessary to
separate sentiments that were so common among the dif-
ferent speakers. “I have seen pleasant hours even with
the Genoese, though their town hath a cast of reflection
and sobriety, that is not always suited to the dispositions
of youth.”
Nay, Stockholm and Copenhagen have their pleasures
too, I do assure thee. I passed a season between them.
Your Dane is a good joker and a hearty bottle companion.”
“ In that the Englishman surpasseth all! If I were to
relate their powers of living in this manner, dear friends,


THE BRAVO.
191
ye
would discredit me. That which I have seen often,
seemeth impossible even to myself. 'Tis a gloomy abode,
and one that we of Italy little like, in common.
“Name it not in comparison with Holland—wert ever in
Holland, friends ?- didst ever enjoy the fashion of Am-
sterdam and the Hague! I remember to have heard a
young Roman urge a friend to pass a winter there; for the
witty rogue termed it, the beau ideal of the land of pel-
ticoats !”
The three old Italians, in whom this sally excited a mul-
titude of absurd recollections and pleasant fancies, broko
out into a general and hearty fit of laughter. The sound
of their cracked merriment, echoing in that gloomy and
solemn room, suddenly recalled them to the recollection
of their duties. Each listened an instant, as if in expecta-
tion that some extraordinary consequence was to follow so
extraordinary an interruption of the usual silence of the
place, like a child whose truant propensities were about to
draw detection on his offence,--and then the principal of
the council furtively wiped the tears from his eyes, and
resumed his gravity.
Signori,” he said, fumbling in a bundle of papers, “we
must take up the matter of the fisherman-but we will
first inquire into the circumstance of the signet left, the
pasl night, in the Lion's mouth. Signor Gradenigo, you
were charged with the examination.
“ The duty hath been executed, noble Sirs, and with a
success I had not hoped to meet with. Haste, at our last
meeting, prevented a perusal of the paper to which it was
attached, but it will now be seen that the two have a con-
nection. Here is an accusation which charges Don Camillo
Monforte with a design to bear away, beyond the power of
the senate, the Donna Violetta, my ward, in order to pos-
sess her person and riches. It speaketh of proofs in posses-
sion of the accuser, as if he were an agent entrusted by the


192
THE BRAVO.
Neapolitan. As a pledge of his truth, I suppose, for there
is no mention made of any other use, he sends the signet of
Don Camillo himself, which cannot have been obtained
without that noble's confidence.”
“Is it certain that he owns the ring ?”
“Of that am I well assured. You know I am especially
charged with conducting his personal demand with the
senate, and frequent interviews have given me opportunity
to note that he was wont to wear a signet, which is now
wanting. My jeweller of the Rialto hath sufficiently iden-
tified this, as the missing ring."
“ Thus far it is clear, though there is an obscurity in the
circumstance that the signet of the accused should be found
with the accusation, which, being unexplained, renders the
charge vague and uncertain. Have you any clue to the
writing, or any means of knowing whence it comes?"
There was a small but nearly imperceptible red spot on
the cheek of the Signor Gradenigo, that did not escape the
keen distrust of his companions, but he concealed his alarm,
answering distinctly that he had none.
“We must then defer a decision for further proof. The
justice of St. Mark hath been too much vaunted to endan-
ger its reputation by a hasty decree, in a question which
so closely touches the interest of a powerful noble of Italy.
Don Camillo Monforte hath a name of distinction, and
counteth too many of note among his kindred, to be dealt
with as we might dispose of a gondolier, or the messenger
of some foreign state."
“ As respects him, Signore, you are undoubtedly right.
But may we not endanger our heiress by too much tender-
ness ?"
22
“ There are many convents in Venice, Signore.
• The monastic life is ill suited to the temper of my
ward,” the Signor Gradenigo drily observed, “ and I fear
to hazard the experiment; gold is a key to unlock the strongest


THE BRAVO.
193
cell; besides, we cannot with due observance of propriety
place a child of the state in durance.”
Signor Gradenigo, we have had this matter under long
and grave consideration, and agreeably to our laws, when
one of our number hath a palpable interest in the affair, we
have taken council of his highness, who is of accord with
us in sentiment. Your personal interest in the lady might
have warped your usually excellent judgment; else, be as-
sured, we should have summoned you to the conference.”
The old senator, who thus unexpectedly found himself
excluded from consultation, on the very matter that, of all
others, made him most value his temporary authority, stood
abashed and silent-reading in his countenance, however, a
desire to know more, his associates proceeded to communi-
cate all it was their intention he should hear.
“It hath been determined to remove the lady to a suita-
ble retirement, and for this purpose care hath been already
had to provide the means. Thou wilt be temporarily re-
lieved of a most grievous charge, which cannot but have
worked heavily on thy spirits, and, in other particulars, have
lessened thy much-valued usefulness to the republic.”
This unexpected communication was made with marked
courtesy of manner; but with an emphasis and tone, that
sufficiently acquainted the Signor Gradenigo with the na-
ture of the suspicions that beset him. He bad too long been
familiar with the sinuous policy of the council, in which, at
intervals, he had so often sat, not to understand that he
would run the risk of a more serious accusation were he to
hesitate in acknowledging its justice. Teaching his fea-
tures, therefore, to wear a smile as treacherous as that of his
wily companion, he answered with seeming gratitude-
“ His highness and you, my excellent colleagues, have
taken counsel of your good wishes and kindness of heart,
rather than of the duty of a poor subject of St. Mark, to toil
on in his service while he hath strength and reason for the
2
13


194
THE BRAVO.
task,” he said. “ The management of a capricious female
mind is a concern of no light moment, and while I thank
you
for this consideration of my ease, you will permit me
to express my readiness to resume the charge whenever it
shall please the state again to confer it."
“Of this none are more persuaded than we, nor are any
better satisfied of your ability to discharge the trust faithfully.
But you enter, Signore, into all our motives, and will join
us in the opinion, that it is equally unbecoming the republic,
and one of its most illustrious citizens, to leave a ward of the
former in a position that shall subject the latter to unme-
rited censure. Believe me, we have thought less of Venice
in this matter, than of the honour and the interest of the
house of Gradenigo; for should this Neapolitan thwart our
views, you of us all would be most liable to be disapproved
of.”
“A thousand thanks, excellent Sir," returned the deposed
guardian. “You have taken a load from my mind, and
restored some of the freshness and elasticity of youth! The
claim of Don Camillo now is no longer urgent, since it is
your pleasure to remove the lady, for a season, from the
city.”
'Twere better to hold it in deeper suspense, if it were
only to occupy his mind. Keep up thy.communications,
as of wont, and withhold not hope, which is a powerful
exciter in minds that are not deadened by experience. We
shall not conceal from one of our number, that a negocia-
tion is already near a termination, which will relieve the
state from the care of the damsel, and at some benefit to
the republic. Her estates lying without our limits greatly
facilitate the treaty, which hath only been withheld from
your knowledge, by the consideration, that of late, we
have rather too much overloaded thee with affairs.'
Again the Signor Gradenigo bowed submissively, and
with apparent joy He saw that his secret design had
22


THE BRAVO.
195
been penetrated, notwithstanding all his practised dupli-
city and specious candour, and he submitted with that
species of desperate resignation, which becomes a habit,
if not a virtue, in men long accustomed to be governed des-
potically. When this delicate subject, which required
the utmost finesse of Venetian policy, since it involved the
interests of one who happened, at the moment, to be in
the dreaded council itself, was disposed of, the three turned
their attention to other matters, with that semblance of
indifference to personal feeling, which practice in tortuous
paths of state intrigue enabled men to assume.
“Since we are so happily of opinion, concerning the
disposition of the Donna Violetta,” coolly observed the
oldest senator, a rare speciinen of hacknied and worldly
morality, “we may look into our list of daily duties--what
saith the Lion's mouth to-night?”
"A few of the ordinary and unmeaning accusations that
spring from personal hatred,” returned another.
" One
chargeth his neighbour with oversight in religious duties,
and with some carelessness of the fasts of Holy Church-a
foolish scandal, fitted for the ears of a curate.
"Is there nought else ?”
“Another complaineth of neglect in a husband. The
scrawl is in a woman's hand, and beareth, on its face, the
evidence of a woman's resentment.'
“Sudden to rise and easy to be appeased. Let the
neighbourhood quiet the household by its sneers — What
29
7
next?"
“A suitor in the courts maketh complaint of the tardi-
ness of the judges."
“This toucheth the reputation of St. Mark; it must be
looked to !"
“Hold !” interrupted the Signor Gradenigo. “The tri-
bunal acteth advisedly—'tis in the malter of a Hebrew, who
13 *


196
THE BRAVO.
97
22
is thought to have secrets of importance. The affair hath
need of deliberation, I do assure you."
Destroy the charge.- Have we more ?”
“Nothing of note. The usual number of pleasantries
and hobbling verses which tend to nothing. If we get some
useful gleanings, by these secret accusations, we gain
much nonsense. I would whip a youngster of ten who
could not mould our soft Italian into better rhyme than
this.
so 'Tis the wanlonness of security. Let it pass, for all that
serveth to amuse suppresseth turbulent thoughts. Shall we
now see his highness, Signori ?”
“ You forget the fisherman,” gravely observed the
Signor Gradenigo.
Your honour sayeth true. What a head for business
hath he! Nothing that is useful escapeth his ready mind.”
The old senator, while he was too experienced to be ca-
joled by such language, saw the necessity of appearing flat-
tered. Again he bowed, and protested aloud and frequently
against the justice of compliments that he so little merited.
When this little by-play was over, they proceeded gravely
to consider the matter before them.
As the decision of the Council of Three will be made ap-
parent in the course of the narrative, we shall not continue
to detail the conversation that accompanied their delibera-
tions. The sitting was long, so long indeed that when they
arose, having completed their business, the heavy clock of
the square tolled the hour of midnight.
“ The doge will be impatient," said one of the two
nameless members, as they threw on their cloaks, before
leaving the chamber. "I thought his highness wore a
more fatigued and feeble air to-day, than he is wont to
exhibit at the festivities of the city ?”?
“ His highness is no longer young, Signore. If I re-


THE BRAVO.
197
member right, he greatly outnumbers either of us in years.
Our Lady of Loretto lend him strength long to wear the
ducal bonnet, and wisdom to wear it well !"
He hath lately sent offerings to her shrine."
“Signore, he hath. His confessor hath gone in person
with the offerings, as I know of certainty. 'Tis not a serious
giſt, but a mere remembrance to keep himself in the odour
of sanctity. I doubt that his reign will not be long!”
There are, truly, signs of decay in his system. He
is a worthy prince, and we shall lose a father when called
to weep for his loss !"
“ Most true, Signore; but the horned bonnet is not an
invulnerable shield against the arrows of death. Age and
infirmities are more potent than our wishes."
“Thou art moody to-night, Signor Gradenigo. Thou
art not used to be so silent with thy friends."
"I am not the less grateful, Signere, for their favours.
If I have a loaded countenance, I bear a lightened heart.
One who hath a daughter of his own so happily bestowed
in wedlock as thine, may judge of the relief I feel by this
disposition of my ward. Joy affects the exterior, fre-
quently, like sorrow; aye, even to tears.”
His two companions looked at the speaker with much
obvious sympathy in their manners. They then left the
chamber of doom together. The menials entered and ex-
tinguished the lights, leaving all behind them in an obs
scurity that was no bad type of the gloomy mysteries of
the place.


198
THE BRAVO.
!
CHAPTER XIV.
“ Then, methought,
A serenade broke silence, breathing hope
Through walls of stone."
Italy.
NOTWITHSTANDING the lateness of the hour, the melody
of music was rife on the water. Gondolas continued to
glide along the shadowed canals, while the laugh or the song
was echoed among the arches of the palaces. The piazza
and piazetta were yet brilliant with lights, and gay with
their multitudes of unwearied revellers.
The habitation of Donna Violetta was far from the scene
of general amusement. Though so remote, the hum of
the moving throng, and the higher strains of the wind-
instruments came, from time to time, to the ears of its
inmates, mellowed and thrilling by distance.
The position of the moon cast the whole of the narrow
passage which flowed beneath the windows of her private
apartments into shadow. In a balcony which overhung
the water, stood the youthful and ardent girl, listening
with a charmed ear and a tearful eye to one of those soft
strains, in which Venetian voices answered to each other
from different points on the canals, in the songs of the gon-
doliers. Her constant companion and mentor was near,
while the ghostly father of them both stood deeper in the
room.
“ There may be pleasanter towns on the main, and ca-
pitals of more revelry,” said the charmed Violetta, with-
drawing her person from its leaning attitude, as the voices


THE BRAVO.
199
--
ceased: “ but in such a night and at this witching hour,
what city may compare with Venice ?"
• Providence hath been less partial in the distribution
of its earthly favours than is apparent to a vulgar eye,"
returned the attentive Carmelite. “ If we have our pe-
culiar enjoyments and our moments of divine contempla-
tion, other towns have advantages of their own; Genova
and Pisa, Firenze, Ancona, Roma, Palermo, and, chiefest
of all, Napoli—"
Napoli, father!”
Daughter, Napoli. Of all the towns of sunny Italy,
'tis the fairest and the most blessed in natural gifts. Of
every region I have visited, during a life of wandering and
penitence, that is the country on which the touch of the
Creator hath been the most God-like !"
“ Thou art imaginative to-night, good Father Anselmo.
The land must be fair indeed, that can thus warm the fancy
of a Carmelite.
· The rebuke is just. I have spoken more under the
influence of recollections that came from days of idleness
and levity, than with the chastened spirit of one who should
see the hand of the Maker, in the most simple and least
lovely of all his wondrous works.”
You reproach yourself causelessly, holy father,” ob-
served the mild Donna Florinda, raising her eyes towards
the pale countenance of the monk; “ to admire the beauties
of nature, is to worship Him who gave
them being."
At that moment a burst of music rose on the air, proceed-
ing from the water beneath the balcony. Donna Violetta
started back, abashed, and as she held her breath in won-
der, and haply with that delight which open admiration is
apt to excite in a youthful female bosom, the colour mount-
ed to her temples.
There passeth a band," calmly observed the Donna
Florinda.
1)


200
THE BRAVO.
1
1
“ No, it is a cavalier! There are gondoliers, servitors
in his colours.”
“This is as hardy as it may be gallant;" returned the
monk, who listened to the air with an evident grave dis-
pleasure.
There was no longer any doubt but that a serenade was
meant. Though the custom was of much use, it was the
first time that a similar honour had been paid beneath the
window of Donna Violetta. The studied privacy of her
life, her known destiny, and the jealousy of the despotic
state, and perhaps the deep respect which encircled a
maiden of her tender years and and high condition, had,
until that moment, kept the aspiring, the vain, and the
interested, equally in awe.
“ It is for me!" whispered the trembling, the distressed,
the delighted Violetta.
• It is for one of us, indeed;" answered the cautious
friend.
Be it for whom it may, it is bold,” rejoined the
monk.
Donna Violetta shrunk from observation, behind the
drapery of the window, but she raised a hand in pleasure,
as the rich strains rolled through the wide apartments.
What a taste rules the band !” she half whispered,
afraid to trust her voice, lest a sound should escape her
“ They touch an air of Petrarch's sonnatas! How
indiscreet, and yet how noble !"
"More noble than wise;" said the Donna Florinda, who
entered the balcony, and looked intently on the water be-
neath.
Here are musicians in the colour of a noble in one gon-
dola,” she continued, “ and a single cavalier in another."
Hath he no servitor?-Doth he ply the oar himself ?”
• Truly that decency hath not been overlooked; one in
a flowered jacket guides the boat,”
66
ears.
66


THE BRAVO.
201
"Speak, then, dearest Florinda, I pray thee."
“ Would it be seemly?”
Indeed I think it. Speak them fair. Say that I am
the senate's—That it is not discreet to urge a daughter of
the state thus--Say what thou wilt-but speak them fair."
“Ha! It is Don Camillo Monforte! I know him by his
noble stature and the gallant wave of his hand.”
“ This temerity will undo bim! His claim will be re-
fused-himself banished. Is it not near the hour when the
gondola of the police passes ?
Admonish him to depart,
good Florinda—and yet-can we use this rudeness to a
Signor of his rank?”
“Father, counsel us; you know the hazards of this rash
gallantry in the Neapolitan-aid us with thy wisdom, for
there is not a moment to lose.”
The Carmelite had been an attentive and an indulgent
observer of the emotion, which sensations so novel had
awakened in the ardent but unpractised breast of the fair
Venetian. Pity, sorrow, and sympathy were painted on
his mortified face, as he witnessed the mastery of feeling
over a mind so guileless, and a heart so warm; but the look
was rather that of one who knew the dangers of the pas-
sions, than of one who condemned them, without thought
of their origin or power. At the appeal of the governess
he turned away and silently quitted the room. Donna
Florinda left the balcony and drew near her charge. There
was no explanation, nor any audible or visible means of
making their sentiments known to each other. Violetta
threw herself into the arms of her more experienced friend,
and struggled to conceal her face in her bosom. At this
moment the music suddenly ceased, and the plash of oars,
falling into the water, succeeded.
"He is gone!" exclaimed the young creature, who had
been the object of the serenade, and whose faculties, spite
of her confusion, had lost none of their acuteness.
« The


202
THE BRAVO.
gondolas are moving away, and we have not made even
the customary acknowledgments for their civility !"
“It is not needed—or rather it might increase a hazard
that is already too weighty. Remember thy high destiny,
my child, and let them depart.'
“And yet, methinks one of my station should not fail
in courtesy. The compliment may mean no more than
any other idle usage, and they should not quit us un-
thanked.”
“Rest you within. I will watch the movement of the
boats, for it surpasseth female endurance not to note their
aspect.'
“Thanks, dearest Florinda! hasten, lest they enter the
other canal ere thou seest them."
The governess was quickly in the balcony. Active as
was her movement, her eyes were scarcely cast upon the
shadow beneath, before a hurried question demanded what
she beheld.
“Both gondolas are gone,” was the answer.
6. That
with the musicians is already entering the great canal, but
that of the cavalier hath unaccountably disappeared !”
“Nay, look again; he cannot be in such haste to quit
us.
“I had not sought him in the right direction. Here is
his gondola, by the bridge of our own canal.”
“ And the cavalier? He waits for some sign of courtesy;
it is meet that we should not withhold it."
" I see him not. His servitor is seated on the steps of
the landing, while the gondola appeareth to be empty.
The man hath an air of waiting, but I no where see the
>>
יין master
“Blessed Maria ! can aught have befallen the gallant
Duca di Sant'Agata ?”
“ Nought but the happiness of casting himself here!”
exclaimed a voice near the person of the heiress. The
i


THE BRAVO.
203
Donna Violetta turned her gaze from the balcony, and be-
held him who filled all her thoughts, at her feet.
The
cry
of the girl, the exclamation of her friend, and
a rapid and eager movement of the monk, brought the
whole party into a group.
“This may not be;" said the latter in a reproving voice.
“Arise, Don Camillo, lest I repent listening to your
prayer; you exceed our conditions."
“As much as this emotion exceedeth my hopes," an-
swered the noble. “Holy father, it is vain to oppose Pro-
vidence! Providence brought me to the rescue of this
lovely being, when accident threw her into the Giudecca,
and, once more, Providence is my friend, by permitting
me to be a witness of this feeling. Speak, fair Violetta,
thou wilt not be an instrument of the senate's selfishness
-thou wilt not hearken to their wish of disposing of thy
hand on the mercenary, who would trifle with the most
sacred of all vows, to possess thy wealth ?”
“For whom am I destined ?" demanded Violetta.
“No matter, since it be not for me. Some trafficker in
happiness, some worthless abuser of the gifts of fortune.'
“Thou knowest, Camillo, our Venetian custom, and
must see that I am hopelessly in their hands."
“Arise, Duke of St. Agata," said the monk, with au-
thority; “when I suffered you to enter this palace, it was
to remove a scandal from its gates, and to save you
from
your own rash disregard of the state's displeasure. It is
idle to encourage hopes that policy of the republic opposes..
Arise, then, and respect your pledges.”
“ That shall be as this lady may decide. Encourage me
with but an approving look, fairest Violetta, and not Ve-
nice, with its doge and inquisition, shall stir me an inch
from thy feet!"
“ Camillo!” answered the trembling girl,
thou, the
preserver of my life, hast little need to kneel to me!"


201
THE BRAVO.
** Duke of St. Agata-daughter !"
“ Nay, heed him not, generous Violetta. He utters
words of convention-he speaks as all speak in age, when
men's tongues deny the feelings of their youth. He is a
Carmelite, and must feign this prudence. He never knew
the tyranny of the passions. The dampness of his cell has
chilled the ardour of the heart. Had he been human he
would have loved; had he loved he would never have worn
a cowl.”
Father Anselmo receded a' pace, like one pricked in
conscience, and the paleness of his ascetic features took a
deadly hue.
His lips moved as if he would have spoken,
but the sounds were smothered by an oppression that
denied him utterance. The gentle Florinda saw his dis-
tress, and she endeavoured to interpose between the im-
petuous youth and her charge.
“It may be as you say, Signor Monforte," she said,
and that the senate, in its' fatherly care, searches a part-
ner worthy of an heiress of a house so illustrious and so
endowed as that of Tiepolo. But in this, what is there more
than of wont? Do not the nobles of all Italy seek their
equals in condition and in the gifts of fortune, in order that
their union may be fittingly assorted ? How know we that
the estates of
my young
friend have not a value in the
eye
of the Duke of St. Agata, as well as in those of him that
the senate may elect for thy husband ?"
“Can this be true?” exclaimed Violetta.
“Believe it not; my errand in Venice is no secret. I
seek the restitution of lands and houses long withheld from
my family, with honours of the senate that are justly mine.
All these do I joyfully abandon for the hope of thy fà-
92
vour.
“Thou hearest, Florinda. Don Camillo is not to be
distrusted 1"
“What are the senate and the power of St. Mark, that.


THE BRAVO.
205
they should cross our lives with misery! Be mine, lovely
Violetta, and in the fastnesses of my own good Calabrian
castle we will defy their vengeance and policy. Their dis-
appointment shall furnish merriment for my vassals, and
our ſelicity shall make the happiness of thousands. I affect
no disrespect for the dignity of the councils, nor any in-
difference to that I lose, but to me art thou far more pre-
cious than the horned bonnet itself, with all its fancied
influence and glory.'
"Generous Camillo !"
“Be mine, and spare the cold calculators of the senate
another crime. They think to dispose of thee, as if thou
wert worthless merchandise, to their own advantage. But
thou wilt defeat their design. I read the generous resolu-
tion in thine eye, Violetta; thou wilt manifest a will su-
perior to their arts and egotism."
"I would not be trafficked for, Don Camillo Monforte,
but wooed and won as befitteth a maiden of my condition.
They may still leave me liberty of choice. The Signor
Gradenigo hath much encouraged me of late with this
hope, when speaking of the establishment suited to my
years."
“Believe him not; a colder heart, a spirit more removed
from charity, exists not in Venice. He courts thy favour
for his own prodigal son; a cavalier without honour, the
companion of profligates, and the victim of the Hebrews.
Believe him not, for he is stricken in deceit.”
“He is the victim of his own designs, if this be true. Of
all the youths of Venice I esteem Giacomo Gradenigo least.”
“ This interview must have an end," said the monk, in-
terposing effectually, and compelling the lover to rise. “It
would be easier to escape the toils of sin than to elude the
agents of the police. I tremble lest this visit should be
known, for we are encircled with the ministers of the state,
99
77


206
THE BRAVO.
>>
and not a palace in Venice is more narrowly watched than
this. Were thy presence here detected, indiscreet young
man, thy youth might pine in a prison, while thou wouldst
be the cause of persecution and unmerited sorrow to this
innocent and inexperienced maiden."
“A prison, sayest thou, father ?”
“No less, daughter. Lighter offences are often expiated
by heavier judgments, when the pleasure of the senate is
thwarted."
Thou must not be condemned to a prison, Camillo !"
Fear it not. The years and peaceful calling of the
father make him timid. I have long been prepared for this
happy moment, and I ask but a single hour to put Venice
and all her toils at defiance. Give me the blessed assurance
of thy truth, and confide in my means for the rest.
“ Thou hearest, Florinda !”
“This bearing is suited to the sex of Don Camillo, dearest,
but it ill becometh thee. A maiden of high quality must
await the decision of her natural guardians.
But should that choice be Giacomo Gradenigo ?”
“ The senate will not hear of it. The arts of his father
have long been known to thee; and thou must have seen,
by the secrecy of his own advances, that he distrusts their
decision. The state will have a care to dispose of thee as
befitteth thy hopes. Thou art sought of many, and those
who guard thy fortune only await the proposals which may
best become thy birth.”
** Proposals that become my birth!”
“Suitable in years, condition, expectations, and cha-
racter.”
Am I to regard Don Camillo Monforte as one beneath
me?"
The monk again interposed.
* This interview must end," he said. “The eyes drawn


THE BRAVO.
207
97
upon us, by your indiscreet music, are now turned on
other objects, Signore, and you must break your faith, or
depart.”
"Alone, father?"
“Is the Donna Violetta to quit the roof of her father with
as little warning as an unfavoured dependant ?
“Nay, Signor Monforte, you could not, in reason, have
expected more, in this interview, than the hope of some
future termination to your suit--some pledge-
“And that pledge?”
The eye of Violetta turned from her governess to her
lover, from her lover to the monk, and from the latter to
the floor.
“Is thine, Camillo."
A common cry escaped the Carmelite and the governess.
“Thy mercy, excellent friends," continued the blush-
ing but decided Violella. “If I have encouraged Don Ca-
millo, in a manner that thy counsels and maiden modesty
would reprove, reflect that had he hesitated to cast himself
into the Guidecca, I should have wanted the power to con-
fer this triſling grace. Why should I be less
generous than
my preserver? No, Camillo, when the senate condemns
me to wed another than thee, it pronounces the doom of
celibacy; I will hide my griefs in a convent till I die !"
There was a solemn and fearful interruption to a dis-
course which was so rapidly becoming explicit, by the
sound of the bell that the groom of the chambers, a long
tried and confidential domestic, had been commanded to
ring before he entered. As this injunction had been ac-
companied by another not to appear, unless summoned, or
urged by some grave motive, the signal caused a sudden
pause, even at that interesting moment.
“How now !" exclaimed the Carmelite to the servant, who
abruptly entered; "what means this disregard of my in-
junctions ?


208
THE BRAVO.
“Father, the republic !"
" Is St. Mark in jeopardy, that females and priests are
summoned to aid him?"
“ There are officials of the state below, who demand ad-
mission in the name of the republic ?”
“ This grows serious,” said Don Camillo, who alone re-
tained his self-possession. “My visit is known, and the
active jealousy of the state anticipates its object. Summon
your resolution, Donna Violetta, and you, father, be of
heart! I will assume the responsibility of the offence, if of-
fence it be, and exonerate all others from censure.
“Forbid it, Father Anselmo. Dearest Florinda, we will
share his punishment !” exclaimed the terrified Violetla,
losing all self-command in the fear of such a moment.
“ He has not been guilty of this indiscretion without par-
ticipation of mine; he has not presumed beyond his en-
couragement."
The monk and Donna Florinda regarded each other in
mute amazement, and haply there was some admixture of
feeling in the look that denoted the uselessness of caution,
when the passions were intent to elude the vigilance of those
who were merely prompted by prudence. The former
simply motioned for silence, while he turned to the do-
mestic.
“Of what character are these ministers of the state?”
he demanded.
“Father, they are its known officers, and wear the
badges of their condition.”
“And their request ?”
“ Is to be admitted to the presence of the Donna Vio-
letta."
• There is still a hope !" rejoined the monk, breathing
more freely. Moving across the room, he opened a door
which communicated with the private oratory of the pa-
lace. “Retire within this sacred chapel, Don Camillo,
22


THE BRAVO.
209
while we await the explanation of so extraordinary a
visit.”
As time pressed, the suggestion was obeyed on the in-
stant. The lover entered the oratory, and when the door
was closed
upon
his
person, the domestic, one known to be
worthy of all confidence, was directed to usher in those
who waited without.
But a single individual appeared. He was known, at a
glance, for a public and responsible agent of the govern-
ment, who was often charged with the execution of secret
and delicate duties. Donna Violetta advanced to meet him,
in respect to his employers, and with the return of that
self-possession, which long practice interweaves with the
habits of the great.
“I am honoured by this care of my dreaded and illus-
trious guardians,” she said, making an acknowledgment
for the low reverence with which the official saluted the
richest ward of Venice. "To what circumstance do I owe
this visit ?”
The officer gazed an instant about him, with an ha-
bitual and suspicious caution, and then repeating his sa-
lutations, he answered:
Lady,” he said, “I am commanded to seek an inter-
view with the daughter of the state, the heiress of the il-
. lustrious house of Tiepolo, with the Donna Florinda Mer-
cato, her female companion, with the Father Anselmo, her
commissioned confessor, and with any others who enjoy
the pleasure of her society and the honour of her confi-
dence.”
“ Those you seek are here; I am Violetta Tiepolo; to
this lady am I indebted for a mother's care, and this reve-
rend Carmelite is my spiritual counsellor. Shall I sum -
mon my household ???
“ It is unnecessary. My errand is rather of private
than of public concern. At the decease of your late most
14


210
THE BRAVO.
>>
honoured and much lamented parent, the illustrious sena-
tor Tiepolo, the care of your person, lady, was committed
by the republic, your natural and careful protector, to the
especial guardianship and wisdom of Signore Alessandro
Gradenigo, of illustrious birth and estimable qualities.
· Signore, you say true.
“Though the parental love of the councils may bave
seemed to lie dormant, it has ever been wakeful and vigi-
lant. Now that the years, instruction, beauty, and other
excellences of their daughter have come to so rare perſec-
tion, they wish to draw the ties that unite them nearer, by
assuming their own immediate duties about her person.
“By this am I to understand that I am no longer a ward
of the Signore Gradenigo ?”
“Lady, a ready wit has helped you to the explanation.
That illustrious patrician is released from his cherished
and well-acquitted duties. To-morrow new guardians will
be charged with the care of your prized person, and will
continue their honourable trust, until the wisdom of the
senate shall have formed for you such an alliance, as shall
not disparage a noble name, and qualities that might adorn
a throne.”
“Am I to be separated from those I love ?” demanded
Violetta, impetuously.
“ Trust to the senate's wisdom. I know nol its deter- .
mination concerning those who have long dwelt with you,
but there can be no reason to doubt its tenderness or dis-
cretion. I have now only to add, that until those charged
anew with the honourable office of your protectors shall
arrive, it will be well to maintain the same modest reserve
in the recoption of visitors as of wont, and that your door,
lady, must in propriety be closed against the Signore Gra-
denigo as against all others of his sex.
6- Shall I not even thank him for his care?”
“He is tenfold rewarded in the senate's gratitude."
27


THE BRAVO.
211
* It would have been gracious to have expressed my
feelings towards the Signore Gradenigo in words; but that
which is refused to the tongue will be permitted to the
pen.”
“ The reserve that becomes the state of one so favoured
is absolute. St. Mark is jealous where he loves. And,
now my commission is discharged, I humbly take my leave,
flattered in having been selected to stand in such a pre-
sence, and to have been thought worthy of so honourable
a duty.”
As the officer ceased speaking, and Violetta returned his
bows, she turned her eyes, filled with apprehension, on the
sorrowful features of her companions. The ambiguous
language of those employed in such missions was too well
known to leave much hope for the future. They all anti-
cipated their separation on the morrow, though neither
could penetrate the reason of this sudden change in the
policy of the state. Interrogation was useless, for the blow
evidently came from the secret council, whose motives
could no more be fathomed than its decrees foreseen.
The monk raised his hands in silent benediction towards
his spiritual charge, and, unable, even in the presence of
the stranger, to repress their grief, Donna Florinda and
Violetta sunk into each other's arms and wept.
In the mean time, the minister of this cruel blow had
delayed his departure, like one who had a half-formed re-
solution. He regarded the countenance of the unconscious
Carmelite intently, and in a manner that denoted the habit
of thinking much before he decided.
“ Reverend Father,” he said, “may I crave a moment
of
your time, for an affair that concerns the soul of a
sinner?"
Though amazed, the monk could not hesitate about
answering such an appeal. Obedient to a gesture of the
officer, he followed him from the apartment, and continued
14 *


212
THE BRAVO.
at his side while the other threaded the magnificent rooms
and descended to his gondola.
“You must be much honoured of the senate, holy monk,"
observed the latter while they proceeded,“ to hold so near
a trust about the person of one in whom the state takes so
great an interest ?"
• I feel it as such, my son.
A life of peace and prayer
should have made me friends."
“Men like you, father, merit the esteem they crave.
Are you long of Venice ?"
“Since the last conclave. I came into the republic as
confessor to the late minister from Florence.'
" An honourable trust. You have been with us then
long enough to know that the republic never forgets a ser-
vitor, nor forgives an affront."
: 'Tis an ancient state, and one whose influence still
reaches far and near.
“Have a care of the step. These marbles are treacherous
to an uncertain foot.”
Mine is too practised in the descent to be uns dy.
I hope I do not now descend these stairs for the last time?”
The minister of the council affected not to understand
the question, but he answered as if replying only to the
previous observation.
- 'Tis truly a venerable state," he said, “but a little
tottering with its years. All who love liberty, father,
inust mourn to see so glorious a sway on the decline. Sic
transit gloria mundi! You bare-footed Carmelites do well
to mortify the flesh in youth, by which you escape
the
pains of a decreasing power. One like you can have few
wrongs of his younger days to repair ?”
“We are none of us without sin,” returned the monk,
crossing himself. • He who would flatter his soul with
being perfect lays the additional weight of vanity on his
Jife.”


THE BRAVO.
213
“Men of my occupation, holy Carmelite, have few op-
portunities of looking into themselves, and I bless the hour
that hath brought me into company so godly. My gondola
waits--will you enter ?"
The monk regarded his companion with distrust, but
knowing the uselessness of resistance, he murmured a short
prayer and complied. A strong dash of the oars announced
their departure from the steps of the palace.
CILAPTER XV.
O pescator! dell'onda,
Fi da lin;
O pescator! dell'onda,
Fi da lin:
Vien pescar in qua,
Colla bella tua barca,
Colla bella se ne va,
Fi da lin, lin, lam
Venetian Boat Song.
The moon was at the height. Its rays
fell in a flood on
the swelling domes and massives roofs of Venice, while the
margin of the town was brilliantly defined by the glittering
bay. The natural and gorgeous setting was more than
worthy of that picture of human magnificence; for at the
moment, rich as was the queen of the Adriatic in her works
of art, the grandeur of her public monuments, the number:
and splendour of her palaces, and most else that the in-
genuity and ambition of man could attempt, she was but,
secondary in the glories of the hour.
Above was the firmament, gemmed with worlds, and,


214
THE BRAVO.
men.
sublime in immensity. Beneath lay the broad expanse of
the Adriatic, endless to the eye, tranquil as the vault it
reflected, and luminous with its borrowed light. Here
and there a low island, reclaimed from the sea by the pa-
tient toil of a thousand years, dotted the Lagunes, bur-
thened with the group of some conventual dwellings, or
picturesque with the modest roofs of a hamlet of the fisher-
Neither oar, nor song, nor laugh, nor flap of sail,
nor jest of mariner, disturbed the stillness. All in the
near view was clothed in midnight loveliness, and all in
the distance bespoke the solemnity of nature at peace.
The city and the Lagunes, the gulf and the dreamy Alps,
the interminable plain of Lombardy, and the blue void of
heaven, lay alike, in a common and grand repose.
There suddenly appeared a gondola. It issued from
among
the watery channels of the town, and glided upon
the vast bosom of the bay, noiseless as the fancied progress
of a spirit. A practised and nervous arm guided its move-
ment, which was unceasing and rapid. So swift indeed
was the passage of the boat, as to denote pressing haste on
the part of the solitary individual it contained. It held the
direction of the Adriatic, steering between one of the more
southern outlets of the bay and the well-known island of
St. Giorgio. For half an hour the exertions of the gon-
dolier were unrelaxed, though his eye was often cast behind
him, as if he distrusted pursuit; and as often did he gaze
a-head, betraying an anxious desire to reach some object
that was yet invisible. When a wide reach of water lay
between him and the town, however, he permitted his
oar to rest, and he lent all his faculties to a keen and
anxious search.
A small dark spot was discovered on the water still
nearer to the sea. The oar of the gondolier dashed the
element behind him, and his boat again glided away, so far
altering its course as to show that all indecision was now


216
THE BRAVO.
sinking form, as in all which has come from his wisdom and
power. I have prayed much since the moon has risen.”
“ And is habit so strong in thee, that thou thinkest of God
and thy sins, while thou anglest ?”
“ The poor must toil and the sinful must pray. My
thoughts have dwelt so much of late on the boy, that I
have forgotten to provide myself with food. If I fish later
or earlier than common, 'tis because a man cannot live on
grief.”
>
“ I have bethought me of thy situation, honest Antonio;
here is that which will support life and raise thy courage.
See," added the Bravo, stretching forth an arm into his
owa gondola, from which he drew a basket, “ here is
bread from Dalmatia, wine of Lower Italy, and figs from
the Levant-eat, then, and be of cheer,
The fisherman threw a wistful glance at the viands, for
hunger was making powerful appeals to the weakness of
nature, but his hand did not relinquish its hold of the line,
with which he still continued to angle.
“ And these are thy gifts, Jacopo ?” he asked, in a voice
that, spite of his resignation, betrayed the longings of ap-
petite.
“« Antonio, they are the offerings of one who respects thy
courage and honours thy nature.
Bought with his earnings ?”'
“Can it be otherwise ? — I am no beygar, for the love
of the saints, and few in Venice give unasked. Eat then,
without fear! seldom wilt thou be more welcome."
“ Take them away, Jacopo, if thou lovest me. Do not
tempt me beyond what I can bear.”
“How! art thou commanded to do a penance ?” hastily
exclaimed the other.
“ Not so—not so. It is long since I have found leisure
or heart for the confessional."
>>
>>


THE BRAVO.
217
66
" Then why refuse the gift of a friend ? Remember thy
years and necessities.”
“I cannot feed on the price of blood!"
The hand of the Bravo was withdrawn, as if repelled by
an electric touch. The action caused the rays of the moon
to fall athwart his kindling eye, and firm as Antonio was
in honesty and principle, he felt the blood creep to his
heart, as he encountered the fierce and sudden glance of
his companion. A long pause succeeded, during which the
fisherman diligently plied his line, though utterly regardless
of the object for which it had been cast.
I have said it, Jacopo,” he added, at length," and
tongue of mine shall not belie the thought of my heart.
Take
away thy food, then, and forget all that is past; for
what I have said hath not been said in scorn, but out of
regard to my own soul. Thou knowest how I have sor-
rowed for the boy, but next to his loss I could mourn over
thee-ay, more bitterly than over any other of the fallen!”
The bard breathing of the Bravo was audible, but still he
spoke not.
* Jacopo," continued the anxious fisherman, “ do not
The pity of the suffering and poor is not
like the scorn of the rich and worldly. If I touch a sore I
do not bruise it wilh my heel. Thy present pain is better
than the greatest of all thy former joys."
“Enough, old man,” said the other, in a smothered voice;
“thy words are forgotten. Eat without fear, for the offering
is bought with earnings pure as the gleanings of a mendicant
friar.”
“I will trust to the kindness of St. Anthony and the for-
tune of my hook,” simply relurned Antonio.
'Tis com-
mon for us of the Lagunes to go to a supperless bed: take
away the basket, good Jacopo, and let us speak of other
things.”
The Bravo ceased to press his food upon the fisher-
mistake me.


218
THE BRAVO.
66
man. Laying aside his basket, he sat brooding over what
had occurred.
· Hast thou come thus far for nought else, good Jacopo ?”
demanded the old man, willing to weaken the shock of his
refusal.
The question appeared to restore Jacopo to a recollec-
tion of his errand. He stood erect, and looked about him,
for more than a minute, with a keen eye and an entire in-
tentness of purpose. The look in the direction of the city
was longer and more earnest than those thrown toward the
sea and the main, nor was it withdrawn, until an invo-
luntary start betrayed equally surprise and alarm.
“ Is there not a boat, here, in a line with the lower of
the Campanile ?” he asked quickly, pointing towards the
city.
“It so seems. It is early for my comrades to be abroad,
but the draughts have not been heavy of late, and the re-
velry of yesterday drew many of our people from their toil.
The patricians must eat, and the poor must labour, or both
would die.”
The Bravo slowly seated himself, and he looked with
concern into the countenance of his companion.
“ Art thou long here, Antonio ?”
“But an hour. When they turned us away from the
palace, thou knowest that I told thee of my necessities.
There is not, in common, a more certain spot on the
Lagunes than this, and yet bave I long played the line in
vain. The trial of hunger is hard, but, like all other trials,
it must be borne. I have prayed to my patron thrice, and
sooner or later he will listen to my wants. Thou art used
to the manners of these masked nobles, Jacopo; dost thou
think them likely to hearken to reason? I hope I did the
cause no wrong for want of breeding, but I spoke them fair
and plainly, as fathers and men with hearts.
“ As senators they have none. Thou little understandest,
??


THE BRAVO.
219
Antonio, the distinctions of these patricians. In the gaiety
of their palaces, and among the companions of their plea-
sures, none will speak you fairer of humanity and justice-
aye-even of God! but when met to discuss what they call
the interests of St. Mark, there is not a rock on the coldest
peak of yonder Alp, with less humanity, or a wolf among
their valleys more heartless !"
Thy words are strong, Jacopo—I would not do injus-
tice even to those who have done me this wrong. The
senalors are men, and God has given all feelings and nature
alike.'
“The gift is then abused. Thou hast felt the want of
thy daily assistant, fisherman, and thou hast sorrowed for
thy child; for thee it is easy to enter into another's griefs ;
but the senators know nothing of suffering. Their child-
ren are not dragged to the galleys, their hopes are never
destroyed by laws coming from hard task-masters, nor are
their tears shed for sons ruined by being made companions
of the dregs of the republic. They will talk of public vir-
tue and services to the state, but in their own cases they
mean the virtue of renown, and services that bring with
them honours and rewards. The wants of the state is
their conscience, though they take heed those wants shall
do themselves no harm.”
Jacopo, Providence itself hath made a difference in
One is large, another small; one weak, another
strong; one wise, another foolish. At what Providence
hath done, we should not murmur!”
• Providence did not make the senate: 'tis an invention
Mark me, Antonio, thy language hath given of-
fence, and thou art not safe in Venice. They will pardon
all but complaints against their justice. That is too true
to be forgiven.
“Can they wish to harm one who seeks his own
child?
79
men.
of map.
22


220
THE BRAVO.
22
“If thou wert great and respected, they would undermine
thy fortune and character, ere thou shouldst put their sys-
tem in danger-as thou art weak and poor, they will do
thee some direct injury, unless thou art moderate. Before
all, I warn thee that their system must stand !"
" Will God suffer this?"?
“We may not enter into his secrets," returned the Bravo,
devoutly crossing himself. “Did his reign end with this
world, there might be injustice in suffering the wicked 10
triumph, but, as it is, we-Yon boat approaches fast !
I little like its air and movements.
“They are not fishermen, truly, for there are many
oars and a canopy !??
" It is a gondola of the state!” exclaimed Jacopo,
rising and stepping into his own boat, which he cast loose
from that of his companion, when he stood in evident doubt
as to his future proceedings. Antonio, we should do well
to row away.
* Thy fears are natural," said the unmoved fisherman,
“and 'ris a thousand pities that there is cause for them.
There is yet time for one skilful as thou to outstrip the
fleetest gondola on the canals.”
“Quick, liſt thy anchor, old man, and depart,-my eye
I know the boat."
Poor Jacopo! what a curse is a tender conscience.!
Thou hast been kind to me in my need, and if prayers,
from a sincere heart, can do thee service, thou shalt not
want them.”
“ Antonio !” cried the other, causing his boat to whirl
away, and then pausing an instant like a man undecided-
“I can stay no longer--trust them not—they are false as
fiends—there is no time to lose-I must away.”
The fisherman murmured an ejaculation of pity, as he
waved a hand, in adieu !
“ Holy St. Anthony, watch over my own child, lest he
is sure.
1


THE BRAVO.
221
come to some such miserable life !” he added, in an au-
dible prayer—" There hath been good seed cast on a rock,
in that youth, for a warmer or kinder heart is not in man.
That one like Jacopo should live by striking the assassin's
blow !"
The near approach of the strange gondola, now attracted
the whole attention of the old man. It came swiftly towards
him, impelled by six strong oars, and his eye turned fe-
verishly in the direction of the fugitive. Jacopo, with a
readiness that necessity and long practice rendered nearly
instinctive, had taken a direction which blended his wake
in a line with one of those bright streaks that the moon
drew on the water, and which by dazzling the eye, effect-
ually concealed the objects within its widih. When the
fisherman saw that the Bravo had disappeared, he smiled
and seemed at ease.
“Ay, let them come here,” he said; “it will give Jacopo
more time. I doubt not the poor fellow hath struck a blow,
since quitting the palace, that the council will not forgive!
The sight of gold hath been too strong, and he hath of-
fended those who have so long borne with him. God
forgive me, that I have had communion with such a man!
but when the heart is heavy, the pity of even a dog will
warm our feelings. Few care for me, now, or the friend-
ship of such as he could never have been welcome.”
Antonio ceased, for the gondola of the state came with a
rushing noise to the side of his own boat, where it was sud-
denly stopped by a backward sweep of the oars. The water
was still in ebullition, when a form passing into the gondola
of the fisherman, the larger boat shot away again, to the
distance of a few hundred feet, and remained at rest.
Antonio witnessed this movement in silent curiosity; but
when he saw the gondoliers of the state lying on their oars,
he glanced his eye again furtively in the direction of Ja-
copo, saw that all was safe, and faced his companion with


THE BRAVO.
223
“Such is my errand. I lament the occasion, and if
what I fear be true, still more must I regret that one so
aged should have brought his devoted head beneath the
arm of justice.”
Antonio smiled, and again he bent his eyes along that
dazzling streak of light, which had swallowed
up
the
gon-
dola and the person of the Bravo.
“ Father,” he said, when a long and earnest look was
ended, “ there can be little harm in speaking truth to one
of thy holy office. They have told thee there was a cri-
minal here in the Lagunes, who hath provoked the anger
of St. Mark?”
Thou art right.”
• It is not easy to know when St. Mark is pleased, or
when he is not,” continued Antonio, playing his line with
indifference, “ for the very man he now seeks has he long
tolerated; aye, even in presence of the doge. The senate
bath its reasons which lie beyond the reach of the igno-
rant, but it would have been better for the soul of the
poor
youth, and more seemly for the republic, had it turned a
discouraging countenance on bis deeds from the first."
“Thou speakest of another !-thou art not then the
criminal they seek ?"
“I a
am a sinner, like all born of woman, reverend Car-
melite, but my hand hath never held any other weapon
than the good sword with which I struck the infidel. There
was one lately here, that I grieve to add, cannot say
this !”
* And he is gone ?”
"Father, you have your eyes, and you can answer that
question for yourself. He is gone; though he is not far;
still is he beyond the reach of the swiſtest gondola in Ve-
nice, praised be St. Mark !”
The Carmelite, bowed his head, where he was seated,
and his lips moved, either in prayer or in thanksgiving.


224
THE BRAVO.
“ Are you sorry, monk, that a sinner has escaped ?"
Son, I rejoice that this bitter office hath passed from
me, while I mourn that there should be a spirit so de-
praved as to require it. Let us summon the servants of the
republic, and inform them that their errand is useless."
“Be not of baste, good father. The night is gentle, and
these hirelings sleep on their oars, like gulls in the Lagunes.
The youth will have more time for repentance, should be
be undisturbed.”
The Carmelite, who had arisen, instantly reseated him-
self, like one actuated by a strong impulse.
“I thought he had already been far beyond pursuit,”
he muttered, unconsciously apologising for his apparent
haste.
“ He is over bold, and I fear he will row back to the
can als, in which case you might meet nearer to the city-
or, there may be more gondolas of the state out-in short,
father, thou wilt be more certain to escape hearing the
confession of a Bravo, by listening to that of a fisherman,
who has long wanted an occasion to acknowledge his sins.”
Men who ardently wish the same result, require few
words to understand each other. The Carmelite took, in-
tuitively, the meaning of his companion, and throwing
back his cowl, a movement that exposed the countenance
of Father Anselmo, be prepared to listen to the confession
of the old man.
“Thou art a christian, and one of thy years hath not to
learn the state of mind that becometh a penitent;” said
the monk, when each was ready.
“I am a sinner, father; give me counsel and absolu-
tion, that I may have hope.”
“Thy will be done-thy prayer 's heard-approach and
kneel.”
Antonio, who had fastened his line to his seat, and dis-
posed of his net with habitual care, now crossed himself
1


THE BRAVO.
225
devoutly, and took his station before the Carmelite. His
acknowledgments of error then began. Much mental mi-
sery clothed the language and ideas of the fisherman with
dignity that his auditor had not been accustomed to find
in men of his class. A spirit so long chastened by suffer-
ing had become elevated and noble. He related his hopes
for the boy, the manner in which they had been blasted
by the unjust and selfish policy of the state, of his different
efforts to procure the release of his grandson, and his
bold expedients at the regatta, and the fancied nuptials
with the Adriatic. When he had thus prepared the Car-
melite to understand the origin of the sinful passions,
which it was now his duty to expose, he spoke of those
passions themselves, and of their influence on a mind that
was ordinarily at peace with mankind. The tale was told
simply and without reserve, but in a manner to inspire
respect, and to awaken powerful sympathy in him who
heard it.
97
“And these feelings thou didst indulge against the ho-
noured and powerful of Venice!" demanded the monk, af-
fecting a severity he could not feel.
“Before my God do I confess the sin! In bitterness
of heart I cursed them; for to me they seemed men with-
out feeling for the poor, and heartless as the marbles of
their own palaces."
“Thou knowest that to be forgiven, thou must forgive.
Dost thou, at peace with all of earth, forget this wrong?
and canst thou, in charity with thy fellows, pray to Him
who died for the race, in behalf of those who have injured
thee?"
Antonio bowed his head on his naked breast, and he
seemed to commune with his soul.
“Father,” he said, in a rebuked tone, “I hope I do."
“Thou must not trifle with thyself to thine own perdi-
tion. There is an eye in yon vault above us wbich per-
15


226
THE BRAVO.
!
vades space, and which looks into the inmost secrets of the
heart. Canst thou pardon the error of the patricians, in
a contrite spirit for thine own sins !”
"Holy Maria, pray for them, as I now ask mercy in their
behalf !-Father, they are forgiven.'
“ Amen!"
The Carmelite arose and stood over the kneeling Antonio,
with the whole of his benevolent countenance illuminated
by the moon. Stretching his arms towards the stars, he
pronounced the absolution, in a voice that was touched
with pious fervour. The upward expectant eye, with the
withered lineaments of the fisherman, and the holy calm
of the monk, formed a picture of resignation and hope,
that angels would have loved to witness.
“ Amen! amen !” exclaimed Antonio, as he arose,
crossing himself; “ St. Anthony and the Virgin aid me to
keep these resolutions !"
“ I will not forget thee, my son, in the offices of holy
church. Receive my benediction, that I may depart,"
Antonio again bowed his knee, while the Carmelite firmly
pronounced the words of peace. When this last office was
performed, and a decent interval of mutual but silent
prayer had passed, a signal was given to summon the gon-
dola of the state. It came rowing down with great force,
and was instantly at their side. Two men passed into the
boat of Antonio, and with officious zeal assisted the monk
to resume his place in that of the republic.
“ Is the penitent shrived ?” half whispered one, seem-
ingly the superior of the two.
Here is an error. He thou seekest has escaped. This
aged man is a fisherman named Antonio, and one who
cannot have gravely offended St. Mark. The Bravo hath
passed toward the island of San Giorgio, and must be
sought elsewhere."
The officer released the person of the monk, who passed


THE BRAVO.
227
quickly beneath the canopy, and he turned to cast a hasty
glance at the features of the fisherman. The rubbing of a
rope was audible, and the anchor of Antonio was lifted by a
suddeu jerk. A heavy plashing of the water followed, and
the two boats shot away together, obedient to a violent
effort of the crew. The gondola of the state exhibited its
usual number of gondoliers bending to their toil, with its
dark and hearse-like canopy, but that of the fisherman was
empty!
The sweep of the oars and the plunge of the body of
Antonio had been blended in a common wash of the
surge.
When the fisherman came to the surface, after his fall, he
was alone in the centre of the vast but tranquil sheet of
water. There might have been a glimnmering of hope, as
he arose from the darkness of the sea to the bright beauty
of that moon-lit night. But the sleeping domes were too
far for human strength, and the gondolas were sweeping
madly towards the town. He turned, and swimming
feebly, for hunger and previous exertion had undermined
his strength, he bent bis eye on the dark spot, which he
had constantly recognized as the boat of the Bravo.
Jacopo had not ceased to watch the interview, with the
utmost intentness of his faculties. Favoured by position,
he could see without being distinctly visible. He saw the
Carmelite pronouncing the absolution, and he witnessed the
approach of the larger boat. He heard a plunge heavier
than that of falling oars, and he saw the gondola of Anto-
dio towing away empty. The crew of the republic had
scarcely swept the Lagunes with their oar-blades, before his
own stirred the water.
Jacopo ! - Jacopo !" came fearfully and faintly to his
ears.
The voice was known and the occasion thoroughly un-
derstood. The cry of distress was succeeded by the rush
of the water, as it piled before the beak of the Bravo's
1
15 *


228
THE BRAVO.
gondola. The sound of the parted element was like ihe
sighing of a breeze. Ripples and bubbles were left behind,
as the driven scud floats past the stars, and all those muscles
which had once before that day been so finely developed in
the race of the gondoliers, were now expanded, seemingly
in twofold volumes. Energy and skill were in every stroke,
and the dark spot came down the streak of light, like the
swallow touching the water with its wing.
“Hither, Jacopo-thou steerest wide?"
The beak of the gondola turned, and the glaring eye of
the Bravo caught a glimpse of the fisherman's head.
Quickly, good Jacopo,-I fail !"
The murmuring of the water again drowned the stifled
words. The efforts of the oar were frenzied, and at each
stroke the light gondola appeared to rise from its element.
Jacopo-hither-dear Jacopo!".
“ The mother of God aid thee, fisherman ! I come."
“Jacopo--the boy !--the boy !”
The water gurgled; an arm was visible in the air, and it
disappeared. The gondola drove upon the spot where the
limb had just been visible, and a backward stroke, that
caused the ashen blade to bend like a reed, laid the trem-
bling boat motionless. The furious action threw the Lagune
into ebullition, but, when the foam subsided, it lay calm
as the blue and peaceful vault it reflected.
“ Antonio !”--burst from the lips of the Bravo.
A frightful silence succeeded the call. There was neither
answer nor human form. Jacopo compressed the handle
of his oar with fingers of iron, and his own breathing caused
him to start. On every side he bent a frenzied eye, and
on every side he beheld the profound repose of that trea -
cherous element which is so terrible in its wrath. Like
the human heart, it seemed to sympathize with the tranquil
beauty of the midnight view; but, like the human heart, it
kept its own fearful secrets.


THE BRAVO.'
229
CHAPTER XVI.
“Yet a few days and dream. perturbed nights,
And I shall slumber well--but where ?- no matter.
Adieu, my Angiolina.”
Marino Faliero.
When the Carmelite re-entered the apartment of Donna
Violetta his face was covered with the hue of death, and
his limbs with difficulty supported him to a chair. He
scarcely observed that Don Camillo Monforte was still
pre-
sent, nor did he note the brightness and joy which glowed
in the eyes of the ardent Violetta. Indeed his appearance was
at first unseen by the happy lovers, for the Lord of St.
Agata had succeeded in wresting the secret from the breast
of his mistress, if that may be called a secret which Italian
character had scarcely struggled to retain, and he had
crossed the room before even the more tranquil look of the
Donna Florinda rested on his person.
“Thou art ill !” exclaimed the governess.
“ Father
Anselmo hath not been absent without grave cause!"
The monk threw back his cowl for air, and the act dis-
covered the deadly paleness of his features. But his
eye,
charged with a meaning of horror, rolled over the faces of
those who drew around him, as if he struggled with memory
to recal their persons.
“Ferdinando ! Father Anselmo !" cried the Donna Flo-
rinda, correcting the unbidden familiarity, though she
could not command the anxiety of her rebel features ;
-"Speak to us-thou art suffering !"
“ Ill at heart, Florinda.”


230
THE BRAVO.
“ Deceive us not-haply thou hast more evil tidings-
Venice-"
“ Is a fearful state!"
“Why hast thou quitted us—why, in a moment of so
much importance to our pupil-a moment that may prove
of the last influence on her happiness-hast thou been ab-
sent for a long hour?”
Violetta turned a surprised and unconscious glance to-
wards the clock, but she spoke not.
“The servants of the state had need of me;" returned
the monk, easing the pain of his spirit by a groan.
“I understand thee, Father ;-thou hast shrived a pe-
nitent?"
Daughter, I have; and fewer depart more at peace with
God and their fellows !"
Donna Florinda murmured a short prayer for the soul
of the dead, piously crossing herself as she concluded. Her
example was imitated by her pupil, and even the lips of Don
Camillo moved, while his head was bowed by the side of
his fair companion, in seeming reverence.
“ 'Twas a just end, Father ?” demanded Donna Florinda.
" It was an unmerited one!” cried the monk, with fer-
vour, or there is no faith in man. I have witnessed the
death of one who was better fitted to live, as happily he was
better fitted to die, than those who pronounced his doom.
What a fearful state is Venice !"
“ And such are they who are masters of thy person, Vio-
letta,” said Don Camillo : “to these midnight murderers
will thy happiness be consigned! Tell us, Father, does thy
sad tragedy touch in any manner on the interests of this
fair being? for we are encircled here by mysteries that are
as incomprehensible, while they are nearly as fearful, as
fate itself."
The monk looked from one to the other, and a more
human expression began to appear in his countenance.
92


THE BRAVO.
231
to
“Thou art right,” he said ; “such are the men who mean
to dispose of the person of our pupil. Holy St. Mark, par-
don the prostitulion of his revered name, and shield her
with the virtue of his prayers !”
“Father, are we worthy to know more of that thou hast
witnessed ?”
“The secrets of the confessional are sacred, my son;
but this hath been a disclosure to cover the living, and not
the dead, with shame."
“I see the hand of those up above in this !” for so most
spoke of the Council of Three. “They have tampered
with my right, for years, to suit their selfish purposes; and,
my
shame must I own it, they have driven me to a sub-
mission, in order to obtain justice, that as ill accords with
my feelings as with my character.”
"Nay, Camillo, thou art incapable of this injustice to
thyself !”
so 'Tis a fearful government, dearest, and its fruits are
equally pernicious to the ruler and the subject. It hath,
of all other dangers the greatest, the curse of secrecy on
its intentions, its acts, and its responsibilities !”
Thou sayest true, my son; there is no security against
oppression and wrong in a state, but the fear of God, or
the fear of man. Of the first, Venice hath none, for too
many souls share the odium of her sins; and as for the
last, her deeds are hid from their knowledge.”
“We speak boldly for those who live beneath her laws,"
observed Donna Florinda, glancing a look timidly around
her. “ As we can neither change nor amend the practices
of the state, better that we should be silent.'
“ If we cannot alter the power of the councils we may
elude it,” hastily answered Don Camillo, though he too
dropped his voice, and assured himself of their security,
by closing the casement, and casting his eyes towards the
92


232
THE BRAVO.
different doors of the room. “Are you assured of tbe fi-
delity of the menials, Donna Florinda ?”
“Far from it, Signore; we have those who are of an-
cient service and of tried character; but we have those
who were named by the senator, Gradenigo, and who are
doubtless no other than the agents of the state."
“In this manner do they pry into the privacy of all! I
am compelled to entertain, in my palace, varlets that I
know to be their hirelings; and yet do I find it better to
seem unconscious of their views, lest they environ me in a
manner that I cannot even suspect. Think you, Father,
that my presence here hath escaped the spies?”
* It would be to hazard much were we to rely on such
security. None saw us enter, as I think, for we used the
secret gate and the more private entrance : but who is cer-
tain of being unobserved when every fifth eye is that of a
mercenary
The terrified Violetta laid her hand on the arm of her
lovcs.
“Even now, Camillo," she said, “thou mayest be ob-
served, and secretly devoted to punishment !”
• If seen, doubt it not: St. Mark will never pardon so
bold an interference with his pleasure. And yet, sweetest
Violetta, to gain thy favour, this risk is nothing; nor will
a far greater hazard turn me from my purpose.
“ These inexperienced and confiding spirits have taken
advantage of my absence to communicate more freely than
was discreet;" said the Carmelite, in the manner of one
who foresaw the answer.
“Father, nature is too strong for the weak preventives
of prudence.
The brow of the monk became clouded.
His com-
panions watched the workings of his mind, as they ap-
peared in a countenance that in common was so bene-
77


THE BRAVO.
233
92
volent, though always sad. For a few moments none
broke the silence.
The Carmelite at length demanded, raising bis troubled
look to the countenance of Don Camillo-.
* Hast thou duly reflected on the consequences of this
rashness, son ? What dost thou propose, in thus braving the
anger of the republic, and in setting at defiance her arts,
her secret means of intelligence, and her terrors ?”
"Father, I have reflected as all of my years reflect,
when in heart and soul they love. I have brought myself
to feel that any misery would be happiness compared to
the loss of Violetta, and that no risk can exceed the reward
of gaining her favour. Thus much for the first of thy
questions—for the last, I can only say that I am too much
accustomed to the wiles of the senate to be a novice in the
means of counteracting them.”
There is but one language for youth, when seduced
by that pleasing delusion which paints the future with hues
of gold. Age and experience may condemn it, but the
weakness will continue to prevail in all, until life shall
appear in its true colours. Duke of Sant' Agata, though
a noble of high lineage and illustrious name, and though
lord of many vassals, thou art not a power—thou canst
not declare thy palace in Venice a fortress, nor send a
herald to the doge with defiance.”
“True, reverend monk; I cannot do this; nor would it
be well for him who could, to trust his fortune on so reck-
less a risk. But the states of St. Mark do not cover the
earth-we can fly."
“The senate hath a long arm; and it bath a thousand
secret hands.”
None know it better than I; still it does no violence
without motive; the faith of their ward irretrievably mine,
the evil, as respects them, becomes irreparable."
- Think'st thou so ? Means would quickly be found to


234
THE BRAVO.
66
separate you.
Believe not that Venice would be thwarted
of its designs so easily; the wealth of a house like this
would purchase many an unworthy suitor, and thy right
would be disregarded, or haply denied.”
“But, Father, the ceremony of the church may not be
despised !” exclaimed Violetta ; "it comes from heaven,
and is sacred.”
“Daughter, I say it with sorrow, but the great and the
powerful find means even to set aside that venerable and
holy sacrament. Thine own gold would serve to seal thy
misery."
This might arrive, Father, were we to continue within
the grasp of St. Mark," interrupted the Neapolitan ; " but
once beyond his borders, 'twould be a bold interference
with the right of a foreign state to lay hands on our persons.
More than this, I have a castle, in St. Agata, that will
defy their most secret means, until events might happen
which should render it more prudent for them to desist
than to persevere.
“ This reason hath force wert thou within the walls of
St. Agata, instead of being, as thou art, among the canals.”
“Here is one of Calabria, a vassal born of mine, a certain
Stefano Milano, the padrone of a Sorrentine felucca, now
lying in the port; the man is in strict amity with my own
gondolier-he who was third in this day's race. Art thou
ill, Father, that thou appearest troubled ?”
“Proceed with thy expedient," answered the monk, mo-
tioning that he wished not to be observed.
“My faithful Gino reports that this Stefano is on the canals,
on some errand of the republic, as he thinks, for though
the mariner is less disposed to familiarity than is wont, he
hath let drop hints that lead to such a conclusion-the fe-
lucca is ready, from hour to hour, to put upon the sea, and
doubt not the padrone would rather serve his natural lord
than these double-dealing miscreants of the senate. I can


THE BRAVO.
235
pay as well as they, if served to my pleasure; and I can
punish too, when offended.”
"There is reason in this, Signore, wert thou beyond the
wiles of this mysterious city. But in what 'manner canst
thou embark, without drawing the notice of those who
doubtless watch our movements, on thy person ?”
"There are maskers on the canals at all hours, and if
Venice be so impertinent in her system of watchfulness,
thou knowest, Father, that, without extraordinary motive,
that disguise is sacred. Without this narrow privilege, the
town would not be habitable a day.”
“I fear the result;” observed the hesitating monk, while
it was evident, from the thoughtfulness of his countenance,
that he calculated the chances of the adventure. “If
known and arrested, we are all lost 1"
“Trust me, Father, that thy fortune shall not be for-
gotten, even in that unhappy issue. I have an uncle, as
you know, high in the favour of the pontiff, and who wears
the scarlet hat. I pledge to you the honour of a cavalier,
all my interest with this relative, to gain such intercession
from the church as shall weaken the blow to her servant."
The features of the Carmelite flushed, and, for the first
time, the ardent young noble observed around his ascetic
mouth an expression of worldly pride.
“Thou hast unjustly rated my apprehensions, Lord of
St. Agata,” he said; “I fear not for myself, but for others.
This tender and lovely child hath not been confided to my
care, without creating a parental solicitude in her behalf,
and”-he paused, and seemed to struggle with himself-
"I have too long known the mild and womanly virtues of
Donna Florinda, to witness, with indifference, her exposure
to a near and fearful danger. Abandon our charge, we
cannot; nor do I see in what manner, as prudent and
watchful guardians, we may in any manner consent to this


236
THE BRAVO.
risk. Let us hope that they who govern will yet consult
the honour and happiness of Donna Violetta."
“That were to hope the winged lion would become a
lamb, or the dark and soulless senate a community of self-
mortifying and godly Carthusians! No, reverend monk,
we must seize the happy moment, and none is likely to be
more fortunate than this, or trust our hopes to a cold and
calculating policy, that disregards all motives but its own
object. An hour, nay, half the time, would suffice to
apprise the mariner, and, ere the morning light, we might
see the domes of Venice sinking into their own hated
Lagunes.”
“ These are the plans of confident youth, quickened by
passion. Believe me, son, it is not easy as thou imaginest,
to mislead the agents of the police. This palace could not
be quitted, the felucca entered, or any one of the many
necessary steps hazarded, without drawing upon us their
eyes. Hark!—I hear the plash of oars-a gondola is even
now at the water-gate!"
Donna Florinda went hastily to the balcony, and as
quickly returned to report that she had seen an officer of
the republic enter the palace. There was no time to lose,
and Don Camillo was again urged to conceal himself in the
little oratory. This necessary caution had hardly been
observed, before the door of the room opened, and the pri-
vileged messenger of the senate announced his own ap-
pearance. It was the very individual who had presided at
the fearful execution of the fisherman, and who had
already announced the cessation of the Signor Gradenigo's
powers. His eye glanced suspiciously around the room, as
he entered, and the Carmelite trembled in every limb, at
the look which encountered his own. But all immediate
apprehension vanished, when the usual artful smile, with
which he was wont to soften his disagreeable communica-


THE BRAVO.
237
ADA
tions, took place of the momentary expression of a vague
and an habitual suspicion.
“Noble lady," he said, bowing with deference to the
rank of her he addressed, “you may learn by this assi-
duity, on the part of their servant, the interest which the
senate takes in your welfare. Anxious to do you pleasure,
and ever attentive to the wishes of one so young, it hath
been decided to give you the amusement and variety of
another scene, at a season when the canals of our city
become disagreeable, from their warmth and the crowds
which live in the air. I am sent to request you will make
such preparations, as may befit your convenience during a
few months' residence in a purer atmosphere, and that this
may be done speedily; as your journey, always to prevent
discomfort to yourself, will commence before the rising of
est
D
the sun.
har
ict
“This is short notice, Signore, for a female about to
quit the dwelling of her ancestors !"
“St. Mark suffers his love and parental care to over-
look the vain ceremonies of form. It is thus the parent
dealeth with the child. There is little need of unusual no-
tice, since it will be the business of the government to see
all that is necessary despatched to the residence, which is
to be honoured with the presence of so illustrious a
lady.”
“ For myself, Signore, little preparation is needed. But
I fear the train of servitors, that befit my condition, will
require more leisure for their arrangements. ”
· Lady, that embarrassment bath been foreseen, and
to remove it, the council hath decided to supply you with
the only attendant you will require, during an absence
from the city which will be so short.”
“How, Signore ! am I to be separated from my
people ?”
“ From the bired menials of your palace, lady, to be
92


238
THE BRAVO.
confided to those who will serve your person, from a nobler
motive."
“ And my maternal friend-my ghostly adviser ?”
They will be permitted to repose from their trusts,
during your absence.”
An exclamation from Donna Florinda, and an involun-
tary movement of the monk, betrayed their mutual con-
cern. Donna Violetta suppressed the exhibition of her
own resentment, and of her wounded affections, by a
powerful effort, in which she was greatly sustained by her
pride; but she could not entirely conceal the anguish of
another sort, that was seated in her eye.
“Do I understand that this probibition extends to her,
who, in common, serves my person
· Signora, such are my instructions."
“ Is it expected that Violetta Tiepolo will do these me-
nial offices for herself?”
Signora, no. A most excellent and agreeable at-
tendant has been provided for that duty. Annina,” he con-
tinued, approaching the door,“ thy noble mistress is impa-
tient to see thee.”
As he spoke, the daughter of the wine-seller appeared.
She wore an air of assumed humility, but it was accompa-
nied by a secret mien, that betrayed independence of the
pleasure of her new mistress.
And this damsel is to be my nearest confident!" ex-
claimed Donna Violetta, after studying the artful and de-
mure countenance of the girl, a moment, with a dislike she
did not care to conceal.
" Such hath been the solicitude of your illustrious guar-
dians, lady. As the damsel is instructed in all that is
necessary, I will intrude no longer, but take my leave, re-
commending that you improve the hours, which are now
few, between this and the rising sun, that you may profit
by the morning breeze in quitting the city.”


THE BRAVO.
239
The officer glanced another look around the room, more,
however, through habitual caution than any other reason,
bowed, and departed.
A profound and sorrowful silence succeeded. Then the
apprehension that Don Camillo might mistake their situ-
ation and appear, flashed upon the mind of Violetta, and
she hastened to apprise him of the danger, by speaking to
the new attendant.
“ Thou hast served before this, Annina ?" she asked so
loud, as to permit the words to be heard in the oratory.
“ Never a lady so beautiful and illustrious, Signora.
But I hope to make myself agreeable to one that I hear is
kind to all around her."
"Thou art not new to the flattery of thy class ; go then,
and acquaint my ancient attendants with this sudden reso-
lution, that I may not disappoint the council by tardiness.
I commit all to thy care, Annina, since thou knowest the
pleasure of my guardians—those without will furnish the
means.
The girl lingered, and her watchful observers noted sus-
picion and hesitation in her reluctant manner of compliance.
She obeyed, however, leaving the room with the domestic
Donna Violetta summoned from the ante-chamber. The
instant the door was closed behind her, Don Camillo was
in the group, and the whole four stood regarding each
other in a common panic.
“Canst thou still hesitate, Father?” demanded the
loyer.
“Not a moment, my son, did I see the means of accom-
plishing flight.”
“How! Thou wilt not then desert me!" exclaimed
Violetta, kissing his hands in joy. “ Nor thou, my second
mother !”
“Neither," answered the governess, who possessed in-
tuitive means of comprehending the resolutions of the


210
THE BRAVO.
monk; “we will go with thee, love, to the Castle of St.
Agata, or to the dungeon of St. Mark.”
“Virtuous and sainted Florinda, receive my thanks !"
cried the reprieved Violetta, clasping her hands on her
bosom, with an emotion in which piety and gratitude were
mingled.—“Camillo, we await thy guidance.”
Refrain," observed the monk,—"a footstep-thy con-
cealment.”
Don Camillo was scarce hid from view, when Annina
reappeared. She had the same suspicious manner of glanc-
ing her eye around, as the official; and it would seem, by
the idle question she put, that her entrance had some other
object than the mere pretence which she made of consult-
ing her new mistress's humour in the colour of a robe.
• Do as thou wilt, girl," said Violetta, with impatience;
“thou knowest the place of my intended retirement, and
capst judge of the fitness of my attire. Hasten thy prepa-
rations, that I be not the cause of delay. Enrico, attend
my new maid to the wardrobe.”
Annina reluctantly withdrew, for she was far too much
practised in wiles not to distrust this unexpected com-
pliance with the will of the council, or not to perceive that
she was admitted with displeasure to the discharge of her
new duties. As the faithful domestic of Donna Violetta
kept at her side, she was fain, however, to submit, and
suffered herself to be led a few steps from the door. Sud-
denly pretending to recollect a new question, she returned
with so much rapidity, as to be again in the room, before
Enrico could anticipate the intention.
“Daughter, complete thy errands, and forbear to in-
terrupt our privacy,” said the monk, sternly,~"I am
about to confess this penitent, who may pine long for the
consolations of the holy oflice, ere we meet again. If
thou hast not aught urgent, withdraw, ere thou seriously
givest offence to the church.'


THE BRAVO.
241
The severity of the Carmelite's tone, and the command-
ing, though subdued, gleaming of his eye, had the effect to
awe the girl. Quailing before his look, and in truth startled
at the risk she ran in offending against opinions so deeply
seated in the minds of all, and from which her own super-
stitious habits were far from free, she muttered a few
words of apology, and finally withdrew. There was an-
other uneasy and suspicious glance thrown around her,
however, before the door was closed. When they were once
more alone, the monk motioned for silence to the impe-
tuous Don Camillo, who could scarce restrain bis impa-
tience until the intruder departed.
“Son, be prudent,” he said ; " we are in the midst of
treachery; in this unhappy city none know in whom they
can confide."
“I think we are sure of Enrico," said the Donna Flo-
rinda, though the very doubts she affected not to feel, lin-
gered in the tones of her voice.
“It matters not, daughter.--He is ignorant of the pre-
sence of Don Camillo, and in that we are safe. Duke of
Sant' Agata, if you can deliver us from these toils, we will
accompany you.
A
cry of joy was near bursting from the lips of Violetta,
but, obedient to the eye of the monk, she turned to her lover,
as if to learn his decision. The expression of Don Camillo's
face was the pledge of his assent. Without speaking, he
wrote hastily, with a pencil, a few words on the envelope
of a letter, and enclosing a piece of coin in its folds, he
moved with a cautious step to the balcony. A signal was
given, and all awaited in breathless silence the answer.
Presently they heard the wash of the water, caused by the
movement of a gondola beneath the window. Stepping for-
ward again, Don Camillo dropped the paper with such
precision, that he distinctly heard the fall of the coin in the
bottom of the boat. The gondolier scarce raised his eyes
92
16


212
THE BRAVO.
to the balcony, but commencing an air much used on the
canals, he swept onward, like one whose duty called for no
haste.
“ That has succeeded !” said Don Camillo, when he
heard the song of Gino. “In an hour my agent will have
secured the felucca, and all now depends on our own means
of quitting the palace unobserved. My people will await
us, shortly, and perhaps 'twould be well to trust openly to
our speed in gaining the Adriatic."
" There is a solemn and necessary duty to perform,"
observed the monk;—“ daughters, withdraw to your rooms,
and occupy yourselves with the preparation necessary for
your flight, which may readily be made to appear as in-
tended to meet the senate's pleasure. In a few minutes I
shall summon you hither, again."
Wondering, but obedient, the females withdrew. The
Carmelite then made a brief but clear explanation of his in-
tention. Don Camillo listened eagerly, and when the
other had done speaking they retired together into the ora-
tory. Fiſteen minutes had not passed, before the monk
re-appeared, alone, and touched the bell, which commu-
dicated with the closet of Violetta. Donna Florinda and her
pupil were quickly in the room.
“Prepare thy mind for the confessional," said the priest,
placing himself, with grave dignity, in that chair which he
habitually used, when listening to the self-accusations and
failings of his spiritual child.
The brow of Violetta paled and flushed again, as if there
lay a heavy sin on her conscience. She turned an im-
ploring look on her maternal monitor, in whose mild fea-
tures she met an encouraging smile, and then, with a
beating heart, though ill-collected for the solemn duty, but
with a decision that the occasion required, she knelt on
the cushion at the feet of the monk.
The murmured language of Donna Violetta was audible


THE BRAVO
243
to none but him for whose paternal ear it was intended,
and that dread Being whose just anger it was hoped it might
lessen. But Don Camillo gazed, through the half-opened
door of the chapel, on the 'kneeling form, the clasped
hands, and the uplifted countenance of the beautiful peni-
tent. As she proceeded with the acknowledgment of her
errors, the flush on her cheek deepened, and a pious ex-
citement kindled in those eyes, which he had so lately seen
glowing with a very different passion. The ingenuous and
disciplined soul of Violetta was not so quickly disburthened
of its load of sin as that of the more practised mind of the
Lord of Sant'Agata. - The latter fancied that he could
trace in the movement of her lips the sound of his own
name,
and a dozen times during the confession, he thought
he could even comprehend sentences of which he himself
was the subject. Twice the good Father smiled, involun-
tarily, and at each indiscretion, he laid a hand in affection
on the bared head of the suppliant. But Violetta ceased
to speak, and the absolution was pronounced, with a fervour
that the remarkable circumstances, in which they all stood,
did not fail to heighten.
When this portion of his duty was ended, the Carmelite
entered the oratory. With steady hands he lighted the
candles of the altar, and made the other dispositions for
the mass. During this interval Don Camillo was at the
side of his mistress, whispering with the warmth of a
triumphant and happy lover. The governess stood near
the door, watching for the sound of footsteps in the ante-
chamber. The monk then advanced to the entrance of
the little chapel, and was about to speak, when a hurried
step from Donna Florinda arrested his words. Don Ca-
millo had just time to conceal his person within the
drapery of a window, before the door opened, and Annina
entered.
When the preparations of the altar and the solemn
16 *


244
THE BRAVO.
66
N
countenance of the priest first met her eye, the girl re-
coiled, with the air of one rebuked. But rallying her
thoughts, with that readiness which had gained her the
employment she filled, she crossed herself, reverently, and
took a place apart, like one who, while she knew her
station, wished to participate in the mysteries of the holy
office.
Daughter, none who commence this mass with us,
can quit the presence, ere it be completed;" observed the
monk.
Father, it is my duty to be near the person
of
my
mistress, and it is a happiness to be near it on the occcasion
of this early matin.”
The monk was embarrassed. He looked from one to the
other, in indecision, and was about to frame some pre-
tence to get rid of the intruder, when Don Camillo ap-
peared in the middle of the room.
“ Reverend monk, proceed,” he said ; " 'tis but another
witness of my happiness.”
While speaking, the noble touched the handle of his
sword, significantly, with a finger, and cast a look at the
half-petrified Annina, which effectually controlled the ex-
clamation that was about to escape her. The monk ap-
peared to understand the terms of this silent compact; for
with a deep voice he commenced the offices of the mass.
The singularity of their situation, the important results of
the act in which they were engaged, the impressive dignity
of the Carmelite, and the imminent hazard which they all
ran of exposure, together with the certainty of punishment
for their daring to thwart the will of Venice, if betrayed,
caused a deeper feeling, than that which usually pervades
a marriage ceremony, to preside at nuptials thus celebrated.
The youthful Violetta trenibled at every intonation of the
solemn voice of the monk, and towards the close, she
Jeaned in helplessness on the arm of the man to whom she


THE BRAVO.
245
1
bad just plighted- her vows. The eye of the Carmelite
kindled, as he proceeded with the office, however; and,
long ere he had done, he had obtained such a command
over the feelings of even Annina, as to hold her mercenary
spirit in awe. The final union was pronounced, and the
benediction given.
Maria, of pure memory, watch over thy happiness,
daughter !” said the monk, for the first time in his life
saluting the fair brow of the weeping bride.—“ Duke of
Sant' Agata, may thy patron hear thy prayers, as thou
provest kind to this innocent and confiding child !"
“ Amen !--Ha!-we are not too soon united, my Vio-
letta; I hear the sound of oars."
A glance from the balcony assured him of the truth of
his words, and rendered it apparent that it had now become
necessary to take the most decided step of all. A six-oared
gondola, of a size suited to endure the waves of the Adriatic
at that mild season, and with a pavilion of fit dimensions,
stopped at the water-gate of the palace.
“I wonder at this boldness!" exclaimed Don Camillo.
There must be no delay, lest some spy of the republic
apprise the police. Away, dearest Violetta-away, Donna
Florinda-Father, away !"
The governess and her charge passed swiftly into the
In a minute, they returned bearing the
caskets of Donna Violetta, and a sufficient supply of neces-
saries for a short voyage. The instant they re-appeared, all
was ready; for Don Camillo bad long held himself prepared
for this decisive moment, and the self-denying Carmelite
had little need of superfluities. It was no moment for un-
necessary explanations or trivial objections.
“Our hope is in celerity,” said Don Camillo; “secrecy
is impossible.
He was still speaking, when the monk led the way from
Donna Florinda and the half-breathless Vio-
inner rooms.
27
the room.


246
THE BRAVO.
1
letta followed; Don Camillo drew the arm of Annina under
his own, and in a low voice bid her, at her peril, refuse to
obey.
The long suite of outer rooms was passed, without meet-
ing a single observer of the extraordinary movement. But
when the fugitives entered the great hall, that communi-
cated with the principal stairs, they fouņd themselves in
the centre of a dozen menials of both sexes.
“Place,” cried the Duke of Sant'Agato, whose person
and voice were alike unknown to them. in Your mistress
will breathe the air of the canals.".
Wonder and curiosity were alive in every countenance,
but suspicion and eager attention were uppermost in the
features of many. The foot of Donna Violetta had scarcely
touched the pavement of the lower hall, when several
menials glided down the flight, and quitted the palace, by
its different outlets. Each sought those who had engaged
him in the service. One flew along the narrow streets of
the islands, to the residence of the Signor Gradenigo; an-
other sought his son: and one, ignorant of the person of
bim he served, actually searched an agent of Don Camillo,
to impart a circumstance in which that noble was himself
so conspicuous an actor. To such a pass of corruption had
double-dealing and mystery rendered the household of the
fairest and richest in Venice! The gondola lay at the
marble steps of the water-gate, held against the stones by
two of its crew. Don Camillo saw, at a glance, that the
masked gondoliers had neglected none of the precautions
he had prescribed, and he inwardly commended their
punctuality. Each wore a short rapier at his girdle, and
he fancied he could trace, beneath the folds of their gar-
ments, evidence of the presence of the clumsy fire-arms
in use at that period. These observations were made,
while the Carmelite and Violetta entered the boat. Donna
Florinda followed, and Annina was about to imitate her


THE BRAVO.
217
99
example, when she was arrested by the arm of Don Ga-
millo.
“ Thy service ends here," whispered the bridegroom.
“Seek another mistress; in fault of a better thou mayest
devote thyself to Venice.”
This little interruption caused Don Camillo to look back-
ward, and, for a single moment, he paused to scrutinize
the
group
of
eyes
that crowded the hall of the palace, at
a respectful distance.
“Adieu, my friends!” he added; “ Those among ye
who love your mistress shall be remembered.”
He would have said more, but a rude seizure of his arms
caused bim to turn hastily away. He was firm in the grasp
of the two gondoliers who had landed. While he was yet
in too much astonishment to struggle, Annina, obedient to
a signal, darted past him and leaped into the boat. The
oars fell into the water; Don Camillo was repelled by a
violent shove backward into the hall, the gondoliers step-
ped lightly into their places, and the gondola swept away
from the steps, beyond the power of him they left to
follow.
“Gino !-miscreant !—what means this treachery ?"
The movement of the parting gondola was accompanied
by no other sound than the usual washing of the water.
In speechless agony, Don Camillo saw the boat glide,
swifter and swifter at each stroke of the oars, along the
canal, and then, whirling round the angle of a palace,
disappear.
Venice admitted not of pursuit like another city, for
there was no passage along the canal taken by the gondola,
but by water.
Several of the boats used by the family,
lay within the piles on the great canal, at the principal en-
trance, and Don Camillo was about to rush into one, and
to seize its oars, with his own hands, when the usual sounds


248
THE BRAVO.
ch
announced the approach of a gondola from the direction
of the bridge, that had so long served as a place of conceal-
ment to his own domestic. It soon issued from the ob-
scurity, cast by the shadows of the houses, and proved to
be a large gondola pulled, like the one which had just dis-
appeared, by six masked gondoliers. The resemblance be-
tween the equipments of the two was so exact, that at first
not only the wondering Camillo, but all the others present,
fancied the latter, by some extraordinary speed, had already
made the tour of the adjoining palaces, and was once more
approaching the private entrance of that of Donna Vio-
letta.
“Gino!” cried the bewildered bridegroom.
“Signore mio ?" answered the faithful domestic.
“Draw nearer, varlet. What meaneth this idle trifling,
at a moment like this !”
Don Camillo leaped a fearful distance, and happily he
reached the gondola. To pass the men and to rush into
the canopy needed but a moment; to perceive that it was
empty was the work of a glance.
“ Villains, have you dared to be false !” cried the con-
founded noble.
At that instant the clock of the city began to tell the
hour of two, and it was only as that appointed signal
sounded heavy and melancholy on the night air, that the
undeceived Camillo got a certain glimpse of the truth.
Gino,” he said, repressing his voice, like one sum-
moning a desperate resolution-"Are thy fellows true ?"
“ As faithful as your own vassals, Signore.”
« And thou didst not fail to deliver the note to my
agent?”
“He had it, before the ink was dry, eccellenza.”
"The mercenary villain !-He told thee where to find
the gondola, equipped as I see it ?”


THE BRAVO.
249
« Pull away,
Signore, he did; and I will do the man the justice to
say that nothing is wanting, either to speed or comfort.”
“Ay, he even deals in duplicates, so tender is his care !"
muttered Don Camillo, between his teeth.
men; your own safety and my happiness now depend on
your arms.
A thousand ducats if you equal my hopes—
my just anger if you disappoint them !”
Don Camillo threw himself on the cushions as he spoke,
in bitterness of heart, though he seconded his words by a
gesture which bid the men proceed. Gino, who occupied
the stern and managed the directing dar, opened a small
window in the canopy, which communicated with the in-
terior, and bent to take his master's directions as the boat
sprang a-head. Rising from his stooping posture, the
practised gondolier gave a sweep with his blade, which
caused the sluggish element of the narrow canal to whirl in
eddies, and then the gondola glided into the great canal,
as if it obeyed an instinct.
2


250
THE BRAVO.
CHAPTER XVII.
“ Why liest thou so on the green earth ?
'Tis not the hour of slumber :-why so pale ?"
Cain.
NotWITHSTANDING bis apparent decision, the Duke of Sant'
Agata was completely at a loss in what manner to direct bis
future movements. That he had been duped, by one or
more of the agents, to whom he had been compelled to con-
fide his necessary preparations for the flight he had medi-
tated several days, was too certain to admit of his deceiving
himself with the hopes, that some unaccountable mistake
was the cause of his loss. He saw, at once, that the senate
was master of the person of his bride, and he too well knew
its power, and its utter disregard of human obligations, when
any paramount interest of the state was to be consulted, to
doubt for an instant its willingness to use its advantage, in
any manier that was most likely to contribute to its own
views. By the premature death of her uncle, Donna Vio-
letta had become the heiress of vast estates in the domi-
nions of the church, and a compliance with that jealous and
arbitrary law of Venice, which commanded all of its no-
tables to dispose of any foreign possessions they might ac-
quire, was only suspended on account of her sex, and, as
has already been seen, with the hope of disposing of her
hand in a manner that would prove more profitable to the
republic. With this object still before them, and with the
means of accomplishing it in their own hands, the bride-
groom well knew that his marriage would not only be de-


THE BRAVO.
251
nied, but he feared the witnesses of the ceremony would be
so disposed of, as to give little reason ever to expect em-
barrassment from their testimony. For himself, person-
ally, he felt less apprehension, though he foresaw that he
had furnished his opponents with an argument that was
likely to defer to an indefinable period, if it did not entirely
defeat, his claims to the disputed succession. But he had
already made up his mind to this result, though it is pro-
bable that his passion for Violetta had not entirely blinded
him to the fact, that her Roman signories would be no
unequal offset for the loss. He believed that he might pos-
sibly return to his palace with impunity, so far as any per-
sonal injury was concerned; for the great consideration he
enjoyed in his native land, and the high interest he pos-
sessed at the court of Rome, were sufficient pledges that no
open violence would be done him. The chief reason why
bis claim had been kept in suspense, was the wish to pro-
fit by his near connection with the favourite cardinal; and
though he had never been able entirely to satisfy the ever-
increasing demands of the council, in this respect, he
thought it probable that the power of the Vatican would
not be spared, to save him from any very imminent per-
sonal hazard. Still he had given the stale of Venice plau-
sible reasons for severity; and liberty, just at that moment,
was of so much importance, that he dreaded falling into the
hands of the officials, as one of the greatest misfortunes
which could momentarily overtake him. He so well knew
the crooked policy of those with whom he had to deal, that
he believed he might be arrested solely that the government
could make an especial merit of his future release, under
circumstances of so seeming gravity. His order to Gino,
therefore, had been to pull down the principal passage
toward the port.
Before the gondola, which sprung at each united effort
of its crew, like some bounding animal, entered among the


252
THE BRAVO.
on
22
shipping, its master had time to recover his self-possession,
and to form some hasty plans for the future. Making a
signal for the crew to cease rowing, he came from beneath
the canopy. Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour,
boats were plying on the water within the town, and the
song was still audible
the canals. But among the ma-
riners a general stillness prevailed, such as befitted their
toil during the day, and their ordinary habits.
Call the first idle gondolier of thy acquaintance hither,
Gino," said Don Camillo, with assumed calmness; “ I would
question him."
In less than a minute he was gratified.
“Hast seen any strongly manned gondola plying, of late,
in this part of the canal ??? demanded Don Camillo, of the
man they had stopped.
“None, but this of your own, Signore; which is the
fastest of all that passed beneath the Rialto, in this day's
regatta.”
“ How knowest thou, friend, aught of the speed of my
boat?"
Signore, I have pulled an oar on the canals of Venice
six-and-twenty years, and I do not remember to have seen
a gondola move more swiftly on them than did this very
boat but a few minutes ago, when it dashed among the
feluccas, further down in the port, as if it were again run-
ning for the oar. Corpo di Bacco ! There are rich wines
in the palaces of the nobles, that men can give such life
to wood !”
Whither did we steer?” eagerly asked Don Camillo.
“Blessed San Teodoro ! I do not wonder, eccellenza,
that you ask that question, for though it is but a moment
since, here I see you lying as motionless on the water as
a floating weed !”
“ Friend, here is silver--addio."
The gondolier swept slowly onward, singing a strain in


THE BRAVO.
203
honour of his bark, while the boat of Don Camillo darted
a-head. Mistick, felucca, xebec, brigantine, and three-masted
ship, were apparently floating past them, as they shot
through the maze of shipping, when Gino bent forward and
drew the attention of his master to a large gondola, which
was pulling with a lazy oar toward them, from the direction
of the Lido. Both boats were in a wide avenue in the midst
of the vessels, the usual track of those who went to sea,
and there was no object whatever between them. By
changing the course of his own boat, Don Camillo soon
found himself within an oar's length of the other. He saw,
at a glance, it was the treacherous gondola by which he
had been duped.
"Draw, men, and follow !" shouted the desperate Nea-
politan, preparing to leap into the midst of his enemies.
"You draw against St. Mark !” cried a warning voice
from beneath the canopy.
- The chances are unequal,
Signore ; for the smallest signal would bring twenty galleys
to our succour.”
Don Camillo might have disregarded this menace, had he
not perceived that it caused the half-drawn rapiers of his
followers to return into their scabbards.
“Robber!” he answered, “ restore her whom you have
spirited away.”
“Signore, you young nobles are often pleased to play
your extravagances with the servants of the republic. Here
are none but the gondoliers and myself.” A movement of
the boat permitted Don Camillo to look into the covered
part, and he saw that the other uttered no more than the
truth. Convinced of the uselessness of further parley,
knowing the value of every moment, and believing he was
on a track which might still lead to success, the young
Neapolitan signed to his people to go on. The boats parted
in silence, that of Don Camillo proceeding in the direction
from which the other had just come.
72


254
THE BRAVO.
In a short time the gondola of Don Camillo was in an
open part of the Guidecca, and entirely beyond the tiers of
the shipping. It was so late that the moon had begun to
fall, and its light was cast obliquely on the bay, throwing
the eastern sides of the buildings and the other objects
into shadow. A dozen different vessels were seen, aided
by the land-breeze, steering towards the entrance of the
port. The rays of the moon fell upon the broad surfaces
of those sides of their canvass which were nearest to the
town, and they resembled so many spotless clouds, sweep-
ing the water and floating seaward.
They are sending my wife to Dalmatia !” cried Don
Camillo, like a man on whom the truth began to dawn.
“Signore mio!” exclaimed the astonished Gino.
“I tell thee, sirrah, that this accursed senate hath plotted
against my happiness, having robbed me of thy mistress,
hath employed one of the many feluccas that I see, to trans-
port her to some of its strong-holds, on the eastern coast of
the Adriatic."
“Blessed Maria ! Signor Duca, and my honoured master;
they say that the very imares of stone in Venice have ears, ,
and that the horses of bronze will kick, if an evil word is
spoken against those
up
above."
"Is it not enough, varlet, to draw curses from the meek
Job, to rob him of a wiſe ? Hast thou no feeling for thy
mistress ???
"I did not dream, eccellenza, that you were so happy
as to have the one, or that I was so honoured as to have
the other.”
“Thou remindest me of my folly, good Gino. In aiding
me on this occasion, thou will have thy own fortune in
view, as thy efforts, like those of all thy fellows, will be
made in behalf of the lady to whom I have just plighted a
husband's vow.
“San Teodoro help us all, and hint what is to be done!
2
6
99


THE BRAVO.
255
The lady is most happy, Signor Don Camillo, and if I only
knew by what name to mention her, she should never be
forgotten in any prayer that so humble a sinner might dare
to offer.'
Thou hast not forgotten the beautiful lady I drew from
the Guidecca ?”
Corpo di Bacco! Your eccellenza floated like a swan,
and swam faster than a gull. Forgotten! Signore, no!-I
think of it every time I hear a plash in the canals, and every
time I think of it I curse the Ancona-man in my
heart. St.
Theodore forgive me, if it be unlike a Christian to do so.
But, though we all tell marvels of what our lord did in the
Guidecca, the dip of its waters is not the marriage-ceremony,
nor can we speak with much certainty of beauty, that was
seen to so great disadvantage.
"Thou art right, Gino.—But that lady, the illustrious
Donna Violetta Tiepolo, the daughter and heiress of a famed
senator, is now thy mistress. It remains for us to establish
her in the Castle of Sant' Agata, where I shall defy Venice
22
and its agents."
Gino bowed his head in submission, though he cast a look
behind, to make sure that none of those agents, whom his
master set so openly at defiance, were within ear-shot.
In the mean time the gondola proceeded, for the dialogue
in
no manner interrupted the exertions of Gino, still hold-
ing the direction of the Lido. As the land-breeze freshened,
the different vessels in sight glided away, and by the time
Don Camillo reached the barrier of sand, which separates
the Lagunes from the Adriatic, most of them had glided
through the passages, and were now shaping their courses,
according to their different destinations, across the open
gulf. The young noble had permitted his people to pursue
the direction originally taken, in pure indecision. He was
certain that his bride was in one of the many barks in sight,
but he possessed no clue to lead him towards the right one,


256
THE BRAVO.
$
nor any sufficient means of pursuit, were bę even master of
that important secret. When he landed, therefore, it was
with the simple hope of being able to form some general
conjecture as to the portion of the republic's dominions, in
which he might search for her he had lost, by observing to
what part of the Adriatic the different feluccas held their
way.
He had determined on immediate pursuit, however,
and before he quitted the gondola, he once more turned to
his confidential gondolier to give the necessary instruc-
tions.
“ Thou knowest, Gino," he said, “ that there is one
born a vassal on my estates, here in the port, with a felucca
from the Sorrentine shore ?"
“ I know the man better than I know my own faults,
Signor, or even my own virtues."
Go to him, at once, and make sure of his presence.
I have imagined a plan to decoy him into the service of his
lord; but I would now know the condition of his vessel."
Gino said a few words in commendation of the zeal of his
friend Stefano, and in praise of the Bella Sorrentina, as the
gondola receded from the shore; and then he dashed his
oar into the water, like a man in earnest to execute the
commission.
There is a lonely spot on the Lido di Palestrina, where
catholic exclusion has decreed that the remains of all who
die in Venice, without the pale of the church of Rome,
shall moulder into their kindred dust. Though it is not
distant from the ordinary landing and the few buildings
which line the shore, it is a place that, in itself, is no bad
emblem of a hopeless lot. Solitary, exposed equally to the
hot airs of the south and the bleak blasts of the Alps, fre-
quently covered with the spray of the Adriatic, and based
on barren sands, the utmost that human art, aided by a soil
which has been fattened by human remains, can do, has
been to create around the modest graves a meagre vegeta-


THE BRAVO.
257
tion, that is in slight contrast to the sterility of most of the
bank. This place of interment is without the relief of trees,
at the present day it is unenclosed, and, in the opinions of
those who have set it apart for heretic and Jew, it is
unblessed. And yet, though condemned alike to this, the
last indignity which man can inflict on his fellow, the two
proscribed classes furnish a melancholy proof of the way-
wardness of human passions and prejudice, by refusing to
share, in common, the scanty piltance of earth which bi-
gotry has allowed for their everlasting repose! While the
protestant sleeps by the side of protestant in exclusive oblo-
quy, the children of Israel moulder apart on the same barren
heath, sedulous to preserve, even in the grave, the outward
distinctions of faith. We shall not endeavour to seek that
deeply seated principle which renders man so callous to the
most eloquent and striking appeals to liberality, but rest
satisfied with being grateful that we have been born in a land,
in which the interests of religion are as little as possible sul-
lied by the vicious contamination of those of life; in which
Christian humility is not exhibited beneath the purple, nor
Jewish adhesion by intolerance; in which man is left to care
for the welfare of his own soul, and in which, so far as the
human
eye can penetrate, God is worshipped for himself.
Don Camillo Monforte landed near the retired graves of
the proscribed. As he wished to ascend the low sand-hills,
wbich have been thrown up by the waves and the winds of
the gulf, on the outer edge of the Lido, it was necessary
that he should pass directly across the contemned spot, or
make such a circuit as would have been inconvenient.
Crossing himself, with a superstition that was interwoven
with all his babits and opinions, and loosening his rapier, in
order that he might not miss the succour of that good wea-
pon, at need, he moved across the heath tenanted by the
despised dead, taking care to avoid the mouldering heaps of
17


258
THE BRAVO.
1
earth which lay above the bones of heretic or Jew. He had
not threaded more than half the graves, however, when a
human form arose from the grass, and seemed to walk like
one who mused on the moral that the piles at his feet would
be apt to excite. Again Don Camillo touched the handle
of bis rapier; then moving aside, in a manner to give him-
self an equal advantage from the light of the moon, he drew
near the stranger. His footstep was heard, for the other
paused, regarded the approaching cavalier, and folding his
arms, as it might be in sign of neutrality, awaited his nearer
approach.
“Thou hast chosen a melancholy bour for thy walk, Si-
gnore," said the young Neapolitan ; "and a still more me-
lancholy scene. I hope I do not intrude on an Israelite,
or a Lutheran, who mourns for his friend?"
“Don Camillo Monforte, I am, like yourself, a Christian."
“Ha! Thou knowest me—'tis Battista, the gondolier
that I once entertained in my household !"
Signore, 'tis not Battista."
As he spoke, the stranger faced the moon, in a manner
that threw all of its mild light upon his features.
Jacopo !” exclaimed the duke, recoiling, as did all in
Venice habitually, when that speaking eye was unexpectedly
met.
“Signore-Jacopo."
In a moment the rapier of Don Camillo glittered in the
rays of the moon.
• Keep thy distance, fellow, and explain the motive that
hath brought thee thus across my solitude !"
The Bravo smiled, but his arms maintained their fold.
“I might, with equal justice, call upon the Duke of
Sant'Agata to furnish reasons, why he wanders at this
hour among the Hebrew graves. "
· Nay, spare thy pleasantry; I trifle not with men of thy


THE BRAVO.
259
reputation; if any in Venice have thought fit to employ
thee against my person, thou wilt have need of all thy cou-
rage and skill, ere thou earnest thy fee."
“Put up the rapier, Don Camillo; here is none to do
you harm. Think you, if employed in the manner you
name, I would be in this spot to seek you ? Ask yourself
whether your visit here was known, or whether it was more
than the idle caprice of a young noble, who finds his bed
less easy than his gondola. We have met, Duke of Sant' '
Agata, when you distrusted my honour less."
"Thou speakest true, Jacopo;" returned the noble, suf-
fering the point of his rapier to fall from before the breast
of the Bravo, though he still hesitated to withdraw the
blade. “Thou sayest the truth. My visit to this spot is
indeed accidental, and thou couldst not have possibly fore-
seen it. Why art thou here?
Why are these here?” demanded Jacopo, pointing to
the graves at his feet.
“We are born, and we die—that
much is known to us all; but the when and the where are
mysteries, until time reveals them."
“Thou art not a man to act without good motive.
Though these Israelites could not foresee their visit to the
Lido, thine hath not been without intention.”
“I am here, Don Camillo Monforte, because my spirit
hath need of room. I want tbe air of the sea—the canals
choke me--I can only breathe in freedom on this bank of
sand !".
“Thou hast another reason, Jacopo P”
Ay, Signore- I loathe yon city of crimes !"
As the Bravo spoke, he shook his hand in the direction
of the domes of St. Mark, and the deep tones of his voice
appeared to heave up from the depths of his chest.
“This is extraordinary language for a--"
“Bravo; speak the word boldly, Signore—it is no stran-
ger to my ears. But even the stiletto of a bravo is honour-
17 *


260
THE BRAVO.
IN
>>
1
able, compared to that sword of pretended justice which
St. Mark wields ! The commonest hireling of Italy–he who
will plant his dagger in the heart of his friend for two se-
quins, is a man of open dealing, compared to the merciless
treachery of some in yonder town!”
"I understand thee, Jacopo; thou art, at length, pro-
scribed. The public voice, faint as it is in the republic,
has finally reached the ears of thy employers, and they
withdraw their protection.”
Jacopo regarded the noble, for an instant, with an ex-
pression so ambiguous, as to cause the latter insensibly to
raise the point of his rapier, but when he answered, it was
with his ordinary quiet.
Signor Duca,” he said, “I have been thought worthy
to be retained by Don Camillo Monforte !"
“I deny it not—and now that thou recallest the occa-
sion, new light breaks in upon me. Villain, to thy faith-
lessness I owe the loss of my bride !"
Though the rapier was at the very throat of Jacopo, he
did not flinch. Gazing at his excited companion, he laughed
in a smothered manner, but bitterly.
“It would seem that the Lord of Sant'Agata wishes to
rob me of my trade,” he said. “ Arise, ye Israelites, and
bear witness, lest men doubt the fact! A common bravo
of the canals is waylaid, among your despised graves, by
the proudest Signor of Calabria! You have chosen your
spot, in mercy, Don Camillo, for sooner or later this
crumbling and sea-worn earth is to receive me. Were I to
die at the altar itself, with the most penitent prayer of holy
church on my lips, the bigots would send my body to rest
among these hungry Hebrews and accursed heretics. Yes,
I am a man proscribed, and unfit to sleep with the
faithful !”
His companion spoke with so strange a mixture of irony
and melancholy, that the purpose of Don Camillo wavered.


THE BRAVO.
261
But remembering his loss, he shook the rapier's point, and
continued :
Thy taunts and effrontery will not avail thee, knave,”
he cried, “Thou knowest that I would have engaged thee
as the leader of a chosen band, to favour the flight of one
dear to me from Venice."
"Nothing more true, Signore.??
"And thou didst refuse the service ?"
“Noble duke, I did.”
“Not content with this, having learned the particulars of
my project, thou soldest the secret to the senate ?"
“Don Camillo Monforte, I did not. My engagements
with the council would not permit me to serve you; else,
by the brightest star of yonder vault! it would have glad-
dened my heart to have witnessed the happiness of two
young and faithful lovers. No-no-no; they know me
not, who think I cannot find pleasure in the joy of another.
I told
you that I was the senate's,--and there the matter
ended.”
And I had the weakness to believe thee, Jacopo, for
thou hast a character so strangely compounded of good and
evil, and bearest so fair a name for observance of thy faith,
that the seeming frankness of the answer lulled me to se-
curity. Fellow, I have been betrayed, and that at the
moment when I thought success most sure.
Jacopo manifested interest, but, as he moved slowly on,
accompanied by the vigilant and jealous noble, he smiled
coldly, like one who had pity for the other's credulity.
“In bitterness of soul, I have cursed the whole race for
its treachery;" continued the Neapolitan.
“This is rather for the prior of St. Mark, than for the
ear of one who carries a public stiletto.”
“My gondola has been imitated—the liveries of my
people copied-my bride stolen.---Thou answerest not,
Jacopo ?”


262
THE BRAVO.
1
5
What answer would you have! You have been
cozened, Signore, in a state, whose very prince dare not
trust his secrets to his wife. You would have robbed
Venice of au heiress, and Venice has robbed you of a bride.
You have played high, Don Camillo, and have lost a heavy
stake. You have thought of your own wishes and rights,
while you have pretended to serve Venice with the
Spaniard.
Don Camillo started in surprise.
Why this wonder, Signore ?-You forget that I have
lived much among those who weigh the chances of every
political interest, and that your name is often in their
mouths. This marriage is doubly disagreeable to Venice,
who has nearly as much need of the bridegroom as of
the bride. The council hath long ago forbidden the banns."
Ay—but the means ?-explain the means by which I
have been duped, lest the treachery be ascribed to thee."
Signore, the very marbles of the city give up their
secrets to the state. I have seen much, and understood
much, when my superiors have believed me merely a tool ;
but I have seen much that even those who employed me
could not comprehend. I could have 'foretold this con-
summation of your nuptials, had I known of their cele-
bration."
“ This thou couldst not have done, without being an
agent of their treachery."
“ The schemes of the selfish may be foretold; it is only
those of the generous and the honest that baffle calculation.
He who can gain a knowledge of the present interest of Venice
is master of her dearest secrets of state ; for what she wishes
she will do, unless the service cost too dear. As for the
means-how can they be wanting in a household like
yours, Signore ?"
“ I trusted none but those deepest in my confidence.”
“ Don Camillo, there is not a servitor in your palace,
D


THE BRAVO.
i 263
Gino alone excepted, who is not a bireling of the senate, or
of its agents. The very gondoliers, who row you to your
daily pleasures, have had their hands crossed with the re-
public's sequins. Nay, they are not only paid to watch
you, but to watch each other.'
Can this be true !"
“ Have you ever doubted it, Signore ?” asked Jacopo,
looking up like one who admired at another's simplicity.
I knew them to be false-pretenders to a faith that
in secret they mock; but I had not believed they dared to
tamper with the very menials of my person. This un-
dermining of the security of families, is to destroy society
at its core !
You talk like one who hath not been long a bride-
groom, Signore;” said the Bravo, with a hollow laugh.
“ A year hence, you may know what it is to have your
own wife turning your secret thoughts into gold.”
“And thou servest them, Jacopo ?”
Who does not, in some manner suited to his habits ?
We are not masters of fortune, Don Camillo, or the Duke
of Sant'Agata would not be turning his influence with a
relative, to the advantage of the republic. What I have
done hath not been done without bitter penitence, and an
agony of soul, that your own light servitude may have
spared you, Signore.”
“ Poor Jacopo !”
If I have lived through it all, 'tis because one mightier
than the state hath not deserted me. But, Don Camillo
Monforte, there are crimes which pass beyond the powers
of man to endure."
The Bravo shuddered, and he moved among the despised
graves, in silence.
They have then proved too ruthless even for thee ?”
said Don Camillo, who watched the contracting eye and
heaving form of his companion, in wonder.


264
THE BRAVO.
Signore, they have. I have witnessed, this night, a
proof of their heartlessness and bad faith, that hath caused
me to look forward to my own fate. The delusion is
over;
from this hour I serve them no longer."
The Bravo spoke with deep feeling, and his companion
fancied, strange as it was coming from such a man, with
an air of wounded integrity. Don Camillo knew that there
was no condition of life, however degraded or lost to the
world, which had not its own particular opinions of the
faith due to its fellows; and he had seen enough of the si.
nuous course of the oligarchy of Venice, to understand that it
was quite possible its shameless and irresponsible duplicity
might offend the principles of even an assassin. Less odium
was attached to men of that class, in Italy and at that day,
than will be easily imagined in a country like this; for the
radical defects and the vicious administration of the laws,
caused an irritable and sensitive people too often to take into
their own hands the right of redressing their own wrongs.
Custom had lessened the odium of the crime, and though
society denounced the assassin himself, it is scarcely too
much to say, that his employer was regarded with little
more disgust than the religious of our time regard the sur-
vivor of a private combat. Still it was not usual for nobles
like Don Camillo to hold intercourse, beyond that which
the required service exacted, with men of Jacopo's cast ;
but the language and manner of the Bravo so strongly at-
tracted the curiosity, and even the sympathy of his compa-
nion, that the latter unconsciously sheathed his rapier and
drew nearer.
“Thy penitence and regrets, Jacopo, may lead thee yet
nearer to virtue,” he said, “ than mere abandonment of
the senate's service. Seek out some godly priest, and ease
thy soul, by confession and prayer.”
The Bravo trembled in every limb, and his eye turned
wistfully to the countenance of the other.


THE BRAVO.
265
Speak, Jacopo; even I will hear thee, if thou wouldst
remove the mountain from thy breast."
" Thanks, noble Signore l a thousand thanks for this
glimpse of sympathy, to which I have long been a stranger!
None know how dear a word of kindness is, as he who has.
been condemned by all, as I have been. I have prayed
- bave craved—I have wept for some ear to listen to my
tale, and I thought I had found one who would have heard
me without scorn, when the cold policy of the senate struck
him. I came here to commune with the hated dead, when
chance brought us together. Could I—"the Bravo paused
and looked doubtfully, again, at his companion.
"Say on, Jacopo."
“I have not dared to trust my secrets even to the con-
fessional, Signore, and can I be so bold as to offer them to
you pas
"Truly, it is a strange behest!”
Signore, it is. You are noble, I am of humble blood.
Your ancestors were senators and doges of Venice, while
mine have been, since the fishermen first built their huts
in the Lagunes, labourers on the canals, and rowers of
gondolas. You are powerful, and rich, and courted; while
I am denounced and, in secret, I fear condemned. In
short, you are Don Camillo Monforte, and I am Jacopo
Frontoni!”
Don Camillo was touched, for the Bravo spoke without
bitterness, and in deep sorrow.
“I would thou wert at the confessional, poor Jacopo !”
he said; “I am little able to give ease to such a burthen.”
Signore, I have lived too long, shut out from the good
wishes of my fellows, and I can hear with it no longer,
The accursed senale may cut me off without warning, and
then who will stop to look at my grave ? Signore, I must
speak, or die !"


266
THE BRAVO,
.
“Thy case is piteous, Jacopo !—Thou hast need of
ghostly counsel.”
“Here is no priest, Signore, and I carry a weight past
bearing. The only man who has shown interest in me,
for three long and dreadful years, is gone !"
“But he will return, poor Jacopo.
Signore, he will never return. He is with the fishes
of the Lagunes.
“By thy hand, monster!"
“By the justice of the illustrious republic !" said the
Bravo, with a smothered but bitter smile.
“Ha! they are then awake to the acts of thy class ? Thy
repentance is the fruit of fear !”
Jacopo seemed choked. He had evidently counted on
the awakened sympathy of his companion, notwithstanding
the difference in their situations, and to be thus thrown
off again, unmanned him. He shuddered, and every
muscle and nerve appeared about to yield its power.
Touched by so unequivocal signs of suffering, Don Camillo
kept close at his side, reluctant to enter more deeply into
the feelings of one of his known character, and yet unable
to desert a fellow creature in so grievous agony.
“Signor Duca," said the Bravo, with a pathos in his
voice that went to the heart of his auditor, “ leave me. If
they ask for a proscribed man, let them come here ; in the
morning they will find my body near the graves of the he-
retics.”
“Speak, I will hear thee."
Jacopo looked up with doubt expressed on his features.
“ Unburthen thyself; I will listen, though thou recount-
ed the assassination of my dearest friend."
The oppressed Bravo gazed at him, as if he still distrust-
ed his sincerity. His face worked, and his look became
still more wistful; but as Don Camillo faced the moon, and


THE BRAVO.
267
betrayed the extent of his sympathy, the other burst into
tears.
“Jacopo, I will hear thee-I will hear thee, poor Ja-
copo ! !” cried Don Camillo, shocked at this exhibition of
distress in one so stern by nature. A wave from the hand
of the Bravo silenced bim, and Jacopo, struggling with
himself for a moment, spoke.
“You have saved a soul from perdition, Signore,” he
said, smothering his emotion. “ If the happy knew how
much power belongs to a single word of kindness—a glance
of feeling, when given to the despised, they would not look
so coldly on the miserable. This night must have been
my last, had you cast me off without pity-but you will
hear my tale, Signore-you will not scorn the confession
of a Bravo ?"
“I have promised. Be brief, for at this moment I have
great care of my own."
Signore, I know not the whole of your wrongs, but
they will not be less likely to be redressed for this grace.'
Jacopo made an effort to command himself, when he
commenced his tale.
The course of the narrative does not require that we
should accompany this extraordinary man, through the re-
lation of the secrets he imparted to Don Camillo. It is
enough, for our present purposes, to say, that, as he pro-
ceeded, the young Calabrian noble drew nearer to bis side,
and listened with growing interest. The Duke of Sant'
Agata scarcely breathed, while his companion, with that
energy of language and feeling which marks Italian charac-
ter, recounted his secret sorrows, and the scenes in which
he had been an actor.
Long before he was done, Don
Camillo had "forgotten his own private causes of concern,
and, by the time the tale was finished, every shade of dis-
gust had given place to an ungovernable expression of pity.
In short, so eloquent was the speaker, and so interesting


268
THE BRAVO.
.
the facts with which he dealt, that he seemed to play with
the sympathies of his listener, as the improvisatore of that
region is known to lead captive the passions of the admir-
ing crowd.
During the time Jacopo was speaking, he and his wonder-
ing auditor had passed the limits of the despised cemetery;
and as the voice of the former ceased, they stood on the
outer beach of the Lido. When the low tones of the Bravo
were no longer audible, they were succeeded by the sullen
wash of the Adriatic.
“ This surpasseth belief !” Don Camillo exclaimed, after
a long pause, which had only been disturbed by the rush
and retreat of the waters.
“Signore, as holy Maria is kind ! it is true.”
“ I doubt you not, Jacopo-poor Jacopo ! I cannot dis-
trust a tale thus told! Thou hast, indeed, been a victim
of their hellish duplicity; and well mayst thou say, the load
was past bearing. What is thy intention ?”.
I serve them no longer, Don Camillo—I wait only for
the last solemn scene, which is now certain, and then I
quit this city of deceit, to seek my fortune in another re-
gion. They have blasted my youth, and loaded my name
with infamy.—God may yet lighten the load !”
Reproach not thyself beyond reason, Jacopo, for the
happiest and most fortunate of us all are not above the
power of temptation. Thou knowest that even my name and
rank have not, altogether, protected me from their arts."
“ I know them capable, Signore, of deluding angels !
Their arts are only surpassed by their means, and their
pretence of virtue by their indifference to its practice.'
“ Thou sayest true, Jacopo : the truth is never in
greater danger, than when whole communities lend them-
selves to the vicious deception of seemliness, and without
truth there is no virtue. This it is to substitute profession
for practice-to use the altar for a worldly purpose--and
LE


THE BRAVO.
269
to bestow power without any other responsibility than that
which is exacted by the selfishness of caste! Jacopo-poor
Jacopo! thou shalt be my servitor–I am lord of my own
seignories, and once rid of this specious republic, I charge
myself with the care of thy safety and fortunes. Be at peace
as respects thy conscience : I have interest near the holy
see, and thou shalt not want absolution !"
** The gratitude of the Bravo was more vivid in feeling than
in expression. He kissed the hand of Don Camillo, but it
was with a reservation of self-respect, that belonged to the
character of the man.
"A system like this of Venice," continued the musing
noble, “ leaves none of us masters of our own acts. The
wiles of such a combination are stronger than the will. It
cloaks its offences against right in a thousand specious
forms, and it enlists the support of every man, under the
pretence of a sacrifice for the common good. We often
fancy ourselves simple dealers in some justifiable state in-
trigue, when in truth we are deep in sin. Falsehood is the
parent of all crimes; and in no case has it a progeny so nu-
merous, as that in which its own birth is derived from the
stale. I fear I may have made sacrifices to this treache-
rous influence, I could wish forgotten.
Though Don Camillo soliloquized, rather than addressed
his companion, it was evident, by the train of his thoughts,
that the narrative of Jacopo had awakened disagreeable
reflections, on the manner in which he had pushed his own
claims with the senate. Perhaps be felt the necessity of
some apology to one who, though so much his inferior in
rank, was so competent to appreciate his conduct, and who
had just denounced, in the strongest language, his own fatal
subserviency to the arts of that irresponsible and mere-
tricious body.
Jacopo uttered a few words of a general nature, but such


270
THE BRAVO.
as had a tendency to quiet the uneasiness of his companion;
after which, with a readiness that proved him qualified for
the many delicate missions with which he had been charged,
be ingeniously turned the discourse to the recent abduction
of Donna Violetta, with the offer of rendering his new em-
ployer all the services in his power to regain his bride.
“That thou mayst know all thou hast undertaken," re-
joined Don Camillo, “ listen, Jacopo, and I will conceal
nothing from thy shrewdness."
The Duke of Sant'Agata now briefly, but explicitly, laid
bare to his companion all his own views and measures,
with respect to her he loved, and all those events, with which
the reader has already become acquainted.
The Bravo gave great attention to the minutest parts of
the detail; and more than once, as the other proceeded, he
smiled to himself, like a man who was able to trace the
secret means, by which this or that intrigue had been
effected. The whole was just related, when the sound of
a footstep announced the return of Gino.
A
E


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271
CHAPTER XVIII.
“ Pale she look'd,
Yet cheerful; thongh methought, once, if not twice,
She wiped away a tear that would be coming.”
ROGERS.
1
Tae hours passed as if nought had occurred, within the
barriers of the city, to disturb their progress. On the fol-
lowing morning men proceeded to their several pursuits, of
business or of pleasure, as had been done for ages, and
none stopped to question his neighbour of the scenes which
might have taken place during the night. Some were gay,
and others sorrowing; some idle, and others occupied; here
one toiled, there another sported; and Venice presented,
as of wont, its noiseless, suspicious, busy, mysterious, and
yet stirring throngs, as it had before done at a thousand
similar risings of the sun.
The menials lingered around the water-gate of Donna
Violetta's palace, with distrustful but cautious faces, searce
whispering among themselves their secret suspicions of
the fate of their mistress. The residence of the Signor
Gradenigo presented its usual gloomy magnificence, while
the abode of Don Camillo Monforte betrayed no sign of
the heavy disappointment which its master had sustained.
The Bella Sorrentina still lay in the port, with a yard on
deck, while the crew repaired its sail in the lazy manner of
mariners, who work without excitement.
The Lagunes were dotted with the boats of fishermen,
and travellers arrived and departed from the city, by the
well-known channels of Fusina and Mestre. Here, some


272
THE BRAVO.
adventurer from the north quitted the canals, on his return
towards the Alps, carrying with him a pleasing picture of
the ceremonies he had witnessed, mingled with some crude
conjectures of that power which predominated in the
suspected state ; and there, a countryman of the main
sought his little farm, satisfied with the pageants and
regatta of the previous day. In short, all seemed as usual,
and the events we have related remained a secret with the
actors, and that mysterious council which had so large
share in their existence.
As the day advanced, many a sail was spread for the
pillars of Hercules, or the genial Levant; and feluccas,
misticks and golettas, went and came, as the land or sea-
breeze prevailed. Still the mariner of Calabria lounged.
beneath the awning which sheltered his deck, or took his
siesta on a pile of old sails, which were ragged with the
force of many a hot sirocco. As the sun fell, the gon-
dolas of the great and idle began to glide over the water; '
and when the two squares were cooled by the air of the
Adriatic, the Broglio began to fill with those privileged to
pace its vaulted passage. Among these came the Duke of
Sant' Agata, who, though an alien to the laws of the re-
public, being of so illustrious descent, and of claims so
equitable, was received among the senators, in their mo-
ments of ease, as a welcome sbarer in this vain distinction.
He entered the Broglio at the wonted hour, and with his
usual composure, for he trusted to his secret influence at
Rome, and something to the success of his rivals, for im-
punity. Reflection had shown Don Camillo that, as his
plans were known to the council, they would long since
have arrested him, had such been their intention; and it
had also led him to believe, that the most efficient manner
of avoiding the personal consequences of his adventure,
was to show confidence in his own power to withstand
them. When he appeared, therefore, leaning on the arm


THE BRAVO.
273
of a high officer of the papal embassy, and with an eye that
spoke assurance in himself, he was greeted, as usual, by all
who knew him, as was due to his rank and expectations.
Still Don Camillo walked among the patricians of the re-
public with novel sensations. More than once he thought he
detected, in the wandering glances of those with whom he
conversed, signs of their knowledge of his frustrated at-
tempt; and more than once, when he least suspected
such scrutiny, his countenance was watched, as if the
observer sought some evidence of his future intentions.
Beyond this, none might have discovered that an heiress of
so much importance had been so near being lost to the
state, or, on the other hand, that a bridegroom had been
robbed of his bride. Habitual art, on the part of the state,
and resolute but wary intention, on the part of the young
noble, concealed all else from observation.
In this manner the day passed, not a tongue in Venice,
beyond those which whispered in secret, making any állu-
sion to the incidents of our tale.
Just as the sun was setting, a gondola swept slowly up
to the water-gate of the ducal palace. The gondolier
landed, fastened his boat in the usual manner to the step-
ping stones, and entered the court. He wore a mask, for
the hour of disguise had come, and his attire was so like
the ordinary fashion of men of his class, as to defeat re-
cognition by its simplicity. Glancing an eye about him,
he entered the building by a private door.
The edifice in which the Doges of Venice dwelt still
stands a gloomy monument of the policy of the republic,
furnishing evidence, in itself, of the specious character of
the prince whom it held. It is built around a vast but
gloomy court, as is usual with nearly all of the principal
edifices of Europe. One of its fronts forms a side of the
Piazetta, so often mentioned, and another lines the quay
next the port. The architecture of these two exterior faces
18


THE BRAVO.
275
ing. He paused to listen, and then tapped, with singular
caution.
“Who is without ?” asked a gentle female voice, at the
same instant that the latch moved and fell again, as if she
within waited to be assured of the character of her visitor,
before she opened the door.
“A friend to thee, Gelsomina ;" was the answer.
** Nay, here all are friends to the keepers, if words can
be believed. You must name yourself, or go elsewhere
for
your
answer.
The gondolier removed the mask a little, which had al-
tered his voice as well as concealed his face.
“It is I, Gessina,” he said, using the diminutive of her
name.
The bolts grated and the door was hurriedly opened.
It is wonderful that I did not know thee, Carlo!" said
the female, with eager simplicity; “but thou takest so
many disguises of late, and so counterfeitest strange
voices, that thine own mother might have distrusted her
ear.
The gondolier paused to make certain they were alone ;
then, laying aside the mask altogether, he exposed the fea-
tures of the Bravo.
“Thou knowest the need of caution," he added, “and
wilt not judge me harshly."
“I said not that, Carlo-but thy voice is so familiar,
that I thought it wonderful thou couldst speak as
stranger.
“Hast thou aught for me?"
The gentle girl, for she was both young and gentle,
hesitated.
“Hast thou aught new, Gelsomina ?” repeated the Bravo,
reading her innocent face with his searching glance.
“Thou art fortunate in not being sooner in the prison.
9
18*


276
THE BRAVO.
2
I have just had a visitor. Thou wouldst not have liked to
be seen, Carlo?"
Thou knowest I have good reasons for coming masked.
I might, or I might not have disliked thy acquaintance, as
he should have proved.”
• Nay, now thou judgest wrong ;” returned the female,
hastily, “I had no other, here, but my cousin, Annina.”.
• Dost thou think me jealous ?” said the Bravo, smiling
in kindness, as he took her hand. , “Had it been thy cou-
sin Pietro, or Michele, or Roberto, or any other youtb of
Venice, I should have no other dread than that of being
known.”
“But it was only Annina-my cousin Annina, whom
thou hast never seen-and I have no cousins Pietro, and
Michele, and Roberto. We are not many, Carlo. An-
nina has a brother, but he never comes hither. Indeed it
is long since she has found it convenient to quit her trade
to come to this dreary place. Few children of sisters see
each other so seldom as Annina and I !”
“Thou art a good girl, Gessina, and art always to be
found near thy mother. Hast thou nought in particular
for my ear?”
Again the soft eyes of Gelsomina, or Gessina, as she was
familiarly called, dropped to the floor-but raising them,
ere he could note the circumstance, she hurriedly conti-.
nued the discourse.
“I fear Annina will return, or I would go with thee, at
once.
- Is this cousin of thine still here, then ?" asked the
Bravo, with uneasiness---- Thou knowest I would not be
seen.
** Fear not. She cannot enter without touching that
bell, for she is above with my poor bedridden mother.
Thou canst go into the inner room, as usual, whan she
:


THE BRAVO.
277
0
27
comes, and listen to her idle discourse, if thou wilt--or-
but we have not time—for Annina comes seldom, and I
know not why, but she seems to love a sick room little, as
she never stays many minutes with her aunt."
“Thou wouldst have said, or I might go on my errand,
Gessina ?”
“I would, Carlo--but I am certain we should be re-
called by my impatient cousin.'
"I can wait; I am patient when with thee, dearest
Gessina.'
“Hist :-'Tis my cousin's step.-Thou canst go in."
While she spoke, a small bell rang, and the Bravo
withdrew into the inner room, like one accustomed to that
place of retreat. He left the door ajar, for the darkness
of the closet sufficiently concealed his person. In the
mean time, Gelsomina opened the outer door for the ad-
mission of her visitor. At the first sound of the latter's
voice, Jacopo, who had little suspected the fact from a
name which was so commod, recognised the artful daugh-
ter of the wine-seller.
“Thou art at thy ease, here, Gelsomina;" cried the
latter, entering and throwing herself into a seat, like one
fatigued. Thy mother is better, and thou art truly mis-
tress of the house."
“I would I were not, Annina, for I am young to have
this trust, with this affliction."
“It is not so insupportable, Gessina, to be mistress
within doors, at seventeen! Authority is sweet, and obe-
dience is odious.”
“I have found neither so; and I will give up the first
with joy, whenever my poor mother shall be able to take
command of her own family, again.
“This is well, Gessina, and does credit to the good fa-
ther confessor. But authority is dear to woman, and so
?
2
22


278
THE BRAVO.
77
93
is liberty. Thou wast not with the maskers yesterday, in
the square ?”
“ I seldom wear a disguise, and I could not quit my
mother.”
“ Which means that thou wouldst have been glad to do
it. Thou hast good reason for thy regrets, since a gayer
marriage of the sea, or a braver regatta, has not been wit-
nessed in Venice, since thou wast born. But the first was
to be seen from thy window ?”
** I saw the galley of state sweeping toward the Lido, and
the train of patricians on its deck; but little else.”
“ No matter. Thou shalt have as good an idea of the
pageant as if thou hadst played the part of the doge himself.
First came the men of the guard, with their ancient
dresses”
Nay, this I remember to have often seen; for the
same show is kept, from year to year.”
“ Thou art right; but Venice never witnessed such a
brave regatta! Thou knowest the first trial is always be-
tween gondolas of many oars, steered by the best esteemed
of the canals. Luigi was there, and though he did not win,
he more than merited success, by the manner in which he
directed his boat. Thou knowest Luigi ?"
“I scarce know any in Venice, Annina, for the long
illness of my mother, and this unhappy office of my father,
keep me within, when others are on the canals.”
“ True. Thou art not well placed to make acquaint-
But Luigi is second to no gondolier, in skill or
réputation, and he is much the merriest rogue of them
all, that put foot on the Lido.”
“He was foremost, then, in the grand race?”
• He should have been, but the awkwardness of his fel-
lows, and some unfairness in the crossing, threw him back
to be second. 'Twas a sight to behold, that of many noble
ances.


THE BRAVO.
279
watermen struggling to maintain or to get a name on the
canals. Santa Maria ! I would thou couldst have seen it,
girl!"
“I should not have been glad to see a friend defeated.”
- We must take fortune as it offers. But the most won-
derful sight of the day, after all, though Luigi and his fel-
lows did so well, was to see a poor fisherman, named An-
tonio, in his bare head and naked legs, a man of seventy
years, and with a boat no better than that I use to carry
liquors to the Lido, entering into the second race, and
carrying off the prize !"
“He could not have met with powerful rivals ?”
“The best of Venice; though Luigi, having striven for
the first, could not enter for the second trial. 'Tis said,
too,” continued Annina, looking about her with habitual
caution, “that one, who may scarce be named in Venice,
had the boldness to appear in that regatta masked; and yet
the fisherman won! Thou hast heard of Jacopo ?”
- The name is common.'
• There is but one who bears it now, in Venice.-All
mean the same when they say Jacopo.
“I have heard of a monster of that name. Surely he
hath not dared to show himself among the nobles, on such
a festa !”
“Gessina, we live in an unaccountable country! The
man walks the piazza with a step as lordly as the doge, at
his pleasure, and yet none say aught to him! I have seen
him, at noon-day, leaning against the triumphal mast, or
the column of San Teodoro, with as proud an air as if he
were put there to celebrate a victory of the republic !"
“Perhaps he is master of some terrible secret, which
they fear he will reveal ?"
“ Thou knowest little of Venice, child! Holy. Maria! a
secret of that kind is a death-warrant of itself. It is as dan-
gerous to know too much, as it is to know too little, when
92


280
THE BRAVO.
2
one deals with St. Mark. But they say Jacopo was there,
standing eye to eye with the doge, and scaring the senators
as if he had been an uncalled spectre from the vaults of
their fathers. Nor is this all; as I crossed the Lagunes
this morning, I saw the body of a young cavalier drawn
from the water, and those who were near it, said it had
the mark of his fatal hand !"
The timid Gelsomina shuddered.
They who rule,” she said, “will have to answer for
this negligence to God, if they let the wretch longer go at
large.”
Blessed St. Mark protect his children ! They say there
is much of this sort of sin to answer for--but see the body
I did, with my own eyes, in entering the canals this mor-
ning."
.“ And didst thou sleep on the Lido, that thou wert
abroad so early ?”
"The Lido-yes-nay-I slept not, but thou knowest
my father had a busy day during the revels; and I am not
like thee, Gessina, mistress of the household, to do as I
would. But I tarry here to chat with thee, when there is
great need of industry at home. Hast thou the package,
child, which I trusted to thy keeping, at my last visit ?”
“It is here," answered Gelsomina, opening a drawer,
and handing to her cousin a small closely enveloped pack-
age, which, unknown to herself, contained some articles of
forbidden commerce, and which the other, in her indefatig-
able activity, had been obliged to secrete for a time. “I
had begun to think that thou hadst forgotten it, and was
about to send it to thee.
“Gelsomina, if thou lovest me, never do so rash an act!
My brother Giuseppe-thou scarce knowest Giuseppe ?”
“We have little acquaintance, for cousins.'
“ Thou art fortunate in thy ignorance. I cannot say what
I might of the child of the same parents, but had Giuseppe


THE BRAVO.
281
66
seen this package, by any accident, it might have brought.
thee into great trouble !"
“Nay, I fear not thy brother, nor any else," said the daugh-
ter of the prison-keeper, with the firmness of innocence;
"he could do me no harm for dealing kindly by a relative.”
Thou art right; but he might have caused me great
vexation. Sainted Maria! if thou knewest the pain that
unthinking and misguided boy gives his family! He is my
brother, after all, and you will fancy the rest. Addio,
good Gessina ; I hope thy father will permit thee to come
and visit, at last, those who so much love thee."
"Addio, Annina; thou knowest I would come gladly, but
that I scarce quit the side of my poor mother.”
The wily daughter of the wine-seller gave her guileless
and unsuspecting friend a kiss, and then she was let out,
and departed.
“Carlo," said the soft voice of Gessina; “ thou canst
come forth, for we have no further fear of visits.”
The Bravo appeared, but with a paleness deeper than
common on his cheek. He looked mournfully at the
gentle and affectionate being who awaited his return, and
when he struggled to answer her ingenuous smile, the
abortive effort gave his features an expression of ghast-
liness.
“Annina has wearied thee with her idle discourse of the
regatta, and of murders on the canals. Thou wilt not judge
her harshly, for the manner in which she spoke of Giuseppe,
who may deserve this, and more. But, I know thy impa-
tience, and I will not increase thy weariness.”
“Hold, Gessina—this girl is thy cousin ?”
“ Have I not told thee so ? our mothers are sisters."
" And she is here often?”
“Not as often as she could wish, I am certain, for her
aunt has not quitted her room for many, many months.'


282
THE BRAVO.
“ Thou art an excellent daughter, kind Gessina, and
would make all others as virtuous as thyself. —And thou hast
been to return these visits ?”
“Never. My father forbids it, for they are dealers in
wines, and entertain the gondoliers in revelry. But Annina
is blameless for the trade of her parents.'
“No doubt-and that package ?'it hath been long in tby
keeping.
"A month; Annina left it at her last visit, for she was
hurried to cross to the Lido. But why these questions?
You do not like my cousin, who is giddy, and given to idle
conversation, but who, I think, must have a good beart.
Thou heardst the manner in which she spoke of the wretched
bravo, Jacopo, and of this late murder ?”
“I did."
“ Thou couldst not have shown more horror at the
monster's crimes thyself, Carlo. Nay, Annina is thought-
less, and she might be less worldly; but she hath, like all of
us, a holy aversion to sin. Shall I lead thee to the cell ?"
Go on.'
77
Thy honest nature revolts, Carlo, at the cold villany of
the assassin. I have heard much of his murders, and of the
manner in which those up above bear with him. They say,
in common, that his art surpasseth theirs, and that the of-
ficers wait for proof, that they may not do injustice.
“Is the senate so tender, think you ?” asked the Bravó,
huskily, but motioning for his companion to proceed.
The girl looked sad, like one who felt the force of this
question; and she turned away to open a private door,
whence she brought forth a little box.
“ This is the key, Carlo," she said, showing him one of a
massive bunch, "and I am now the sole warder. This
much, at least, we have effected; the day may still come
when we shall do more.
22


THE BRAVO.
283
The Bravo endeavoured to smile, as if he appreciated her
kindness; but he only succeeded in making her understand
his desire to go on. The eye of the gentle-hearted girl lost
its gleam of hope in an expression of sorrow, and she obeyed.
CHAPTER XIX.
But let us to the roof,
And, when thou hast surveyed the sea, the land,
Visit the narrow cells that cluster there,
As in a place of tombs.
St. Mark's Place.
We shall not attempt to thread the vaulted galleries, the
gloomy corridors, and all the apartments, through which
the keeper's daughter led her companion. Those, who have
ever entered an extensive prison, will require no description
to revive the feeling of pain which it excited, by barred
windows, creaking hinges, grating bolts, and all those other
signs, which are alike the means and evidence of incarcera-
tion. The building, unhappily like most other edifices in-
tended to repress the vices of society, was vast, strong, and
intricate within, although, as has been already intimated,
of a chaste and simple beauty externally, that might seem
to have been adopted in mockery of its destination.
Gelsomina entered a low, narrow, and glazed gallery,
when she stopped.
“Thou soughtest me, as wont, beneath the water-gate,
Carlo," she asked, " at the usual hour?"
I should not have entered the prison had I found the


284
THE BRAVO.
1
there, for thou knowest I would be little seen. But I
bethought me of thy mother, and crossed the canal."
“ Thou wast wrong. My mother rests much as she has
done, for many months—thou must have seen that we are
not taking the usual route to the cell ?”
“I have; but as we are not accustomed to meet in thy
father's rooms, on this errand, I thought this the necessary
direction."
“ Hast thou much knowledge of the palace and the
prison, Carlo ?”
“More than I could wish, good Gelsomina ;—but why
am I thus questioned, at a moment when I would be other-
wise employed !"
The timid and conscious girl did not answer.
Her cheek
was never bright, for like a flower reared in the shade, it
had the delicate hue of her secluded life; but at this ques-
tion it became pale. Accustomed to the ingenuous habits
of the sensitive being at his side, the Bravo studied her
speaking features intently. He moved swiftly to a window,
and looking out, his eye fell upon a narrow and gloomy
canal. Crossing the gallery, he cast a glance beneath
him, and saw the same dark watery passage, leading be-
tween the masonry of two massive piles to the quay and
the port.
« Gelsomina !” he cried, recoiling from the sight, “this
is the Bridge of Sighs !"
“It is, Carlo; hast thou ever crossed it before ?"
Never: nor do I understand why I cross it now. I
have long thought that it might one day be my fortune to
walk this fatal passage, but I could not dream of such a
keeper!”
The eye of Gelsomina brightened, and her smile was
cheerful.
Thou wilt never cross it, to thy harm, with me."


286
THE BRAVO.
recal the past, if we would, and in that which relates to
thee I would not lose the memory of a moment. Let us
proceed.
The slight cloud vanished from the face of the mild
auditor of the Bravo; but still she did not move.
“Few pass this bridge, they say,” she added, tremu-
lously, "and enter the world again; and yet thou dost not
even ask why we are here, Carlo !"
There was a transient gleam of distrust in the hasty
glance of the Bravo, as he shot a look at the undisturbed
of the innocent being who put this question. But it
scarcely remained long enough to change the expression
of manly interest she was accustomed to meet in his look.
“Since thou wilt have me curious,” he said, “why hast
thou come hither, and more than all, being here, why dost
thou linger ?”
“ The season is advanced, Carlo," she answered, speaking
scarcely above her breath, “and we should look in vain
eye
among the cells.”
“I understand thee,” he said ; " we will proceed."
Gelsomina lingered to gaze wistfully into the face of her
companion, but finding no visible sign of the agony he en-
dured, she went on. Jacopo spoke hoarsely, but he was
too long accustomed to disguise, to permit the weakness
to escape, when he knew how much it would pain the
sensitive and faithful being, who had yielded her affections
to him, with a singleness and devotion which arose nearly
as much from her manner of life, as from natural inge-
nuousness.
In order that the reader may be enabled to understand
the allusions, which seem to be so plain to our lovers, it may
be necessary to explain another odious feature in the policy
of the republic of Venice.
Whatever may be the pretension of a state, in its acknow-
ledged theories, an unerring clue to its true character is


THE BRAVO.
287
The reader may
ever to be found in the machinery of its practice. In
those governments which are created for the good of the
people, force is applied with caution and reluctance, since
the protection and not the injury of the weak is their object;
whereas the more selfish and exclusive the system becomes,
the more severe and ruthless are the coercive means em-
ployed by those in power. Thus, in Venice, whose whole
political fabric reposed on the narrow foundation of an
oligarchy, the jealousy of the senate brought the engines of
despotism in absolute contact with even the pageantry of
their titular prince, and the palace of the doge himself was
polluted by the presence of the dungeons. The princely
edifice had its summer and winter cells.
be ready to believe that mercy had dictated some slight
solace for the miserable, in this arrangement. But this
would be ascribing pity to a body, which, to its latest
moment, had no tie to subject it to the weakness of human-
ity. So far from consulting the sufferings of the captive,
his winter cell was below the level of the canals, while his
summers were to be past beneath the leads, exposed to the
action of the burning sun of that climate. As the reader
has probably anticipated, already, that Jacopo was in the
prison on an errand connected with some captive, this short
explanation will enable him to understand the secret allu-
sion of his companion. He they sought had, in truth, been
recently conveyed from the damp cells, where he had
passed the winter and spring, to the heated chambers be-
neath the roof.
Gelsomina continued to lead the way, with a sadness of
eye and feature, that betrayed her strong sympathy with
the sufferings of her companion, but without appearing to
think further delay necessary. She had communicated a
circumstance, which weighed heavily on her own mind,
and, like most of her mild temperament, who had dreaded
such a duty, now that it was discharged, she experienced


288
THE BRAVO.
a sensible relief. They ascended many flights of steps,
opened and shut numberless doors, and threaded several
narrow corridors, in silence, before reaching the place of
destination. While Gelsomina sought the key of the door,
before which they stopped, in the large bunch she carried,
the Bravo breathed the hot air of the attic, like one who
was suffocating.
** They promised me that this should not be done again!"
he said" But they forget their pledges, fiends as they
are!”
"Carlo 1-thou forgettest that this is the palace of the
doge!" whispered the girl, while she threw a timid glance
behind her.
“I forget nothing that is connected with the republic!-
It is all here,” striking his flushed brow—“what is not
there, is in my heart !"
“ Poor Carlo! this cannoi last for ever-there will be an
end."
“Thou art right;" answered the Bravo, hoarsely-
6. The end is nearer than thou thinkest.-No matter; turn
the key, that we may go in.”
The hand of Gelsomina lingered on the lock, but, ad-
monished by his impatient eye, she complied, and they
entered the cell.
• Father !” exclaimed the Bravo, hastening to the side
of a pallet, that lay on the floor.
The attenuated and feeble form of an old man rose at
the word, and an eye which, while it spoke mental feeble-
ness, was at that moment even brighter than that of his son,
glared on the faces of Gelsomina and her companion.
“Thou hast not suffered, as I had feared, by this sudden
change, father!” continued the latter, kneeling by the side
of the straw. .“ Thine, eye, and cheek, and countenance
are better, than in the damp caves below!"
“I am happy, here,” returned the prisoner;- there is


THE BRAVO.
29
light, and though they have given me too much of it, thou
canst never know, my boy, the joy of looking at the day,
after so long a night."
“He is better, Gelsomina !—They have not yet destroyed
him. See !---his eye is bright even, and his cheek has a
glow!"
They are ever so, after passing the winter in the lower
dungeons ;" whispered the gentle girl.
“Hast thou news for me, boy ?-What tidings from thy
mother?”
Jacopo bowed his head to conceal the anguish occa-
sioned by this question, which he now heard for the hun-
dredth time.
“She is happy, father-happy as one can be, who se
well loves thee, when away from thy side.”
“Does she speak of me often ?”
“ The last word that I heard from her lips, was thy
>>
name.
22
“Holy Maria bless her! I trust she remembers me in
her prayers?"
“Doubt it not, father,--they are the prayers of an angel!"
“And thy patient sister ?-thou hast not named her,
son.”
“She, too, is well, father.”
“Has she ceased to blame herself for being the innocent
cause of my suffering ?”
“She has."
"Then she pines no longer, over a blow that cannot be
helped."
The Bravo seemed to search for relief in the sympathizing
eye of the pale and speechless Gelsomina.
“She has ceased to pine, father;" he uttered, with coin-
pelled calmness.
“Thou hast ever loved thy sister, boy, with manly
tenderness. Thy heart is kind, as I have reason to know.
66
19


290
THE BRAVO.
If God has given me grief, he has blessed me, in my
children !"
A long pause followed, during which the parent seemed
to muse on the past, while the child rejoiced in the sus-
pensions of questions which harrowed his soul, since those
of whom the other spoke had long been the victims of fa-
mily misfortune. The old man, for the prisoner was aged,
as well as feeble, turned bis look on the still kneeling
Bravo, thoughtfully, and continued-
* There is little hope of thy sister marrying, for none are
fond of tying themselves to the proscribed.”
“ She wishes it not—she wishes it not-she is happy,
with my mother !"
“It is a happiness the republic will not begrudge. Is
there no hope of our being able to meet soon ?"
Thou wilt meet my mother,-yes, that pleasure will
come at last !"
“It is a weary time since any of my blood, but thee,
has stood in my sight. Kneel, that I may bless thee."
Jacopo, who had arisen under his mental torture,
obeyed, and bowed his head in reverence to receive the
paternal benediction. The lips of the old man moved, and
his eyes were turned to Heaven, but his language was of
the heart, rather than that of the tongue. Gelsomina bent
her head to her bosom, and seemed to unite her prayers
to those of the prisoner. When the silent but solemn ce-
remony was ended, each made the customary sign of the
cross, and Jacopo kissed the wrinkled hand of the captive.
• Hast thou hope for me?" the old man asked, this
pious and grateful duty done. “Do they still promise to
let me look upon the sun, again ?”
They do.—They promise fair.”
“Would that their words were true! I have lived on
hope, for a weary time-I have now been within these walls,
more than four years, methinks."
97


THE BRAVO.
281
use ;
Jacopo did not answer, for he knew that his father
named the period only that he himself had been permitted
to see him.
“I built upon the expectation, that the doge would re-
member bis ancient servant, and open my prison-doors."
Still Jacopo was silent, for the doge, of whom the other
spoke, had long been dead.
“And yet I should be grateful, for Maria and the saints
have not forgotten me. I am not without my pleasures, in
captivity."
"God be praised !" exclaimed the Bravo. - In what
manner dost thou ease thy sorrows, father?”
"Look hither, boy," returned the old man, whose eye
betrayed a mixture of feverish excitement, caused by the
recent change in his prison, and the growing imbecility of
a mind that was gradually losing its powers for want of
“dost thou see the rent in that bit of wood ? It
opens
with the heat, from time to time, and since I have been
an inhabitant here, that fissure has doubled in length–I
sometimes fancy, that when it reaches the knot, the hearts
of the seriators will soften, and that my doors will open.
There is a satisfaction, in watching its increase, as it
lengthens, inch by inch, year after year!"
“Is this all ?”
“Nay, I have other pleasures. There was a spider the
past year, that wove his web from yonder beam, and he
was a companion, too, that I loved to see; wilt thou look,
boy, if there is hope of his coming back ?"
“I see him not ;" whispered the Bravo.
"Well, there is always the hope of its return. 'The flies
will enter soon, and then he will be looking for his prey.
They may shut me up on a false charge, and keep me weary
years from my wife and daughter, but they cannot rob me
of all my happiness !"
The aged captive was mute and thoughtful. A childish
19*


292
THE BRAVO.
1
impatience glowed in his eye, and he gazed from the rent,
the companion of so many solitary summers, to the face of
his son, like one who began to distrust his enjoyments.
"Well, let them take it away,” he said, burying his
head beneath the covering of his bed; “ I will not curse
them!”
6. Father !”
The prisoner made no reply.
• Father !”
Jacopo !"
In his turn the Bravo was speechless. He did not ven-
ture, even, to steal a glance towards the breathless and
attentive Gelsomina, though his bosom heaved with longing
to examine her guileless features.
“ Dost thou hear me, son?” continued the prisoner,
uncovering his head; “ dost thou really think they will
have the heart to chase the spider from my cell ?”
They will leave thee this pleasure, father, for it touches
neither their power nor their fame. So long as the senate can
keep its foot on the neck of the people, and so long as it
can keep the seemliness of a good name, it will not envy
thee this."
“ Blessed Maria, make me thankful I-I had my fears,
child; for it is not pleasant to lose any friend in a cell !”
Jacopo then proceeded to soothe the mind of the prisoner,
and he gradually led his thoughts to other subjects. He
laid by the bedside a few articles of food, that he was al-
lowed to bring with him, and again holding out the hope
of eventual liberation, he proposed to take his leave.
“I will try to believe thee, son,” said the old man, who
had good reason to distrust assurances so often made. “I
will do all I can to believe it. Thou wilt. tell thy mother,
that I never cease to think of her, and to pray for her; and
thou wilt bless thy sister, in the name of her poor impri-
soned parent."


THE BRAVO.
293
The Bravo bowed in acquiescence, glad of any means to
escape speech. At a sign from the old man he again bent
his knee, and received the parting benediction. After
busying himself in arranging the scanty furniture of the
cell, and in trying to open one or two small fissures, with a
view to admit more light and air, he quitted the place.
Neither Gelsomina nor Jacopo spoke, as they returned
by the intricate passages through which they had ascended
to the attic, until they were again on the Bridge of Sighs.
It was seldom that human foot trod this gallery, and the
former, with female quickness, selected it as a place suited
to their further conference.
“Dost thou find him changed?” she asked, lingering on
the arch.
“ Much."
“ Thou speakest with a frightful meaning!".
“ I have not taught my countenance to lie to thee, Gel -
somina."
“ But there is hope.-Thou told’st him there was hope,
thyself.”
“ Blessed Maria forgive the fraud ! I could not rob the
little life he has of its only comfort."
“ Carlo! Carlo!--Why art thou so calm ? I have never
heard thee speak so calmly of thy father's wrongs and im-
prisonment.
“ It is because his liberation is near.'
“ But this moment he was without hope, and thou
speakest now of liberation !"
“ The liberation of death. Even the anger of the se-
nate will respect the grave.'
“ Dost thou think his end near? I had not seen this
change.'
“ Thou art kind, good Gelsomina, and true to thy friends,
and without suspicion of those crimes of which thou art
so innocent; but to one, who has seen as much evil as I,
77


294
THE BRAVO.
a jealous thought comes at every new event. The suffer-
ings of my poor father are near their end, for nature is worn
out; but were it not, I can foresee that means would be
found to bring them to a close.”
“ Thou canst not suspect that any here would do him
harm!”
“ I supect none that belong to thee. Both thy father
and thyself, Gelsomina, are placed here by the interposi-
tion of the saints, that the fiends should not have too much
power on earth."
If re-
6. I do not understand thee, Carlo—but thou art often
so.-Thy father used a word to-day that I could wish he
had not, in speaking to thee.”
The eye of the Bravo threw a quick, uneasy, suspicious
glance at his companion, and then averted its look with
haste.
“ He called thee Jacopo !" continued the girl.
“ Men often have glimpses of their fate, by the kindness
of their patrons.”
“ Wouldst thou say, Carlo, that thy father suspects the
senate will employ the monster he named ?"
Why not ?— They have employed worse men.
port says true, he is not unknown to them."
“Can this be so !—Thou art bitter against the republic,
because it has done injury to thy family; but thou canst not
believe it has ever dealt with the hired stiletto."
“ I said no more than is whispered daily on the ca-
nals."
I would thy father had not called thee by this terrible
name, Carlo ?”
“ Thou art too wise to be moved by a word, Gelsomina.
But what thinkest thou of my unhappy father?
This visit has not been like the others thou hast made
him in my company. I know not the reason, but to me
thou hast ever seemed to feel the hope with which thou hast


THE BRAVO.
295
66
we will
cheered the prisoner ; while now, thou seemest to have
even a frightful pleasure in despair.”
• Thy fears deceive thee:" returned the Bravo, scarce
speaking above his breath. “ Thy fears deceive thee, and
say no more. The senate mean to do us justice,
at last. They are honourable Signori, of illustrious birth,
and renowned names ! — 'Twould be madness to distrust
the patricians ! Dost thou not know, girl, that he who is
born of gentle blood is above the weaknesses and tempt-
ations that beset us of base origin? They are men placed
by birth above the weaknesses of mortals, and owing their
account to none, they will be sure to do justice. This is
reasonable, and who can doubt it?"
As he ended, the Bravo laughed bitterly.
Nay, now thou triflest with me, Carlo; none are above
the danger of doing wrong, but those whom the saints and
kind Maria favour.”
"This comes of living in a prison, and of saying thy
prayers night and morning! No-no-silly girl, there are
men in the world born wise, from generation to generation;
born honest, virtuous, brave, incorruptible, and fit in all
things to shut up and imprison those who are born base
and ignoble. Where hast thou passed thy days, foolish
Gelsomina, not to have felt this truth, in the very air thou
breathest ? 'Tis clear as the sun's light, and palpable—ay
--palpable as these prison-walls !"
The timid girl recoiled from his side, and there was a
moment when she meditated flight; for never before, dur-
ing their numberless and confidential interviews, had she
ever heard so bitter a laugh, or seen so wild a gleam in
the eye of her companion.
“ I could almost fancy, Carlo, that thy father was right
in using the name he did;” she said, as recovering herself,
she turned a reproachful look on his still excited fea-
tures.


296
THE BRAVO.
y
“ It is the business of parents to name their children;
-but, enough. I must leave thee, good Gelsomina, and
I leave thee with a heavy heart.".
The unsuspecting Gelsomina forgot her alarm. She
knew not why, but, though the imaginary Carlo seldom
quitted her that she was not sad, she felt a weight heavier
than common on her spirits at this declaration.
- Thou hast thy affairs, and they must not be forgotten.
Art fortunate with the gondola, of late, Carlo ?”
Gold and I are nearly strangers. The republic throws
the whole charge of the venerable prisoner on my toil.”
“I have little, as thou knowest, Carlo," said Gelsomina,
in a half audible voice; “but it is thine. My father is
not rich, as thou canst feel, or he would not live on the
sufferings of others, by holding the keys of the prison.
“He is better employed than those who set the duty.
Were the choice given me, girl, to wear the horned bon
net, to feast in their halls, to rest in their palaces, to bé
the gayest bauble in such a pageant as that of yesterday,
to plot in their secret councils, and to be the heartless
judge to condemn my fellows to this misery-or to be
merely the keeper of the keys and turner of the bolts-1
should seize on the latter office, as not only the most in-
nocent, but by far the most honourable !"
“Thou dost not judge as the world judges, Carlo. I
had feared thou mightst feel shame at being the husband
of a gaoler's daughter; nay, I will not hide the secret
longer, since thou speakest so calmly, I have wept that it
should be so.”
Then thou hast neither understood the world nor me.
Were thy father of the senate, or of the Council of Three,
could the grievous fact be known, thou wouldst have cause
But, Gelsomina, the canals are getting dusky,
and I must leave thee."
The reluctant girl saw the truth of what he said, and
to sorrow.


298
THE BRAVO.
rentina. The padrone paced the deck, enjoying the cool
of the evening, with Italian indolence, while his people
sang, or rather chaunted, a song of those seas, grouped
on the forecastle. The greetings were blunt and brief, as
is usual among men of that class. But the padrone ap-
peared to expect the visit, for he led his guest far from the
ears of his crew, to the other extremity of the felucca.
“ Hast thou aught in particular, good Roderigo ?” de-
manded the mariner, who knew the Bravo by a sign, and
yet who only knew him by that fictitious name. • Thou
seest we have not passed the time idly, though yesterday
was a festa.”
“ Art thou ready for the gulf?”
“For the Levant, or the pillars of Hercules, as shall
please the senate. We have got our yard aloft since the
sun went behind the mountains, and though we may seem
careless of delay, an hour's potice will fit us for the out-
side of the Lido."
• Then take the notice.”
“ Master Roderigo, you bring your news to an over-
stocked market. I have already been informed that we
shall be wanted to-night.”
The quick movement of suspicion made by the Bravo
escaped the observation of the padrone, whose eye was run-
ning over the felucca's gear with a sailor's habitual attention
to that part of his vessel, when there was question of its
service.
“Thou art right, Stefano. But there is little harm in
repeated caution. Preparation is she first duty in a deli-
cate commission."
“Will you look for yourself, Signor Roderigo ?” said
the mariner, in a lower tone. « La Bella Sorrentina is
not the. Bucentaur, nor a galley of the Grand Master of
Malta; but, for her size, better rooms are not to be had in
lhe palace of the doge. When they told me there was a


THE BRAVO.
301
Camillo, it was with an understanding that he should adopt
all the means that his native sagacity, or his experience
might suggest, to ascertain in what manner the council in-
tended to dispose of the person of Donna Violetta. They
had separated on the Lido, and as none knew of their in-
terview but him, and none would probably suspect their
recent alliance, the Bravo entered on his new duty with
some chances of success, that might otherwise bave been
lost. A change of its agents, in affairs of peculiar delicacy,
was one of the ordinary means taken by the republic to
avoid investigation. Jacopo had often been its instrument
in negotiating with the mariner, who, as has been so plainly
intimated, had frequently been engaged in carrying into
effect its secret, and perhaps justifiable, measures of police;
but in no instance had it ever been found necessary to in-
terpose a second agent between the commencement and
the consummation of its bargains, except in this. He had
been ordered to see the padrone, and to keep him in pre-
paration for immediate service; but since the examination
of Antonio before the council, his employers had neglected
to give him any farther instructions. The danger of leaving
the bride within reach of the agents of Don Camillo was
so obvious, that this unusual caution had been considered
necessary. It was under this disadvantage, therefore, that
Jacopo entered on the discharge of his new and important
duties.
That cunning, as has just been observed, is apt to over-
reach itself, has passed into a proverb; and the case of
Jacopo and his employers was one in point, to prove ils
truth. The unusual silence of those who ordinarily sought
him on similar occasions, had not been lost on the agent;
and the sight of the felucca, as he strayed along the quays,
gave an accidental direction to his inquiries. The manner
in which they were aided, by the cupidity of the Calabrian,
has just been related.


302
THE BRAVO.
Jacopo had no sooner touched the quay and secured his
boat, than he hastened again to the Broglio. It was now
filled by maskers and the idlers of the Piazzetta. The pa-
tricians had withdrawn to the scenes of their own pleasures,
or, in furtherance of that system of mysterious sway which
it was their policy to maintain, they did not choose to
remain exposed to the common eye, during the hours of
licence which were about to follow.
It would seem that Jacopo had his instructions, for no
sooner did he make sure that Don Camillo had retired,
than he threaded the throng with the air of a man whose
course was decided. By this time, both the squares were
full, and at least half of those who spent the night in those
places of amusement, were masked. The step of the Bravo,
though so unhesitating, was leisurely, and he found time,
in passing up the Piazzetta, to examine the forms, and,
when circumstances permitted, the features of all he met.
He proceeded, in this manner, to the point of junction be-
tween the two squares, when his elbow was touched by a
light hand.
Jacopo was not accustomed, unnecessarily, to trust his
voice in the square of St. Mark, and at that hour. But his
look of inquiry was returned by a sign to follow. He had
been stopped by one, whose figure was so completely con-
cealed by a domino, as to baffle all conjecture concerning
his true character. Perceiving, however, that the other
wished to lead him to a part of the square
that was
vacant, and which was directly on the course he was about
to pursue, the Bravo made a gesture of compliance and
followed. No sooner were the two apart from the pres-
sure of the crowd, and in a place where no eaves-dropper
could overhear their discourse without detection, than the
stranger stopped. He appeared to examine the person,
stature, and dress of Jacopo, from beneath his mask, with
singular caution, closing the whole with a sign that meant
TC


THE BRAVO.
303
recognition. Jacopo returned his dumb show, but main-
tained a rigid silence.
" Just Daniel !" multered the stranger, when he found
that his companion was not disposed to speak; “one would
think, illustrious Signore, that your confessor had imposed
a penance of silence, by the manner in which you refuse
to speak to your servani.”
“What wouldst thou?"
“Here am I, sent into the Piazza, among knights of
industry, varlets, gondoliers, and all other manner of revel-
lers that adorn this christian land, in search of the heir of
one of the most ancient and honourable houses of Venice.”
“How knowest thou I am he thou seekest?”
Signore, there are many signs seen by a wise man,
that escape the unobservant. When young cavaliers have
a taste for mingling with the people in honourable disguise,
as in the case of a certain young patrician of this republic,
they are to be known by their air, if not by their voices."
“Thou art a cunning agent, Hosea; but the shrewdness
of thy race is its livelihood !"
“It is its sole defence against the wrongs of the oppres-
sor, young noble. We are hunted like wolves, and it is
not surprising that we sometimes show the ferocity of the
beasts you take us for.
take us for. But why should I tell the wrongs
of my people to one who believes life is a masquerade !"
“And who would not be sorry, ingenious Hosea, were
it composed only of Hebrews ! But, thy errand; I have
no gage unredeemed, nor do I know that I owe the gold.”
“Righteous Samuel ! you cavaliers of the senate are not
always mindful of the past, Signore, or these are words
that might have been spared. If your excellency is in-
clined to forget pledges, the fault is not of my seeking;
but as for the account that has been so long growing be-
Iween us, there is not a dealer on the Rialto that will dis-
pute the proofs.”


304
THE BRAVO.
"Well, be it so-wouldst thou dun my father's son in
the face of the revellers in St. Mark ?”
“I would do no discredit to any come of that illustrious
race, Signore, and therefore we will say no more of the
matter; always relying that, at the proper moment, you
will not question your own hand and seal.”
“ I like thy prudence, Hebrew. It is a pledge thou
comest on some errand less ungracious than common.
As I am pressed for time, 'twill be a favour wert thou to
name it.”
Hosea examined, in a covert but very thorough manner,
the vacant spot around them, and drawing nearer to the
supposed noble, he continued.
Signore, your family is in danger of meeting with a
great loss! It is known to you that the senate has alto-
gether and suddenly removed Donna Violetta, from the
keeping of the faithful and illustrious senator your father.”
Though Jacopo started slightly, the movement was so na-
tural for a disappointed lover, that it rather aided than
endangered his disguise.
Compose yourself, young Signore,” continued Hosea;
“these disappointments attend us all in youth, as I know
by severe trials. Leah was not gained without trouble,
and next to success in barier, success in love is perhaps
the most uncertain. Gold is a great make-weight in both,
and it commonly prevails. But, you are nearer to losing
the lady of your love and her possessions than you may
imagine, for I am sent expressly to say, that she is about
to be removed from the city.”
“Whither ?" demanded Jacopo, so quickly as to do
credit to his assumed character.
• That is the point to learn, Signore. Thy father is a
sagacious senator, and is deep, at times, in the secrets of
the state. But, judging from his uncertainty on this oc-
casion, I take it he is guided more by his calculations, than


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305
SON 11
1,
ething
mos
nou te
by any assurance of his own knowledge. Just Daniel ! I
have seen the moments when I have suspected that the
Venerable patrician himself was a member of the Council
of Three !”
“His house is ancient and his privileges well established
-why should he not?”
“I
say nought against it, Signore. It is a wise body,
that doeth much good, and preventeth much harm. None
speak evil of the secret councils on the Rialto, where men
are more given to gainful industry than to wild discussions
of their rulers' acts. But, Signore, be he of this or that
council, or merely of the senate, a heedful hint has fallen
from his lips, of the danger we are in of losing-
“We !-Hast thou thoughts of Donna Violetta, Hosea ?"
""Leah, and the law forbid !—If the comely queen of
Sheba, herself, were to tempt me, and a frail nature showed
signs of weakness, I doubt that our rabbis would find
reasons for teaching self-denial! Besides, the daughter of
Levi is no favourer of polygamy, nor of any other of our
sex's privileges. I spoke in pluralities, Signore, because
the Rialto has some stake in this marriage, as well as the
house of Gradenigo.”
“I understand thee. Thou hast fears for thy gold?”
“Had I been easily alarmed, Signor Giacomo, in that
particular, I might not have parted with it so readily. But,
though the succession of thy illustrious father will be ample
to meet any loan within my humble means, that of the late
Signor Tiepolo will not weaken the security.”
“I admit thy sagacity, and feel the importance of thy
warning. But it seems to have no other object, or war-
ranty, than thy own fears."
“With certain obscure hints from your honoured father,
Signore."
“Did he say more to the point ?”
“He spoke in parables, young noble, but having an
27
20


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THE BRAVO.
oriental ear, his words were not uttered to the wind. That
the rich damsel is about to be conveyed from Venice am
I certain, and for the benefit of the little stake I have myself
in her movements, I would give the best turquoise in my
shop to know whither."
“Canst thou say with certainty, 'twill be this night" ?
Giving no pledge for redemption in the event of mis-
take, I am so sure, young cavalier, as to have many unquiet
thoughts.
Enough–I will look to my own interests, and to thine.”
Jacopo waved his hand in adieu, and pursued his walk
up
the Piazza.
“Had I looked more sharply to the latter, as became one
accustomed to deal with the accursed race," muttered the
Hebrew, «« it would be a matter of no concern to me if the
girl married a Turk "
“Hosea," said a mask at his ear; "a word with thee, in
secret."
The jeweller started, and found that, in his zeal, he had
suffered one to approach within sound of his voice unseen.
The other was in a domino also, and so well enveloped as
to be effectually concealed.
What wouldst thou, Signor Mask ?" demanded the wary
Jew.
“A word in friendship, and in confidence.-Thou hast
moneys to lend at usury ?"
“ The question had better be put to the republic's trea-
sury! I have many stones, valued much below their
weight, and would be glad to put them with some one more
lucky than myself, who will be able to keep them.
“Nay, this will not suffice—thou art known to be abound-
ing in sequins; one of thy race and riches will never refuse
a sure loan, with securities as certain as the laws of Venice.
A thousand ducats in thy willing hand is no novelty."
** They who call me rich, Signor Mask, are pleased to


308
THE BRAVO.
a
27
My necessities are too urgent to brook delay. Hast
thou the gold, on condition of naming thine own usury?”
“ With sufficient pledges in stones of price, I might rake
together the sum, among our dispersed people, Signore.
But he who goes on the island to borrow, as I shall be
obliged to do, should be able to satisfy all doubts concerning
the payment.”
The gold can then be had-on that point I may be
easy
?"
Hosea hesitated, for he had in vain endeavoured to pe-
netrate the other's disguise, and while he thought his as-
surance a favourable
omen,
with lender's instinct he
disliked his impatience.
“ I have said, by the friendly aid of our people;" he an-
'swered, with caution.
“ This uncertainty will not answer my need. Addio,
Hosea, -I must seek elsewhere.'
Signore, you could not be more hurried were the
money to pay the cost of your nuptials. Could I find Isaac
and Aaron within, at this late hour, I think I might be safe
in saying, that part of the money might be had."
- I cannot trust to this chance."
Nay, Signore, the chance is but small, since Aaron is
bed-ridden, and Isaac never fails to look into his affairs,
after the toil of the day is ended. The honest Hebrew
finds sufficient recreation in the employment, though I
marvel at his satisfaction, since nothing but losses have come
over our people the year past !”
* I tell thee, Jew, no doubt must hang over the negotia-
tion. The money, with pledges, and thine own conscience
for arbiter between us; but no equivocal dealings, to be
followed by a disappointment, under the pretence that se-
cond parties are not satisfied.”
“ Just Daniel ! to oblige you, Signore, I think I may
venture!--The well-known Hebrew, Levi of Livorno, has
2


THE BRAVO.
309
left with me a sack, containing the very sum of which
there is question, and under the conditions named, I will
convert it to my uses, and repay the good jeweller his gold,
with moneys of my own, at a later day.”
“I thank thee for the fact, Hosea," said the other,
partially removing his mask, but as instantly replacing it.
“It will greatly shortèn our negotiations. Thou hast not
that sack of the Jew of Livorno beneath thy domino ?"
Hosea was speechless. The removal of the mask had
taught him two material facts. He had been communicat-
ing his distrust of the Senate's intentions, concerning
Donna Violetta, to an unknown person, and, possibly, to
an agent of the police; and he had just deprived himself of
the only argument he had ever found available, in refusing
the attempts of Giacomo Gradenigo to borrow, by admitting
to that very individual, that he had in his power the
precise sum required.
“I trust the face of an old customer is not likely to de-
feat our bargain, Hosea ?” demanded the profligate heir of
the senator, scarce concealing the irony in which the ques-
tion was put.
“Father Abraham! Had I known it had been you, Sig-
nor Giacomo, we might have greatly shortened the treaty.”
“By denying that thou hadst the money, as thou hast so
often done of late !"
Nay, nay, I am not a swallower of my own words,
young Signore; but my duty to Levi must not be forgotten.
The careful Hebrew made me take a vow, by the name of
our tribe, that I would not part with his gold, to any that
had not the means of placing its return beyond all chances.'
“ This assurance is not wanting, since thou art the bor-
rower, thyself, to lend to me."
Signore, you place my conscience in an awkward posi-
tion. You are now my debtor some six thousand sequins,
and were I to make this loan of money in trust, and were


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.
CHAPTER XXI.
“We'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade."
Henry VI.
The night wore on. The strains of music again began to
break through the ordinary stillness of the town, and the
boats of the great were once more in motion on every
canal. Hands waved timidly in recognition, from the win-
dows of the little dark canopies, as the gondolas glided by,
but few paused to greet each other in that city of mystery
and suspicion. Even the refreshing air of the evening was
inhaled under an appearance of restraint, which, though it
might not be at the moment felt, was too much interwoven
with the habits of the people, ever to be thrown entirely
aside.
Among the lighter and gayer barges of the patricians,
a gondola of more than usual size, but ofan exterior so plain
as to denote vulgar uses, came sweeping down the great
canal. Its movement was leisurely, and the action of the
gondoliers that of men either fatigued or little pressed for
time. He who steered, guided the boat with consummate
skill, but with a single hand, while his three fellows, from
time to time, suffered their oars to trail on the water in
very idleness. In short, it had the ordinary listless appear-
ance of a boat returning to the city, from an excursion on
the Brenta, or to some of the more distant isles.
Suddenly, the gondola diverged from the centre of the
passage, down which it rather floated than pulled, and
shot into one of the least frequented canals of the city.


312
THE BRAVO.
From this moment its movement became more rapid and
regular, until it reached a quarter of the town inhabited
by the lowest order of the Venetians. Here it stopped by
the side of a warehouse, and one of its crew ascended to a
bridge. The others threw themselves on the thwarts and
seemed to repose.
He who quitted the boat threaded a few narrow but
public alleys, such as are to be found in every part of that
confined town, and knocked lightly at a window. It was
not long before the casement opened, and a female voice
demanded the name of him without.
“ It is I, Annina," returned Gino, who was not an un-
frequent applicant for admission at that private portal.
“Open the door, girl, for I have come on a matter of press-
ing haste.”
Annina complied, though not without making sure that
her suitor was alone.
“Thou art come unseasonably, Gino,” said the wine-
seller's daughter; “I was about to go to St. Mark's to
breathe the evening air. My father and brothers are al-
ready departed, and I only stay to make sure of the bolts."
“ Their gondola will hold a fourth."
* They have gone by the footways.”
“And thou walkest the streets alone at this hour, An-
nina !”
“I know not thy right to question it, if I do,” returned
the girl, with spirit. "San Teodoro be praised, I am not
yet the slave of a Neapolitan's servitor!"
• The Neapolitan is a powerful noble, Annina, able and
.willing to keep his servitors in respect.”
“ He will have need of all his interest—but why hast
thou come at this unseasonable hour ? Thy visits are never
too welcome, Gino, and when I have other affairs, they are
disagreeable.
Had the passion of the gondolier been very deep or


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97
very sensitive, this plain-dealing might have given him a
shock; but Gino appeared to take the repulse as coolly as
it was given.
“I am used to thy caprices, Annina,” he said, throwing
himself upon a bench, like one determined to remain
where he was.
"Some young patrician has kissed his
hand to thee as thou hast crossed San Marco, or thy father
has made a better day of it than common on the Lido -
thy pride always mounts with thy father's purse. "
“Diamine! to hear the fellow, one would think he had
my troth, and that he only waited in the sacristy for the
candles to be lighted, to receive my vows ! What art thou to
me, Gino Tullini, that thou takest on thee these sudden airs ?”
“And what art thou to me, Annina, that thou playest
off these worn-out caprices on Don Camillo's confidant ?”
“Out upon thee, insolent! I have no time to waste in
idleness.”
“Thou art in much haste to-night, Annina.”
"To be rid of thee. Now listen to what I say, Gino,
and let every word go to thy heart, for they are the last
thou wilt ever hear from me. Thou servest a decayed
noble, one who will shortly be chased in disgrace from
the city, and with him will go all his idle servitors. I
choose to remain in the city of my birth.”
The gondolier laughed in real indifference at her affected
seorn. But remembering his errand, he quickly assumed
a graver air, and endeavoured to still the resentment of his
fickle mistress, by a more respectful manner.
"St. Mark protect me, Annina !” he said. “If we are
not to kneel before the good prior together, it is no reason
we should not bargain in wines. Here have I come into
the dark canals, within stone's - throw of thy very door,
with a gondola of mellow lachrymæ Christi, such as honest
'Maso, thy father, has rarely dealt in, and thou treatest me
as a dog, that is chased from a church !"


314
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beneath the canopy.
“I have little time for thee or thy wines to-night, Gino.
Hadst thou not stayed me, I should already have been
abroad and happy.”
“Close thy door, girl, and make little ceremony with an
old friend,” said the gondolier, officiously offering to aid
her in securing the dwelling. Annina took him at his word,
and as both appeared to work with good will, the house
was locked, and the wilful girl and her suitor were soon in
the street. Their route lay across the bridge already named.
Gino pointed to the gondola, as he said, “Thou art not to
be tempted, Annina ?”
“Thy rashness in leading the smugglers to my father's
door will bring us to harm some day, silly fellow !"
“The boldness of the act will prevent suspicion.”
“Of what vineyard is the liquor ?”
“It came from the foot of Vesuvius, and is ripened by
the heat of the volcano. Should my friends part with it to
thy enemy, old Beppo, thy father will rue the hour!".
Annina, who was much addicted to consulting her in-
terests on all occasions, cast a longing glance at the boat.
The canopy was closed, but it was large, and her willing
imagination readily induced her to fancy it well filled with
skins from Naples.
This will be the last of thy visits to our door, Gino !"
“ As thou shalt please.-But go down and taste,"
Annina hesitated, and, as a woman is said always to do
when she hesitates, she complied. They reached the boat,
with quick steps, and without regarding the men who were
still lounging on the thwarts, Annina glided immediately
A fifth gondolier was lying at length
on the cushions, for, unlike a boat devoted to the contra-
band, the canopy had the usual arrangement of a bark of
the canals.
“I see nothing to turn me aside !” exclaimed the dis-
appointed girl. “Wilt thou aught with me, Signore ?”


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senate, to be so treated, is a disgrace to the republic! I do not
wonder that your eccellenza is out of humour with them.
Blessed St. Mark himself would lose his patience to be thus
treated !”
“ A truce with this, girl, and to your facts.”
My facts, Signor Duca, are a thousand times clearer
than the sun, and they are all at your eccellenza's service.
I am sure I wish I had more of them, since they give you
pleasure.
Enough of this profession.-Speak to the facts them-
selves."
Annina, who in the manner of most of her class in Italy,
that have been exposed to the intrigues of the towns, had
been lavish of her words, now found means to cast a glance
at the water, when she saw that the boat had already
quitted the canals, and was rowing easily out upon the La-
gunes. Perceiving how completely she was in the
power
of Don Camillo, she began to feel the necessity of being
more explicit
Your eccellenza has probably suspected that the
Council found means to be acquainted with your intention
to fly from the city with Donna Violetta ?”
All that is known to me.
“Why they chose me to be the servitor of the noble lady
is beyond my powers to discover. Our Lady of Loretto !
I am not a person to be sent for, when the state wishes
to part two lovers !"
“ I have borne with thee, Annina, because I would let
the gondola get beyond the limits of the city; but now thou
must throw aside thy subterfuge, and speak plainly. Where
didst thou leave my wife?”
Does your eccellenza then think the state will admit
the marriage to be legal ?”
Girl, answer, or I will find means to make thee. Where
didst thou leave my wife?"


THE BRAVO.
317
>>
)
** Blessed St. Theodore ! Signore, the agents of the re-
public had little need of me, and I was put on the first
bridge that the gondola passed.
Thou strivest to deceive me in vain. Thou wast on
the Lagunes till a late hour in the day, and I have notice
of thy having visited the prison of St. Mark as the sun was
setting; and this, on thy return from the boat of Donna
Violetta.”
There was no acting in the wonder of Annina.
“ Santissima Maria ! You are better served, Signore,
than the Council thinks !"
“ As thou wilt find to thy cost, unless the truth be
spoken. From what convent didst thou come ?”
Signore, from none. If your eccellenza has discovered
that the senate has shut up the Signora Tiepolo, in the
prison of St. Mark, for safe-keeping, it is no fault of mine."
Thy artifice is useless, Annina," observed Don Camillo,
calmly. “ Thou wast in the prison, in quest of forbidden
articles, that thou hadst long left with thy cousin Gelsomina,
the keeper's daughter, who little suspected thy errand, and
on whose innocence and ignorance of the world thou hast
long successfully practised. Donna Violetta is no vulgar
prisoner, to be immured in a gaol.'
“ Santissima Madre di Dio !"
Amazement confined the answer of the girl to this single,
but strong, exclamation.
“ Thou seest the impossibility of deception. I am ac-
quainted with so much of thy movements as to render it
impossible that thou shouldst lead me far astray. Thou
art not wont to visit thy cousin; but as thou enteredst the
canals this evening-
A shout on the water caused Don Camillo to pause. On
looking out he saw a dense body of boats, sweeping to-
wards the town as if they were all impelled by a single set
of oars. A thousand voices were speaking at once, and
99
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318
THE BRAVO.
occasionally a general and doleful cry proclaimed that the
floating multitude, which came on, was moved by a com-
mon feeling. The singularity of the spectacle, and the fact
that his own gondola lay directly in the route of the fleet,
which was composed of several hundred boats, drove the
examination of the girl, momentarily, from the thoughts
of the noble.
“ What have we here, Jacopo ?” he demanded, in an
under tone, of the gondolier who steered his own barge.
They are fishermen, Signore, and by the manner in
which they come down towards the canals, I doubt they
are bent on some disturbance. There has been discontent
among them since the refusal of the doge to liberate the
boy of their companion from the gallies.'
Curiosity induced the people of Don Camillo to linger a
minute, and then they perceived the necessity of pulling
out of the course of the floating mass, which came on like
a torrent, the men sweeping their boats with that desperate
stroke which is so often seen among the Italian oarsmen.
A menacing hail, with a command to remain, admonished
Don Camillo of the necessity of downright flight, or of
obedience. He chose the latter, as the least likely to inter-
fere with his own plans.
Who art thou ?" demanded one, who had assumed the
character of a leader. “ If men of the Lagunes and Chris-
tians, join your friends, and away with us to St. Mark's for
justice!"
“What means this tumult?” asked Don Camillo, whose
dress effectually concealed his rank, a disguise that he com-
pleted by adopting the Venetian dialect. “Why are you
here in these numbers, friends?"
66 Behold!”
Don Camillo turned, and he beheld the withered fea-
tures and glaring eyes of old Antonio, fixed in death. The
explanation was made by a hundred voices, accompanied


THE BRAVO.
319
66
by oaths so bitter, and denunciations so deep, that had not
Don Camillo been prepared by the tale of Jacopo, he would
have found great difficulty in understanding what he
beard.
In dragging the Lagunes for fish, the body of Anto-
nio had been found, and the result was, first, a consulta-
tion on the probable means of his death, then a collection
of the men of his calling, and finally the scene described.
Giustizia !” exclaimed fifty excited voices, as the grim
visage of the fisherman was held towards the light of the
moon; “Giustizia in Palazzo e pane in Piazza !”
• Ask it of the senate!” returned Jacopo, not attempting
to conceal the derision of his tones.
« Thinkest thou our fellow has suffered for his boldness
yesterday?”
Stranger things have happened in Venice !"
They forbid us to cast our nets in the Canale Orfano,
lest the secrets of justice should be known , and yet they
have grown bold enough to drown one of our own people
in the midst of our gondolas !"
Justice, justice !" shouted numberless hoarse throats.
" Away to St. Mark's ! Lay the body at the feet of the
doge-away, brethren-Antonio's blood is on their souls !”
Bent on a wild and undigested scheme of asserting their
wrongs, the fishermen again, plied their oars, and the
whole fleet swept away, as if it were composed of a single
mass.
The meeting, though so short, was accompanied by cries,
menaces, and all those accustomed signs of rage which
mark a popular tumult among those excitable people, and
it bad produced a sensible effect on the nerves of Annina.
Don Camillo profited by her evident terror to press his
questions, for the hour no longer admitted of trifling.
The result was, that while the agitated mob swept into


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321
has attempted to gloss his expedients, there is none more
evidently false than that which infer's the duration of a social
system, from the length of time it has already lasted. It
would be quite as reasonable to affirm that the man of se-
venty has the same chances for life as the youth of fifteen,
or that the inevitable fate of all things of mortal origin was
not destruction. There is a period in human existence,
when the principle of vitality has to contend with the fee-
bleness of infancy, but this probationary state passed, the
child attains the age when it has the most reasonable pros-
pect of living. Thus the social, like any other, machine,
which bas run just long enough to prove its fitness, is at
the precise period when it is least likely to fail; and al-
though he that is young may not live to become old, it is
certain that he who is old was once young. The empire
of China was, in its time, as youthful as our own re-
public, nor can we see any reason for believing that it is
to outlast us, from the decrepitude which is a natural com-
panion of its years.
At the period of our tale, Venice boasted much of her
antiquity, and dreaded, in an equal degree, her end. She
was still strong in her combinations, but they were com-
binations that had the vicious error of being formed for the
benefit of the minority, and which, like the mimic fortresses
and moats of a scenic representation, needed only a strong
light to destroy the illusion. The alarm with which the
patricians heard the shouts of the fishermen, as they swept
by the different palaces, on their way to the great square,
can be readily imagined. Some feared that the final con-
summation of their artificial condition, which had so long
been anticipated by a secret political instinct, was at length
arrived, and began to bethink them of the safest means of
providing for their own security. Some listened in ad-
miration, for habit had so far mastered dulness, as to have
created a species of identity between the state and far more
21


322
THE BRAVO.
durable things, and they believed that St. Mark bad gained
a victory, in that decline, which was never exactly intel-
ligible to their apathetic capacities. But a few, and these
were the spirits that accumulated all the national good which
was vulgarly and falsely ascribed to the system itself, intui-
tively comprehended the danger, with a just appreciation
of its magnitude, as well as of the means to avoid it.
But the rioters were unequal to any estimate of their own
force, and had little aptitude in measuring their accidental
advantages. They acted merely on impulse. The manner
in which their aged companion had triumphed on the pre-
ceding day, his cold repulse by the doge, and the scene of
the Lido, which in truth led to the death of Antonio, had
prepared their ininds for the tumult. When the body was
found, therefore, after the time necessary to collect their
forces on the Lagunes, they yielded to passion, and moved
away towards the palace of St. Mark, as described, without
any
other definite object than a simple indulgence of feeling.
On entering the canal, the narrowness of the passage
compressed the boats into a mass so dense, as, in a measure,
to impede the use of oars, and the progress of the crowd
was necessarily slow. All were anxious to get as near as
possible to the body of Antonio, and, like all mobs, they in
some degree frustrated their own objects, by ill-regulated
zeal. Once or twice the names of offensive senalors were
shouted, as if the fishermen intended to visit the crimes of
the state on its agents, but these cries passed away in the
violent breath that was expended. On reaching the bridge
of the Rialto, more than half of the multitude landed, and
took the shorter course of the streets to the point of des-
tination, while those in front got on the faster, for being
disembarrassed of the pressure in the rear.
As they drew
nearer to the port, the boats began to loosen, and to take
something of the form of a funeral procession.
It was during this moment of change, that a powerfully


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323
manned gondola swept with strong strokes, out of a lateral
passage, into the Great Canal. Accident brought it directly
in front of the 'moving phalanx of boats, that was coming
down the same channel. Its crew seemed staggered by
the extraordinary appearance, which met their view, and
for an instant its course was undecided.
“ A gondola of the republic !” shouted fifty fishermen.
A single voice added-“Canale Orfano !"
The bare suspicion of such an errand, as was implied by
the latter words, and at that moment, was sufficient to
excite the mob. They raised a cry of denunciation, and
some twenty boats made a furious demonstration of
pur-
suit. The menace, however, was sufficient; for quicker
far than the movements of the pursuers, the gondoliers of
the republic dashed towards the shore, and leaping on one
of those passages of planks, which encircle so many of the
palaces of Venice, they disappeared by an alley.
Encouraged by this success, the fishermen seized the
boat as a waif, and towed it into their own fleet, filling the
air with cries of triumph. Curiosity led a few to enter the
hearse-like canopy, whence they immediately re-issued,
dragging forth a priest.
Who art thou ?” hoarsely dentanded he, who took
upon himself the authority of a leader.
“A Carmelite, and a servant of God.”
«Dost thou serve St. Mark? Hast thou been to the
Canale Orfano, to shrive a wretch ?"
“I am here, in attendance on a young and noble lady,
who has need of my council and prayers. The happy and
the miserable, the free and the captive, are equally my
care ?"
“Ha!—Thou art not above thy office ?—Thou wilt say
the prayers for the dead, in behalf of a poor man's soul ?”
“My son, I know no difference, in this respect, between
21 *


321
THE BRAVO.
6
Come into my
the doge and the poorest fisherman. Still I would not
willingly desert the females."
« The ladies shall receive no harm.
boat, for there is need of thy holy office.'
Father Anselmo-the reader will readily anticipate that
it was he-entered the canopy, said a few words in expla-
nation to his trembling companions, and complied. He
was rowed to the leading gondola, and, by a sign, directed
to the dead body.
Thou seest that corpse, father?” continued his con-
ductor. “It is the face of one who was an upright and
pious christian !"
6. He was.
“We all knew him as the oldest and the most skilful
fisherman of the Lagunes, and one ever ready to assist an
unlucky companion.”
• I can believe thee !"
• Thou mayest, for the holy books are not more true
than my words. Yesterday he came down this very canal,
in triumph, for he bore away the honours of the regatta
from the stoutest oars in Venice.”
“I have heard of his success.
• They say that Jacopo, the Bravo-he who once held
the best oar in the canals-was of the party! Santa Ma-
donna ! such a man was too precious to die !"
“ It is the fate of all-rich and poor, strong and feeble
-happy and miserable, must alike come to this end."
“Not to this end, reverend Carmelite, for Antonio having
given offence to the republic, in the matter of a grandson,
that is pressed for the galleys, has been sent to purgatory
without a christian's hope for his soul.”
“ There is an eye that watcheth on the meanest of us,
son; we will believe he was not forgotten.
Gospetto !—They say that those the senate looks black
27


THE BRAVO.
323
upon, get but little aid from the church! Wilt thou pray
for him, Carmelite, and make good thy words ?”
“I will,” said Father Anselmo, firmly. “Make room,
son, that no decency of my duty be overlooked.”
The swarthy, expressive faces of the fishermen gleamed
with satisfaction, for in the midst of the ride turmoil, they
all retained a deep and rooted respect for the offices of the
church in which they had been educated. Silence was
quickly obtained, and the boats moved on with greater
order than before.
The spectacle was now striking.--In front rowed the
gondola which contained the remains of the dead. The
widening of the canal, as it approached the port, permitted
the rays of the moon to fall upon the rigid features of old
Antonio, which were set in such a look, as might be sup-
posed to characterize the dying thoughts of a man so sud-
denly and so fearfully destroyed. The Carmelite, bare-
headed, with clasped hands, and a devout heart, bowed
his head at the feet of the body, with his white robes flowing
in the light of the moon. A single gondolier guided the
boat, and no other noise was audible but the plash of the
water, as the oars slowly fell and rose together. This silent
procession lasted a few minutes, and then the tremulous
voice of the monk was heard chanting the prayers for the
dead. The practised fishermen, for few in that disciplined
church, and that obedient age, were ignorant of those so-
lemn rites, took
up
the
responses, in a manner that must
be familiar to every ear that has ever listened to the sounds
of Italy; the gentle washing of the element, on which they
glided, forming a soft accompaniment: Casement after case-
ment opened while they passed, and a thousand curious
and anxious faces crowded the balconies, as the funeral
cortége swept slowly on.
The gondola of the republic was towed in the centre of
the moving mass, by fifty lighter boats, for the fishermen


326
THE BRAVO.
1
still clung to their prize. In this manner the solemn pro-
cession entered the port, and touched the quay at the foot
of the Piazzetta. While numberless eager hands were
aiding in bringing the body of Antonio to land, there
arose a shout from the centre of the ducal palace, which
proclaimed the presence, already, of the other part of
their body in its .court.
The squares of St. Mark now presented a novel picture.
The quaint and oriental church, the rows of massive and
rich architecture, the giddy pile of the Campanile, the co-
lumns of granite, the masts of triumph, and all those pe-
culiar and remarkable fixtures, which had witnessed so
many scenes of violence, of rejoicing, of mourning, and of
gaiety, were there, like land-marks of the earth, defying
time; beautiful and venerable in despite of all those va-
rying exhibitions of human passions, that were daily acted
around them.
But the song, the laugh, and the jest had ceased. The
lights of the coffee-houses had disappeared, the revellers
had fled to their homes, fearful of being confounded with
those who braved the anger of the senate, while the gro-
tesque, the ballad-singers, and the buffoon, had abandoned
their assumed gaiety, for an appearance more in unison
with the true feelings of their hearts.
“Giustizia !”—cried a thousand deep voices, as the
body of Antonio was borne into the court—“ Illustrious
Doge ! Giustizia in Palazzo, e pane in Piazza ! Give us jus-
tice! We are beggars for justice !"
The gloomy but vast court was paved with the swarthy
faces and glittering eyes of the fishermen.
was laid at the foot of the Giant's Stairs, while the trem-
bling halberdier at the head of the flight, scarce com-
manded himself sufficiently to maintain that air of firm-
ness, which was exacted by discipline and professional
pride. But there was no other show of military force, for
The corpse


THE BRAVO.
327
the politic power, which ruled in Venice, knew too well
its momentary impotency to irritale when it could not
quell. The mob beneath was composed of nameless riot-
ers, whose punishment could carry no other consequences
than the suppression of immediate danger, and for that
those who ruled were not prepared.
The Council of Three had been apprised of the arrival
of the excited fishermen. When the mob entered the
court, it was consulting in secret conclave, on the proba-
bilities of the tumult having a graver and more determined
object, than was apparent in the visible symptoms. The
routine of office had not yet dispossessed the men already
presented to the reader, of their dangerous and despotic
power.
“Are the Dalmatians apprised of this movement?" asked
one of the secret tribunal, whose nerves were scarcely
equal to the high functions he discharged. “We may
have occasion for their vollies, ere this riot is appeased.'
• Confide in the ordinary authorities for that, Signore,”
answered the Senator Gradenigo. “I have only concern,
lest some conspiracy, which may touch the fidelity of the
troops, lies concealed beneath the outcry.”
The evil passions of man know no limits! What
would the wretches have? For a state in the decline, Ve-
nice is to the last degree prosperous. Our ships are thriv-
ing; the bank flourishes with goodly dividends, and I do
assure you, Signore, that, for many years, I have not
known so ample revenues for most of our interests, as at
this hour. All cannot thrive alike!”
“You are happily connected with flourishing affairs,
Signore, but there are many that are less lucky. Our form
of government is somewhat exclusive, and it is a penalty
that we have ever paid for its advantages, to be liable to
sudden and malevolent accusations, for any evil turn of
fortune that besets the republic."


328
THE BRAVO.
“Can nothing satisfy these exacting spirits ? Are they
not free—are they not happy?”
“ It would seem that they want better assurance of these
facts, than our own feelings or our words.'
“ Man is the creature of envy! The poor desire to be
rich--the weak, powerful.'
“There is an exception to your rule, at least, Signore,
since the rich rarely wish to be poor, or the powerful,
weak.”
“You deride my sentiments, to-night, Signor Gradenigo.
I speak, I hope, as becomes a senator of Venice, and in a
manner that
you are not unaccustomed to hear !"
“Nay, the language is not unusual. But I fear me,
there is something unsuited to a falling fortune, in the ex-
acting and narrow spirit of our laws. When a state is
eminently flourishing, its subjects overlook general defects,
in private prosperity, but there is no more fastidious com-
mentator on measures than your merchant of a failing
trade.”
This is their gratitude! Have we not converted these
muddy isles into a mart for half Christendom; and now
they are dissatisfied that they cannot retain all the mono-
polies that the wisdom of our ancestors has accumulated.”
“ They complain much in your own spirit, Signore,
but you are right in saying the present riot must be looked
to. Let us seek his highness, who will go out to the people,
with such patricians as may be present, and one of our
number as a witness : more than that might expose our
characters.'
The Secret Council withdrew to carry this resolution
into effect, just as the fishermen in the court received the
accession of those who arrived by water.
There is no body so sensible of an increase of its members
as a mob. Without discipline, and dependent solely on
animal force for its ascendancy, the sentiment of physical
92


330
THE BRAVO.
and effectually concealed from observation, cried, “Jus-
tice !"
“Such is our object,” mildly continued the prince;
"and such, I will add, is our practice. Why are ye assem-
bled here, in a manner so offensive to the state, and so
disrespectful to your prince ?”
Still none answered. The only spirit of their body,
which had been capable of freeing itself from the trammels
of usage and prejudice, bad deserted the shell which lay on
ibe lower step of the Giant's Stairs.
“Will none speak ?--are ye so bold with your voices,
when unquestioned, and so silent when confronted ?”
Speak them fair, your highness," whispered he of the
council, who was commissioned to be a secret witness of
the interview; "the Dalmatians are scarce yet appa-
relled.”
The prince bowed to advice which he well knew must be
respected, and he assumed his former tone.
“If none will acquaint me with your wants, I must
command you to retire, and while my parental heart
grieves---
“Giustizia!” repeated the hidden member of the crowd.
“Name thy wants, that we may know them.”
Highness ! deign to look at this !”
One bolder than the rest had turned the body of An-
tonio to the moon, in a manner to expose the ghastl y fea-
tures, and, as he spoke, he pointed towards the spectacle
he had prepared. The prince started at the unexpected
sight, and slowly descending the steps, closely accompanied
by his companions and his guards, he paused over the
body.
“ Has the assassin done this?” he asked, after looking at
the dead fisherman, and crossing himself.
66 What could
the end of one like this profit a Bravo ?-haply the unfor-
tunate man hath fallen in a broil of his class !”


THE BRAVO.
331
“Neither, Illustrious Doge! we fear that Antonio has
suffered for the displeasure of St. Mark!”
“Antonio ! Is this the hardy fisherman who would have
taught us how to rule in the state-regatta !"
“Eccellenza, it is !” returned the simple labourer of the
Lagunes, and a better hand with a net, or a truer friend
in need, never rowed a gondola, to or from the Lido.
Diavolo! It would have done your highness pleasure to
have seen the poor old christian among us, on a saint's day,
taking the lead in our little ceremonies, and teaching us
the mapner in which our fathers used to do credit to the
craft !”
"Or to have been with us, Illustrious Doge,” cried ano-
ther, for the ice once broken the tongues of a mob soon
grow bold, “in a merry-making, on the Lido, when old
Antonio was always the foremost in the laugh, and the dis-
creetest in knowing when to be grave."
The doge began to have a dawning of the truth, and he
cast a glance aside to examine the countenance of the un-
known inquisitor.
." It is far easier to understand the merits of the unfortu-
nate man, than the manner of his death,” he said, finding
no explanation in the drilled members of the face he bad
scrutinized. “Will any of your party explain the facts ?"
The principal speaker among the fishermen willingly took
on himself the office, and, in the desultory manner of one
of his habits, he acquainted the doge with the circum-
stances connected with the finding of the body. When he
had done, the prince again asked explanations with his eye,
from the senator at his side, for he was ignorant whether
the policy of the state required an example, or simply
death."
"I see nothing in this, your Highness,” observed he of
the council, but the chances of a fisherman. The un-
a


332
THE BRAVO.
happy old man has come to his end by accident, and it
would be charity to have a few masses said for his soul.”
“Noble senator !” exclaimed the fisherman, doubtingly,
“ St. Mark was offended !”
“Rumour tells many idle tales of the pleasure and dis-
pleasure of St. Mark. If we are to believe all that the wit
of men can devise, in affairs of this nature, the criminals
are not drowned in the Lagunes, but in the Canale Orfano.”
" True, eccellenza, and we are forbidden to cast our nets
there, on pain of sleeping with the eels at its bottom."
“So much greater reason for believing that this old man
hath died by accident. Is there mark of violence on his
body?—for though the state could scarcely occupy itself
with such as he, some other might. Hath the condition of
the body been looked to ?”
“Eccellenza, it was enough to cast one of his years into
the centre of the Lagunes. The stoutest arm in Venice
could not save him.
“There may have been violence in some quarrel, and
the proper authority should be vigilant. Here is a Carme-
lite !--Father, do you know aught of this ?”
The monk endeavoured to answer, but his voice failed.
He stared wildly about him, for the whole scene resembled
some frightful picture of the imagination, and then folding
his arms on his bosom, he appeared to resume his prayers.
“Thou dost not answer, Friar?” observed the doge, who
had been as effectually deceived, by the natural and indif-
ferent manner of the inquisitor, as any other of his audi-
tors. “Where didst thou find this body?”
Father Anselmo briefly explained the manner in which
he had been pressed into the service of the fisherinen.
At the elbow of the prince there stood a young patrician,
who, at the moment, filled no other office in the state than
such as belonged to his birth. Deceived like the others,
27


THE BRAVO.
333
by the manner of the only one who knew the real cause
of Antonio's death, he felt a humane and praise-worthy
desire to make sure that no foul play had been exercised
towards the victim.
“I have heard of this Antonio," said this person, who
was called the Senator Soranzo, and who was gifted by
nature with feelings that, in any other form of government,
would have made him a philanthropist, and of his
success in the regatta. Was it not said that Jacopo, the
Bravo, was his competitor ?”
A low, meaning, and common murmur ran through the
throng;
“A man of his reputed passions and ferocity, may well
have sought to revenge defeat by violence.
A second, and a louder murmur denoted the effect this
suggestion had produced.
“Eccellenza, Jacopo deals in the stiletto !” observed the
half-credulous but still doubting fisherman.
" That as may be necessary. A man of his art and
character may have recourse to other means to gratify his
malice. Do you not agree with me, Signore ?"
The Senator Soranzo put this question, in perfect good
faith, to the unknown member of the secret council. The
latter appeared struck with the probability of the truth of
his companion's conjecture, but contented himself with a
simple acknowledgment to that effect, by bowing.
"Jacopo !-Jacopo!" hoarsely repeated voice after voice
in the crowd—“ Jacopo has done this ! The best gondolier
in Venice has been beaten by an old fisherman, and no-
thing but blood could wipe out the disgrace!"
" It shall be inquired into, my children, and strict justice
done,” said the doge, preparing to depart.
« Officers,
give money for masses, that the soul of the unhappy man
be not the sufferer. Reverend Carmelite, I commend the


331
THE BRAVO.
body to thy care, and thou canst do no better service than
to pass the night, in prayer, by its side."
A thousand caps were waved in commendation of this
gracious command, and the whole throng stood in silent
respect, as the prince, followed by his retinue, retired
he bad approached, through the long vaulted gallery
above.
A secret order of the Inquisition prevented the appear-
ance of the Dalmatians.
A few minutes later and all was prepared. A bier and
canopy were brought out of the adjoining cathedral, and
the corpse was placed upon the former. Father Anselmo
then headed the procession, which passed through the prin-
cipal gate of the palace into the square, chanting the usual
service. The Piazzetta and the Piazza were still empty.
Here and there, indeed, a curious face, belonging to some
agent of the police, or to some observer more firm than
common, looked out from beneath the arches of the por-
ticoes on the movements of the mob, though none ventured
to come within its influence.
Bul the fishermen were no longer bent on violence.
With the fickleness of men little influenced by reflection,
and subject to sudden and violent emotions—a tempera-
ment which, the effect of a selfish system, is commonly tor-
tured into the reason why it should never be improved
they had abandoned all idea of revenge on the agents of the
police, and had turned their thoughts to the religious ser-
vices, which, being commanded by the prince himself,
were so flattering to their class.
It is true that a few of the sterner natures, among them,
mingled menaces against the Bravo, with their prayers for
the dead, but these had no other effect on the matter in
hand, than is commonly produced by the by-players on
the principal action of the piece.


THE BRAVO.
337
which even the young and innocent were taught caution.
Donna Florinda stole another look without.
They have disappeared, Heaven knows where! Let
us go!"
own.
In an instant the trembling fugitives were on the quay.
The Piazzetta was without a human form, except their
A low murmuring sound arose from the court of
the ducal palace, which resembled the hum of a disturbed
hive; but nothing was distinct, or intelligible.
“ There is violence meditated," again whispered the
governess;
66 would to God that Father Anselmo were
here!"
A shuffling footstep caught their ears, and both turned
towards a boy, in the dress of one of the Lagunes, who
approached from the direction of the Broglio.
“A reverend Carmelite bid me give you this,” said the
youth, stealing a glance behind him, like one who dreaded
detection. Then putting a small piece of paper in the
hand of Donna Florinda, he turned his own swarthy palm,
in which a small silver coin glittered, to the moon, and
vanished.
By the aid of the same light the governess succeeded in
tracing pencil-marks, in a hand that had been well known
to her younger days.
“ Save thyself, Florinda-There is not an instant to
lose. Avoid public places, and seek a shelter quickly."
6. But whither?" asked the bewildered woman, when
she had read aloud the scroll.
“Any where but here," rejoined Donna Violetta ;
66 follow me.”
Nature frequently more than supplies the advantages of
training and experience, by her own gifts. Had Donna
Florinda been possessed of the natural decision and firm-
ness of her pupil, she would not now have been existing
in the isolated condition which is so little congenial to
66
22


THE BRAVO.
339
superior decision of her pupil. The latter took the way
along the portico, keeping always within its shadows. In
passing the gateway, which opened towards the sea, the
fugitives had a glimpse of what was passing in the court.
The sight quickened their steps, and they now flew, rather
than ran, along the arched passage. In a minute they
were on the bridge, which crosses the canal of St. Mark,
still flying with all their force. A few mariners were
looking from their feluccas and gazing in curiosity, but the
sight of two terrified females, seeking refuge from a mob,
had nothing in itself likely to attract notice.
At this moment, a dark mass of human bodies appeared
advancing along the quay in the opposite direction. Arms
glittered in the moonbeams, and the measured tread of
trained men became audible.
The Dalmatians were mov-
ing down from the arsenal in a body. Advance and retreat
now seemed equally impossible to the breathless fugitives.
As decision and self-possession are very different qualities,
Donna Violetta did not understand so readily as the cir-
cumstances required, that it was more thap probable the
hirelings of the republic would consider their flight per-
fectly natural, as it had appeared to the curious gazers of
the port.
Terror made them blind, and as shelter was now the
sole object of the fugitives, they would probably have sought
it in the chamber of doom, itself, had there been an oppor-
tunity. As it was, they turned and entered the first, and
indeed the only, gate which offered. They were met by a
girl, whose anxious face betrayed that singular compound
of self-devotion and terror, which probably has its rise in
the instinct of feminine sympathies.
“ Here is safety, noble ladies,” said the youthful Vene-
tian, in the soft accent of her native islands; none will dare
do you harm within these walls."
• Into whose palace have I entered ?" demanded the
2:2 *


340
THE BRAVO.
92
half breathless Violetta. «« If its owner has a name in Ve.
nice, he will not refuse hospitality to a daughter of Tie-
polo.”
Signora, you are welcome,” returned the gentle girl,
curtseying low, and still leading the way deeper within the
vast edifice. You bear the name of an illustrious house!"
“ There are few in the republic of note, from whom I
may not claim, either the kindness of ancient and near ser-
vices, or that of kindred. Dost thou serve a noble master?”
-- The first in Venice, lady."
“Name him, that we may demand his hospitality as
befits us.”
St. Mark.”
Donna Violetta and her governess stopped short.
“Have we unconsciously entered a portal of the palace ?"
“ That were impossible, lady, since the canal lies be-
tween you and the residence of the doge. Still is St. Mark
master here. I hope you will not esteem your safety less,
because it has been obtained in the public prison, and by
the aid of its keeper's daughter.
The moment for headlong decision was passed, and that
of reflection had returned.
“How art thou called, child ?” asked Donna Florinda,
moving a-head of her pupil, and taking the discourse up,
where in wonder the other had permitted it to pause.
• We'
are truly grateful for the readiness with which thou thrėwest
open
the
gate for our admission, in a moment of such alarm
-How art thou called ?”
“Gelsomina;" answered the modest girl. “I am the
keeper's only child-and when I saw ladies of your honour-
able condition fleeing on the quay, with the Dalmatians
marching on one side, and a mob shouting on the other, I
bethought me that even a prison might be welcome.”
Thy goodness of heart did not mislead thee.'
Had I known it was a lady of the Tiepolo, I should have
>


THE BRAVO.
341
been even more ready; for there are few of that great pamc
now left to do us honour.”
Violetta curtseyed to the compliment, but she seemed
uneasy that haste and pride of rank had led her, so indis-
creetly, to betray herself.
Canst thou not lead us to some place less public ?" she
asked, observing that her conductor had stopped in a pub-
lic corridor to make this explanation.
“ Here you will be retired as in your own palaces, great
ladies;” answered Gelsomina, turning into a private pas-
sage, and leading the way towards the rooms of her family,
from a window of which she had first witnessed the em -
barrassment of her guests. “None enter here, without
cause, but my father and myself; and my father is much
occupied with his charge.
“Hast thou no domestic?",
“None, lady. A prison-keeper's daughter should not
be too proud to serve herself.”
Thou sayest well. One of thy discretion, good Gel-
somina, must know it is not seemly for females of condition
to be thrown within walls like these, even by accident, and
thou wilt do us much favour, by taking more than common
means to be certain that we are unseen. We give thee
much trouble, but it shall not go unrequited. Here is
gold.”
Gelsomina did not answer, but as she stood with her
eyes cast to the floor, the colour stole to her cheeks, until
her usually bloodless face was in a soft glow.
Nay, I have mistaken thy character !” said Donna
Florinda, secreting the sequins, and taking the unresisting
hand of the silent girl. “If I have pained thee, by my
indiscretion, attribute the offer to our dread of the disgrace
of being seen in this place.
The glow deepened, and the lips of the girl quivered.


312
THE BRAVO.
“ Is it then a disgrace to be innocently within these
walls, lady?” she asked, still with an averted eye. 61
have long suspected this, but none has ever before said it,
in my hearing !"
“Holy Maria pardon me! If I have uttered a syllable
to pain thee, excellent girl, it has been unwittingly and
without intention !"!
“We are poor, lady, and the needy must submit to do
that which their wishes might lead them to avoid. I
understand your feelings, and will make sure of your being
secret, and Blessed Maria will pardon a greater sin than
any you have committed here.”
While the ladies were wondering, at witnessing such
proofs of delicacy and feeling in so singular a place, the
girl withdrew.
“I had not expected this in a prison !” exclaimed Vio-
letta.
“ As all is not noble, or just, in a palace, neither is all
to be condemned upheard, that we find in a prison. But
this is, in sooth, an extraordinary girl for her condition,
and we are indebted to blessed St. Theodore (crossing
herself), for putting her in our way,"
“Can we do better than by making her a confident and
a friend?”
The governess was older and less disposed than her
pupil, to confide in appearances.
But the more ardent
mind and superior rank of the latter had given her an in-
fluence, that the former did not always successfully resist,
Gelsomina returned before there was time to discuss the
prudence of what Violetta had proposed.
“ Thou hast a father, Gelsomina?” asked the Venetian
heiress, taking the hand of the gentle girl, as she put her
question.
Holy Maria be praised !—I have still that happiness.”


THE BRAVO.
313
" It is a happiness---for surely a father would not have
the heart to sell his own child to ambition and mercenary
hopes! And thy mother?”
“Has long been bed-ridden, lady. I believe we should
not have been here, but we have no other place so suitable
for her sufferings, as this gaol."
“Gelsomina, thou art happier than I, even in thy pri-
son.
I am fatherless ---motherless--I could almost say,
friendless.”
“And this from a lady of the Tiepolo !"
“ All is not as it seems in this evil world, kind Gelso-
mina. We have had many doges, but we have had much
suffering. Thou mayst have heard that the house of which
I come is reduced to a single youthful girl like thyself, who
has been left in the senate's charge ???
They speak little of these matters, lady, in Venice; and
of all here, none go so seldom into the square as I. Still
have I heard of the beauty and riches of Donna Violetta.
The last, I hope is true; the first, I now see is so."
The daughter of Tiepolo coloured, in turn, but it was
not in resentment.
“They have spoken in too much kindness for an or-
phan,” she answered; "though that fatal wealth is per-
haps not over-estimated. Thou knowest that the state
charges itself with the care and establishment of all noble
females, whom Providence has left fatherless !"
Lady, I did not. It is kind of St. Mark to do it ?"
“ Thou wilt think differently, anon.
Gelsomina, and hast passed thy time in privacy ?"
“ True, lady. It is seldom I go farther than my mo-
ther's room, or the cell of some suffering prisoner.
Violetta looked towards her governess, with an expres-
sion which seemed to say, that she anticipated her appeal
would be made in vain, to one so little exposed to the
feelings of the world.
Thou art young,


341
THE BRAVO.
“ Thou wilt not understand, then, that a noble female
may have little inclination to comply with all the senate's
wishes, in disposing of her duties and affections ?”
Gelsomina gazed at the fair speaker, but it was evident
that she did not clearly comprehend the question. Again
Violetta looked at the governess, as if asking aid.
“The duties of our sex are often painful,” said Donna
Florinda, understanding the appeal, with female instinct.
“ Our attachments may not always follow the wishes of
our friends.
We may not choose, but we cannot always
obey.”
“I have heard that noble ladies are not suffered to see
those to whom they are to be wedded, Signora, if that is
what your eccellenza means; and, to me, the custom has
always seemed unjust, if not cruel."
“ And are females of thy class permitted to make friends,
among those who may become dearer at another day,"
hastily asked Violetta.
“ Lady, we have that much freedom even in the pri-
3
2
sons.
“ Then art thou happier than those of the palaces! I will
trust thee, generous girl, for thou canst not be unfaithful
to the weakness and wrongs of thy sex.
Gelsomina raised a hand, as if to stop the impetuous
confidence of her guest, and then she listened intently.
"Few enter, here,” she said; “but there are many
ways of learning secrets within these walls which are still
unknown to me. Come deeper into the rooms, noble
ladies, for here is a place that I have reason to think is
safe, even from listeners."
The keeper's daughter led the way into the little room,
in which she was accustomed to converse with Jacopo.
“You were saying, lady, that I had a feeling for the
weakness and helplessness of our sex, and surely you did
me justice.'
>>
27


THE BRAVO.
345
66 Have you
you do?"
Violetta had leisure to reflect, an instant, in passing from
one room to the other, and she began her communications
with more reserve. But the sensitive interest that a being
of the gentle nature and secluded habits of Gelsomina took
in her narrative, won upon her own natural frankness; and,
in a manner nearly imperceptible to herself, she made the
keeper's daughter mistress of most of the circumstances
under which she had entered the prison.
The cheek of Gelsomina became colourless as she list-
ened, and when Donna Violetta ceased, every limb of her
slight frame trembled with interest.
"The senate is a fearful power to resist !” she said,
speaking so low as hardly to be' audible.
reflected, lady, on the chances of what ”
“If I have not, it is now too late to change my inten-
tions. I am the wife of the Duke of Sant'Agata, and can
never wed another.”
“Gesu !- This is true. And yet, methinks, I would
choose to die a nun, rather than offend the Council !"
“ Thou knowest not, good girl, to what courage the
heart of even a young wife is equal. - Thou art still bound
to thy father, in the instruction and habits of childhood,
but thou mayest live to know that all thy hopes will centre
in another.”
Gelsomina ceased to tremble, and her mild eye bright-
ened.
"The Council is terrible,” she answered, “ but it must
be more terrible to desert one, to whom you have vowed
duty and love at the altar !"
“ Hast thou the means of concealing us, kind girl ?”
interrupted Donna Florinda, “ and canst thou, when this
tumult shall be quieted, in any manner help us to farther
secrecy or flight ?"
*Lady, I have none. Even the streets and squares of
Venice are nearly strangers to me. Santissima Maria! what


346
THE BRAVO.
>>
would I give to know the ways of the town as well as my
cousin Annina, who passes, at will, from her father's shop
to the Lido; and from St. Mark's to the Rialto, as ber plea-
sure suits. I will send for my cousin, who will counsel' us
in this fearful strait !"
Thy cousin !-Hast thou a cousin named Annina ?”
" Lady, Annina. My mother's sister's child.”
“ The daughter of a wine-seller, called Tomaso Torti.”
• Do the noble dames of the city take such heed of their
inferiors ?-- This will charm my cousin, for she has great
desires to be noted by the great.'
“ And does thy cousin come hither?”
Rarely, lady-We are not of much intimacy. I sup-
pose Annina finds a girl, simple and uninstructed as I, un-
worthy of her company.' But she will not refuse to aid us
in a danger like this. I know she little loves the republic,
for we have had words on its acts, and my cousin has been
bolder of speech about them, than befits one of her years,
in this prison.
Gelsomina, thy cousin is a secret agent of the police,
and unworthy of thy confidence”
“Lady!"
“ I do not speak without reason. Trust me, she is em-
ployed in duties that are unbecoming her sex, and unwor-
thy of thy confidence.”
Noble dames, I will not say any thing to do displea-
sure to your high rank and present distress, but you should
not urge me to think thus of my mother's niece. You have
been unhappy, and you may have cause to dislike the re-
public, and you are safe here--but I do not desire to hear
Annina censured."
Both Donna Florinda and her less experienced pupil
knew enough of human nature, to consider this generous
incredulity as a favourable sign of the integrity of her who
manifested it, and they wisely contented themselves with
>
92


THE BRAVO.
319
errant gaze might have witnessed their entrance into the
gate of the prison, it was so natural a circumstance, that
no one would suspect females of their appearance of re-
maining there an instant longer than was necessary. The
momentary absence of the few servants of the prison, who
took little heed of those who entered the open parts of the
building, and who had been drawn away by curiosity,
completed their security. The humble room they were in
was exclusively devoted to the use of their gentle protector,
and there was scarcely a possibility of interruption, until
the Council had obtained the leisure and the power of
making use of those terrible means, which rarely left any
thing it wished to know concealed.
With this explanation Donna Violetta and her com-
panion were greatly satisfied. It left them leisure to devise
means for their flight, and kindled a hope, in the former, of
being speedily restored to Don Camillo. Still there existed
the cruel embarrassment of not possessing the means of ac-
quainting the latter with their situation. As the tumult
ceased, they resolved to seek a boat, favoured by such dis-
guises as the means of Gelsomina could supply, and to
row to his palace; but reflection convinced Donna Florinda
of the danger of such a step, "since the Neapolitan was
known to be surrounded by the agents of the police. Ac-
cident, which is more effectual than stratagem in defeating
intrigues, had thrown them into a place of momentary se-
curity, and it would be to lose the vantage-ground of their
situation to cast themselves, without the utmost caution,
into the hazards of the public canals.
At length the governess bethought her of turning the
services of the gentle creature, who had already shown so
much sympathy in their behalf, to account. During the
revelations of her pupil, the feminine instinct of Donna
Florinda had enabled her to discover the secret springs
.


350
THE BRAVO.
which moved the unpractised feelings oftheir auditor. Gel-
somina had listened to the manner in which Don Camillo had
thrown himself into the canal to save the life of Violetta,
with breathless admiration; her countenance was a pure
reflection of her thoughts, when the daughter of Tiepolo
spoke of the risks he had run to gain her love; and woman
glowed in every lineament of her mild face, when the
youthful bride touched on the nature of the engrossing tie
which had united them, and which was far too holy to be
severed by the senate's policy.
If we had the means of getting our situation to the ears
of Don Camillo," said the governess, “ all might yet be
saved; else will this happy refuge in the prisons avails us
nothing.”
Is the cavalier of too stout a heart to shrink before those
up above ?" demanded Gelsomina.
“ He would summon the people of his confidence, and
ere the dawn of day we might still be beyond their power.
Those calculating senators will deal with the vows of my
pupil, as if they were childish oaths, and set the anger of
the Holy See itself at defiance, when there is question of
their interest.”
• But the sacrament of marriage is not of man; that,
at least, they will respect!”
Believe it not. There is no obligation so solemn as to
be respected, when their policy is concerned.
What are
the wishes of a girl, or what the happiness of a solitary
and helpless female, to their fortunes ? That my charge
is young, is a reason why their wisdom should interfere,
though it is none to touch their hearts with the reflection
that the misery to which they would condemn her, is to
last the longer. They take no account of the solemn obli-
gations of gratitude; the ties of affection are so many means
of working upon the fears of those they rule, but none for


352
THE BRAVO.
ing her companions with her intentions, she went within
to prepare herself, while Donna Florinda penned a note,
in terms so guarded as to defy detection in the event of
accident, but which might suffice to let the lord of St.
Agata understand their present situation.
In a few minutes the keeper's daughter reappeared.
Her ordinary attire, which was that of a modest Venetian
maiden of humble condition, needed no concealment; and
the mask, an article of dress which none in that city were
without, effectually disguised her features.' She then re-
ceived the note, with the name of the street, and the
palace she was to seek, a description of the person of the
Neapolitan, with often repeated cautions to be wary-and
departed.
CHAPTER XXIV.
" Which is the wisest here?-justice or iniquity ?"
Measure for Measure.
In the constant struggle between the innocent and the
artful, the latter have the advantage, so long as they con-
fine themselves to familiar interests. But the moment the
former conquer their disgust for the study of vice, and
throw themselves upon the protection of their own high
principles, they are far more effectually concealed from
the calculations of their adversaries, than if they practised
the most refined of their subtle expedients. Nature has
given to every man enough of frailty to enable him to es-
timate the workings of selfishness and fraud, but her truly


THE BRAVO.
353
This
ta
vileged are those who can shroud their motives and inten-
tions in a degree of justice and disinterestedness, which
surpass the calculations of the designing. Millions may
bow to the commands of a conventional right, but few,
indeed, are they who know how to choose in novel and
difficult cases. There is often a mystery in virtue. While
the cunning of vice is no more than a pitiful imitation of
that art, which endeavours to cloak its workings in the thin
veil of deception; the other, in some degree, resembles
The sublimity of infallible truth.
Thus men, too much practised in the interests of life,
constantly overreach themselves, when brought in contact
with the simple and intelligent; and the experience of
every day proves, that, as there is no fame permanent
which is not founded on virtue, so there is no policy se-
cure which is not bottomed on the good of the whole.
Vulgar minds may control the concerns of a community,
so long as they are limited to vulgar views; but woe to the
people who confide, on great emergencies, in any but the
honest, the noble, the wise, and the philanthropic ! for
there is no security for success when the meanly artful
control the occasional and providential events which rege-
nerate a nation. More than half the misery which has
defeated, as well as disgraced, civilization, proceeds from
neglecting to use those great men that are always created
by great occasions.
Treating, as we are, of the vices of the Venetian system,
our pen has run truant with its subject, since the applica-
tion of the moral must be made on the familiar scale suited
to the incidents of our story. It has already been seen
that Gelsomina was entrusted with certain important keys
of the prison. For this trust there had been sufficient
motive with the wily guardians of the gaol, who had made
their calculations on her serving their particular orders,
23


354
THE BRAVO.
without ever suspecting that she was capable of so far
listening to the promptings of a generous temper, as might
induce her to use them in any manner prejudicial to their
own views. The service to which they were now to be ap-
plied, proved that the keepers, one of which was her own
father, had not fully known how to estimate the powers of
the innocent and simple.
Provided with the keys in question, Gelsomina took a
lamp, and passed upward from the mezzinino in which she
dwelt, to the first floor of the edifice, instead of descending
to its court. Door was opened after door, and many a
gloomy corridor was passed by the gentle girl, with the
confidence of one who knew her motive to be good. She
soon crossed the Bridge of Sighs, fearless of interruption
in that unfrequented gallery, and entered the palace. Here
she made her way to a door that opened on the common
and public vomitories of the structure. Moving with suf-
ficient care to make impunity from detection sure, she ex-
tinguished the light, and applied the key. At the next
instant she was on the vast and gloomy stair-way. It re-
quired but a moment to descend it, and to reach the co-
vered gallery which surrounded the court. A halberdier
was within a few feet of her. He looked at the unknown
female with interest; but as it was not his business to ques-
tion those who issued from the building, nothing was said.
Gelsomina walked on. A half-repenting, but vindictive
being, was dropping an accusation in the Lion's Mouth.
Gelsomina stopped involuntarily, until the secret accuser
had done his treacherous work and departed. Then, when
she was about to proceed, she saw that the halberdier, at
thg head of the Giants' Stair-way, was smiling at her inde-
cision, like one accustomed to such scenes.
Is there danger in quitting the palace ?" she asked of the
rough mountaineer.
T


THE BRAVO.
355
“Corpo di Bacco! There might have been, an hour
since, Bella Donna; but the rioters are muzzled, and at
their prayers !"
Gelsomina hesitated no longer. She descended the well-
known flight, down which the head of Faliero had rolled,
and was soon beneath the arch of the gate. Here the timid
and unpractised girl again stopped, for she could not ven-
ture into the square without assuring herself, like a deer
ready to quit its cover, of the tranquillity of the place, into
which she was about to enter.
The agents of the police had been too much alarmed by
the rising of the fishermen, not to call their usual inge-
nuity and finesse into play, the moment the disturbance was
appeased. Money had been given to the mounte banks and
ballad-singers to induce them to re-appear, and groups of
birelings, some in masks and others without concealment,
were ostentatiously assembled in different parts of the
Piazza. In short, those usual expedients were resorted to,
which are constantly used to restore the confidence of a
people, in those countries in which civilization is so new,
that they are not yet considered sufficiently advanced to
be the guardians of their own security. There are few
artifices so shallow that many will not be its dupes. The
idler, the curious, the really discontented, the factious, the
designing, with a suitable mixture of the unthinking, and
of those who only live for the pleasure of the passing hour,
class not the least insignificant for numbers, had lent them-
selves to the views of the police; and when Gelsomina was
ready to enter the Piazetta, she found both the squares
partially filled. A few excited fishermen clustered about
the doors of the cathedral, like bees swarming before their
hive; but on that side, there was no very visible cause of
alarm. Unaccustomed as she was to scenes like that before
her, the first glance assured the gentle girl of the real pri-
vacy which so singularly distinguishes the solitude of a crowd.
23 *


356
THE BRAVO.
Gathering her simple mantle more closely about her form,
and settling her mask with care, she moved with a swift
step into the centre of the Piazza.
We shall not detail the progress of our heroine, as avoid-
ing the common-place gallantry that assailed and offend-
ed her ear, she went her way, on her errand of kindness.
Young, active, and impelled by her intentions, the square
was soon 'passed, and she reached the place of San Nicolo.
Here was one of the landings of the public gondolas. But
at the moment there was no boat in waiting, for curio-
sity or fear had induced the men to quit their usual stand.
Gelsomina had ascended the bridge, and was on the crown
of its arch, when a gondolier came sweeping lazily in from
the direction of the Grand Canal. Her hesitation and
doubting manner attracted his atlention, and the man
made the customary sign, which conveyed the offer of his
services. As she was nearly a stranger to the streets of Ve-
nice-labyrinths, that offer greater embarrassment to the
uninitiated than perhaps the passages of any other town of
ils size-she gladly availed herself of the offer.' To de-
scend to the steps, to leap into the boat, to utter the word
· Rialto," and to conceal herself in the pavilion, was the
business of a minute. The boat was instantly in motion,
Gelsomina now believed herself secure of effecting her
purpose, since there was little to apprehend from the
knowledge or the designs of a common boatman. He
could not know her object, and it was his interest to
carry her, in safety, to the place she had commanded.
But so important was success, that she could not feel se-
cure of attaining it while it was still unaccomplished.
She soon summoned sufficient resolution to look out at the
palaces and boats they were passing, and she felt the re-
freshing air of the canal revive her courage.
Then turn-
ing, with sensitive distrust, to examine the countenance of
the gondolier, she saw that his features were concealed


THE BRAVO.
357
beneath a mask that was so well designed, as not to be
perceptible to a casual observer by moonlight.
Though it was common, on occasions, for the servants of
the great, it was not usual for the public gondoliers to be
disguised. The circumstance itself was one justly to excite
slight apprehension, though, on second thoughts, Gelso-
mina saw no more in it, than a return from some expedi-
tion of pleasure, or some serenade, perhaps, in which the
caution of a lover had compelled his followers to resort to
this species of concealment.
Shall I put you on the public quay, Signora,” de-
manded the gondolier, “or shall I see you to the gate of
your own palace ?"
The heart of Gelsomina beat high. She liked the tone
of the voice, though it was necessarily smothered by the
mask; but she was little accustomed to act in the affairs of
others, and less still in any of so great interest, that the
sounds caused her to tremble like, one less worthily em-
ployed.
“Dost thou know the palace of a certain Don Camillo
Monforte, a Lord of Calabria, who dwells, here, in Venice ?"
she asked, after a moment's pause. The gondolier sen-
sibly betrayed surprise, by the manner in which he started
at the question.
“Would you be rowed there, lady?”
“ If thou art certain of knowing the palazzo.
The water stirred, and the gondola glided between high
walls. Gelsomina knew, by the sound, that they were in
one of the smaller canals, and she augured well of the
boatman's knowledge of the town. They soon stopped
by the side of a water-gate, and the man appeared on the
step, holding an arm, to aid her in ascending, after the
manner of people of his craft. Gelsomina bade him wait
her return, and proceeded.
There was a marked derangement in the household af
>>


THE BRAVO.
359
better pay a visit to the statue of San Teodoro, in the
Piazza, than see my master at this moment; the stone will
give you the better reception.'
“ And this he commands you to tell all of my sex who
come!”
Diavolo !--Lady, you are particular in your questions.
Perhaps my master might, on a strait, receive one of the
sex I could name, but on the honour of a gondolier he is
not the most gallant cavalier of Venice, just at this mo-
ment."
If there is one to whom he would pay this deference
-you are bold for a servitor. How know you I am not
that one ?”
Gino started. He examined the figure of the applicant,
and lifting his cap he bowed.
“ Lady, I do not know any thing about it,” he said;
“ you may be his Highness the Doge, or the ambassador of
the emperor. I pretend to know nothing in Venice, of
late--"
The words of Gino were cut short by a tap on the
shoulder from the public gondolier, who had hastily entered
the vestibule. The man whispered in the ear of Don Ca-
millo's servitor.
“ This is not a moment to refuse any," he said.-“ Let
the stranger go up.
Gino hesitated no longer. With the decision of a favour-
ed menial he pushed the groom of the chambers aside, and
offered to conduct Gelsomina, himself, to the presence of
his master. As they ascended the stairs, three of the in-
ferior servants disappeared.
The palace of Don Camillo had an air of more than Ve-
netian gloom. The rooms were dimly lighted, many of the
walls had been stripped of the most precious of their pic-
tures, and in other respects a jealous eye might have de-
tected evidence of a secret intention, on the part of it
22


360
THE BRAVO.
owner, not to make a permanent residence of the dwelling.
But these were particulars that Gelsomina did not note,
as she followed Gino through the apartments, into the
more private parts of the building. Here the gondolier un-
locked a door, and regarding his companion with an air,
half-doubting, half-respectful, he made a siga for her to
enter.
** My master commonly receives the ladies here," he
said. “Enter, eccellenza, while I run to tell him of his
happiness.”
Gelsomina did not hesitate, though she felt a violent
throb at the heart, when she heard the key turning in the
lock, behind her. She was in an ante-chamber, and, in-
ferring from the light which shone through the door of an
adjoining room that she was to proceed, she went on. No
sooner had she entered the little closet, than she found
herself alone with one of her own sex,
: “Annina!” burst from the lips of the unpractised prison-
girl, under the impulse of surprise.,
Gelsomina !--The simple, quiet, whispering, modest
Gelsomina !” returned the other.
The words of Annina admitted but of one construction.
Wounded, like the bruised sensitive plant, Gelsomina with-
drew her mask, for air, actually gasping for breath, be-
tween offended pride and wonder.
“Thou here !” she added, scarce knowing what she ut-
tered.
“Thou here!” repeated Annina, with such a laugh, as
escapes the degraded when they believe the innocent re-
duced to their own level.
“Nay-I come on an errand of pity.”
“ Santa Maria! we are both here with the same end !"
“ Annina! I know not what thou wouldst say!—This
is surely the palace of Don Camillo Monforte ! a noble
Neapolitan who urges claims to the honours of the senate?"
גין


THE BRAVO.
361
“ The gayest-The handsomest--the richest, and the
most inconstant cavalier in Venice! Hadst thou been here
a thousand times, thou couldst not be better informed !"
Gelsomina listened in horror. Her artful cousin, who
knew her character to the full extent that vice can com-
prehend innocence, watched her colourless cheek and con-
tracting eye with secret triumph. At the first moment, she
had believed all that she insinuated; but second thoughts,
and a view of the visible distress of the frightened girl,
gave a new direction to her suspicions.
“ But I tell thee nothing new,” she quickly added.
“I
only regret thou shouldst find me, where, no doubt, you
expected to meet the Duca di Sant' Agata himself.”
" Annina !--This from thee!”
“ Thou surely didst not come to his palace to seek thy
cousin !"
Gelsomina had long been familiar with grief, but until
this moment she had never felt the deep humiliation of
shame.
Tears started from her eyes, and she sunk back
into a seat, in ulter inability to stand.
I would not distress thee out of bearing,” added the
artful daughter of the wine-seller. “ But that we are both
in the closet of the gayest cavalier of Venice is beyond
dispute."
• I have told thee that pity for another brought me
hither."
“ Pity for Don Camillo."
" For a noble lady-A young, a virtuous, and a beauti-
ful wife--a daughter of the Tiepolo--of the Tiepolo, An-
nina !”
Why should a lady of the Tiepolo employ a girl of the
public prisons !”
“ Why !--because there has been injustice by those up
above. There has been a tumult among the fishermen-
and the lady with her governess were liberated by the


362
THE BRAVO.
rioters—and his Highness spoke to them in the great
court-and the Dalmatians were on the quay-and the
prison was a refuge for ladies of their quality, in a mo-
ment of so great terror-and the Holy Church itself has
blessed their love-2"
Gelsomina could utter no more, but breathless with the
wish to vindicate herself, and wounded to the soul by the
strange embarrassment of her situation, she sobbed aloud.
Incoherent as had been her language, she had said enough
to remove every doubt from the mind of Annina. Privy
to the secret marriage, to the rising of the fishermen, and
to the departure of the ladies, from the convent on a distant
island, where they had been carried on quitting their own
palace the preceding night, and whither she had been
compelled to conduct Don Camillo, who had ascertained
the departure of those be sought without discovering their
destination, the daughter of the wine-seller readily com-
prehended, not only the errand of her cousin, but the pre-
cise situation of the fugitives.
“And thou believest this fiction, Gelsomina !” she said,
affecting pity for her cousin's credulity. “The characters
of thy pretended daughter of Tiepolo and her governess are
no secrets to those who frequent the Piazza of San Marco.”
“Hadst thou seen the beauty and innocence of the lady,
Annina, thou wouldst not say this !”
• Blessed San Teodoro! What is more beautiful than
vice! •Tis the cheapest artifice of the devil to deceive
frail sinners. This thou hast heard of thy confessor Gel-
somina, or he is of much lighter discourse than mine."
“But why should a woman of this life enter the pri-
sons ”
• They had good reasons to dread the Dalmatians, no
doubt. But it is in my power to tell thee more of these
thou hast entertained, with such peril to thine own reputa-
tion. There are women in Venice who discredit their sex


364
THE BRAVO.
their cunning, blessed St. Anna knows!—but who have
not to learn their true characters.",
They did speak of thee, Annina !"
The glance, which the wine-seller's daughter threw at
her cousin, was such as the treacherous serpent casts at
the bird; but, preserving her self-possession, she added-
Not to my favour; it would sicken me to hear words
of favour from such as they!"
They are not thy friends, Annina.”
Perhaps they told thee, child, that I was in the em-
ployment of the Council ?”
"Indeed they did.”
No wonder. Your dishonest people can never be-
lieve one can do an act of pure conscience. But, here
comes the Neapolitan.—Note the libertine, Gelsomina, and
thou wilt feel for him the same disgust as I !".
The door opened, and Don Camillo Monforte entered.
There was an appearance of distrust in his manner, which
proved that he did not expect to meet his bride. Gelso-
mina arose, and, though bewildered by the tale of her
cousin, and her own previous impressions, she stood re-
sembling a meek statue of modesty, awaiting his approach.
The Neapolitan was evidently struck by her beauty, and
the simplicity of her air, but his brow was fixed, like that
of a man who had steeled his feelings against deceit.
" Thou wouldst see me?” he said.
“ I had that wish, noble Signore, but-Annina--
Seeing another, thy mind hath changed."
“Signore, it has.”
Don Camillo looked at her earnestly, and with manly
regret.
“ Thou art young for thy vocation-here is gold. Re-
tire as thou comest.-But hold-dost thou know this
Annina?"
“She is my mother's sister's daughter, noble Duca.”


368
THE BRAVO.
CHAPTER XXV.
Enough.
I could be merry now! Hubert, I love thee;
Well, I'll not say what I intend for thee:
Remember.
King John.
Jacopo was deeply practised in the windings of Venetian
deceit. He knew how unceasingly the eyes of the Coun-
cils, through their agents, were on the movements of those
in whom they took an interest, and he was far from feel-
ing all the advantage circumstances had seemingly thrown
in his way. Annina was certainly in his power, and it was
not possible that she had yet communicated the intelli-
gence, derived from Gelsomina, to any of her employers.
But a gesture, a look in passing the prison-gates, the ap-
pearance of duresse, or an exclamation, might give the
alarm to some one of the thousand spies of the police.
The disposal of Annina's person in some place of safety,
therefore, became the first and the most material act. To
return to the palace of Don Camillo, would be to go into
the midst of the hirelings of the senate; and although the
Neapolitan, relying on his rank and influence, had pre-
ferred this step, when little importance was attached to the
detention of the girl, and when all she knew had been re-
vealed, the case was altered, now that she might become
the connecting link in the information necessary to enable
the officers to find the fugitives.
The gondola moved on. Palace after palace was passed,
and the impatient Annina thrust her head from a window


THE BRAVO..
369
to note its progress. They came among the shipping of the
port, and her uneasiness sensibly increased. Making a
pretext similar to that of Gelsomina, the wine-seller's
daughter quitted the pavilion, to steal to the side of the
gondolier.
“ I would be landed quickly at the water-gate of the
doge's palace,” she said, slipping a piece of silver into the
hand of the boatman.
• You shall be served, Bella Donna. But-Diamine !
I marvel that a girl of thy wit should not scent the trea-
sures in yonder felucca !”
• Dost thou mean the Sorrentina ?”
“What other padrone brings as well-flavoured liquors
within the Lido! Quiet thy impatience to land, daughter
of honest old 'Maso, and traffic with the padrone, for the
comfort of us of the canals.”
“ How! Thou knowest me then?”
“ To be the pretty wine-seller of the Lido. Corpo di
Bacco! Thou art as well known as the sea-wall, itself, to
us gondoliers.”
Why art thou masked ? thou canst not be Luigi!”
It is little matter whether I am called Luigi, or En-
rico, or Giorgio—I am thy customer, and honour the
shortest hair of thy eyebrows. Thou knowest, Annina,
that the young patricians have their frolics, and they swear
us gondoliers to keep secret till all danger of detection is
over; were any impertinent eyes following me, I might be
questioned as to the manner of having passed the earlier
hours,"
“ Methinks it would be better to have given thee gold,
and to have sent thee at once to thy home.”
“ To be followed, like a denounced Hebrew, to my
door.
When I have confounded my boat with a thousand
others, it will be time to uncover.
Wilt thou to the
Bella Sorrentina ?”
24



THE BRAVO.
371
22
27
our former understanding, it will be thy business to make
sure of her presence.
"That is easily done,” returned Stefano, stepping for-
ward and closing the cabin door, which he secured by a
bolt. “She is alone, now, with the image of our Lady,
and a better occasion to repeat her aves cannot offer."
“This is well, if thou canst keep her so. It is now time
to lift thy anchors, and to go beyond the tiers of the ves-
sels with the felucca.”
“Signore, there wants but five minutes for that duty,
since we are ready."
“Then perform it, in all speed, for much depends on
the management of this delicate duty. I will be with thee,
anon. Hearkee, Master Stefano; take heed of thy pri-
soner, for the senate makes great account of her security.”
The Calabrian made such a gesture, as one initiated uses
when he would express a confidence in his own shrewdness.
While the pretended Roderigo re-entered his gondola, Ste-
fano began to awaken his people. As the gondola entered
the canal of San Marco, the sails of the felucca fell, and the
low Calabrian vessel stole along the tiers towards the clear
water beyond.
The boat quickly touched the steps of the water-gate of
the palace. Gelsomina entered the aréli, and glided up
the Giant's Stairway, the route by which she had quitled
the palace. The halberdier was the same that watched as
she went out. He spoke to her, in gallantry, but offered
no impediment to her entrance.
“ Haste, noble ladies, hasten for the love of the Holy
Virgin !” exclaimed Gelsomina, as she burst into the room
in which Donna Violetta and her companion awaited her
appearance. “I have endangered your liberty by my
weakness, and there is not a moment to lose. Follow
while you may, nor stop to whisper even a prayer."
24 *


372
THE BRAVO.
22
- Thou art hurried and breathless," returned Donna Flo-
rinda; "hast thou seen the Duca di Sant' Agata !”
Nay, question me not, but follow, noble dames."
Gelsomina seized the lamp, and casting a glance that
appealed strongly to her visitors for tacit compliance, she
led the way into the corridors.
It is scarcely necessary to
say that she was followed.
The prison was left in safety, the Bridge of Sighs was
passed, for it will be remembered that Gelsomina was still
mistress of the keys, and the party went swiftly by the great
stairs of the palace into the open gallery. No obstruction
was offered to their progress, and they all descended to
the court, with the quiet demeanour of females who went
out on their ordinary affairs.
Jacopo awaited at the water-gate. In less than a minute
he was driving his gondola across the port, following the
course of the ſelucca, whose white sail was visible in the
moonlight, now bellying in the breeze, and now flapping
as the mariners checked her speed. Gelsomina watched
their progress for a moment in breathless interest, and then
she crossed the bridge of the quay, and entered the prison
by its public gate.
“Hast thou made sure of old 'Maso's daughter ?" de-
manded Jacopo, on reaching the deck of the Bella Sorren-
tina again.
“ She is like shifting ballast, Master Roderigo ; first on
one side of the cabin, and then on the other; but you see
the bolt is undrawn.'
««« 'Tis well; here is more of thy freight-thou hast the
proper passes for the galley of the guard ?"
“ All is in excellent order, Signore; when was Stefano
Milano out of rule in a matter of haste? Diamine! let the
breeze come, and though the Senate should wish us back
again, it might send all its sbirri after us in vain.'
2


THE BRAVO.
373
97
“ Excellent Stefano ! fill thy sails, then, for our masters
watch your movements, and set a value on your diligence.”
While the Calabrian complied, Jacopo assisted the fe-
males to come up out of the gondola. In a moment the
heavy yards swung off, wing and wing, and the bubbles
that appeared to glance past the sides of the Bella Sorren-
tina, denoted her speed.
“ Thou hast noble ladies in thy passengers,” said Jacopo
to the padrone, when the latter was released from the active
duties of getting his vessel in motion; " and though policy
requires that they should quit the city for a time, thou wilt
gain favour by consulting their pleasures.
Doubt me not, Master Roderigo; but thou forgettest
that I have not yet received my sailing instructions; a
felucca without a course, is as badly off as an owl in the
sun."
“ That in good time; there will come an officer of the
republic to settle this matter with thee. I would not have
these noble ladies know, that one like Annina is to be their
fellow-passenger, while they are near the port; for they
might complain of disrespect. Thou understandest, Ste-
fano ?”
Gospetto ! am I a fool? a blunderer ? if so, why does
the Senate employ me? The girl is out of hearing, and
there let her stay. As long as the noble dames are willing
to breathe the night-air, they shall have none of her com-
pany.
“ No fear of them. The dwellers of the land little
relish the pent air of thy cabin. Thou wilt go without the
Lido, Stefano, and await my coming. If thou shouldst
not see me before the hour of one, bear away for the port
of Ancona, where thou wilt get further tidings.”
Stefano, who had often previously received his instruc-
tions from the imaginary Roderigo, nodded assent,
and
they parted. It is scarcely necessary to add, that the fu-
92


THE BRAVO.
375
his plans; his elbow was touched, and a masker confronted
him when he turned.
“Thou art Jacopo Frontoni ?” said the stranger.
“None else."
- Thou hast a hand to serve an employer, faithfully :?"
“I keep my faith.'
“ 'Tis well,--thou wilt find a hundred sequins in this
sack.”
“Whose life is set against this gold ?” asked Jacopo, in
an under tone.
"Don Camillo Monforte's."
"Don Camillo Monforte !"
“The same; dost thou know the rich noble?”
“You have well described him, Signore. He would pay
his barber this for letting blood.”
“Do thy job thoroughly, and the price shall be doubled.”
“I want the security of a name. I know you not,
Signore.”
The stranger looked cautiously around him, and raising
his mask for an instant, he showed the countenance of Gia-
como Gradenigo.
“Is the pledge sufficient ?”
“Signore, it is. When must this deed be done ?”?
“ This night. ---Nay, this hour, even."
“Shall I strike a noble of his rank in his palace-in his
very pleasures?"
“Come hither, Jacopo, and thou shalt know more.
Hast thou a mask ?”
The Bravo signified his assent.
“ Then keep thy face behind a cloud, for it is not in
favour here, and seek thy boat. I will join thee.”
The young patrician, whose form was effectually con-
cealed by his attire, quitted his companion, with a view of
rejoining him anew, where his person should not be known.
97


376
THE BRAVO.
Jacopo forced his boat from among the crowd at the quay,
and having entered the open space, between the tiers, he
lay on his oar, well knowing that he was watched, and
that he would soon be followed. His conjecture was right,
for in a few moments a gondola pulled swiftly to the side
of his own, and two men in masks passed from the strange
boat into that of the Bravo, without speaking.
“ To the Lido,” said a voice, which Jacopo knew to be
that of his new employer.
He was obeyed, the boat of Giacomo Gradenigo following
at a little distance. When they were without the tiers,
and consequently beyond the danger of being overheard,
the two passengers came out of the pavilion, and made a
sign to the Bravo to cease rowing,
“ Thou wilt accept the service, Jacopo Frontoni ?” de-
manded the profligate heir of the old senator.
• Shall I strike the noble in his pleasures, Signore?”
“ It is not necessary. We have found means to lure
him from his palace, and he is now in thy power, with no
other hope than that which may come from his single arm
and courage. Wilt thou take the service ?"
Gladly, Signore—It is my humour to encounter the
brave."
“Thou wilt be gratified. The Neapolitan has thwarted
me in my-shall I call it love, Hosea ? or hast thou a
better name ?”
“ Just Daniel ! Signore Giacomo, you have no respect
for reputations and surety! I see no necessity for a home-
thrust, Master Jacopo; but a smart wound, that may put
matrimony out of the head of the Duca for a time at least,
and penitence into its place, would be better--"
Strike to the heart !" interrupted Giacomo. “It is the
certainty of thy blow which has caused me to seek thee.'
“ This is usurious vengeance, Signor Giacomo,” re-


THE BRAVO.
377
92
turned the less resolute Jew. “ 'Twill be more than suf-
ficient for our purposes if we cause the Neapolitan to keep
house for a month.'
“ Send him to his grave. Harkee, Jacopo, a hundred
for thy blow--a second for assurance of its depth-a third,
if the body shall be buried in the Orfano, so that the water
will never give back the secret."
If the two first must be performed, the last will be
prudent caution,” muttered the Jew, who was a wary
villain, and who greatly preferred such secondary expe:
dients as might lighten the load on his conscience. “You
will not trust, young Signore, to a smart wound?”
“ Not a sequin. 'Twill be heating the fåncy of the girl
with hopes and pity. Dost thou accept the terms, Ja-
???
соро р?
I do."
>>
“ Then row to the Lido. Among the graves of Hosea's
people—why dost thou pull at my skirts, Jew? wouldst
thou hope to deceive a man of this character with a flimsy
lie? Among the graves of Hosea's people thou wilt meet
Don Camillo, within the hour. He is deluded by a pre-
tended letter from the lady of our common pursuit, and
will be alone, in the hopes of flight; I trust to thee to
hasten the latter, so far as the Neapolitan is concerned.
Dost take my meaning ?”
Signore, it is plain.
“ 'Tis enough. Thou knowest me, and can take the
steps necessary for thy reward, as thou shalt serve me.
Hosea, our affair is ended.”
Giacomo Gradenigo made a sign for his gondola lo ap-
proach, and dropping a sack which contained the retainer
in this bloody business, he passed into it, with the indif-
ference of one who had been accustomed to consider such
means of attaining his object, lawful. Not so, Hosea; he
was a rogue, rather than a villain. The preservation of his


378
THE BRAVO.
money, with the temptation of a large sum which had been
promised him, by both father and son, in the event of the
latter's success with Violetta, were irresistible temptations
to one who had lived contemned by those around him, and
he found his solace for the ruthless attempt in the acquisi-
tion of those means of enjoyment, which are sought equally
by Christian and Jew. Still his blood curdled at the ex-
tremity to which Giacomo would push the affair, and he
lingered to utter a parting word to the Bravo.
Thou art said to carry a sure stiletto, honest Jacopo,"
he whispered. “A hand of thy practice must know how
to maim, as well as to slay. --Strike the Neapolitan smartly,
but spare his life. Even the bearer of a public dagger
like thine, may not fare the worse, at the coming of Shilo,
for having been tender of his strength, on occasion."
“ Thou forgettest the gold, Hosea !”
“ Father Abraham ! what a memory am I getting, in
my years ! Thou sayest truth, mindful Jacopo; the gold
shall be forthcoming, in any event--always provided that
the affair is so managed as to leave my young friend, a
successful adventurer with the heiress.
Jacopo made an impatient gesture, for at that moment
he saw a gondolier pulling rapidly towards a private part
of the Lido. The Hebrew joined his companion, and the
boat of the Bravo darted a-head. It was not long ere it
lay on the strand of the Lido. The steps of Jacopo were
rapid, as he moved towards those prescribed graves, among
which he had made his confession to the very man he was
now sent to slay.
* Art thou sent to meet me?” demanded one, who started
from behind a rising in the sands, but who took the pre-
caution to bare his rapier as he appeared.
“Signor Duca, I am;” returned the Bravo, unmasking.
Jacopo !-this is even better than I had hoped !~Hast
thou tidings from my bride ?"
1


THE BRAVO.
379
“Follow, Don Camillo, and you shall quickly meet her.”
Words were unnecessary to persuade, when there was
such a promise. They were both in the gondola of Jacopo,
and on their way to one of the passages through the Lido,
which conducts to the gulf, before the Bravo commenced
his explanations. This, however, was quickly made, not
forgetting the design of Giacomo Gradenigo on the life of
his auditor.
The felucca, which had been previously provided with
the necessary pass, by the agents of the police, itself, had
quitted the port under easy sail, by the very inlet through
which the gondola made its way into the Adriatic. The
water was smooth, the breeze fresh from the land, and, in
short, all things were favourable to the fugitives. Donna
Violetta and her governess were leaning against a mast,
watching with impatient eyes the distant domes, and the
midnight beauty of Venice. Occasionally, strains of
music came to their ears from the canals, and then a touch
of natural melancholy crossed the feelings of the former, as
she feared they might be the last sounds of that nature she
should ever hear from her native town. But unalloyed
pleasure drove every regret from her mind when Don Ca-
millo leaped from the gondola, and folded her in triumph
to his heart.
There was little difficulty in persuading Stefano Milano
to abandon, for ever, the service of the Senate, for that of
his feudal lord. The promises and commands of the latter
were sufficient of themselves to reconcile him to the
change, and all were convinced there was now no time to
lose. The felucca soon spread her canvass to the wind,
and slid away from the beach. Jacopo permitted his gon-
dola to be towed a league to sea, before he prepared to re-
enter it.
“You will steer for Ancona, Signor Don Camillo,” said
the Bravo, leaning on the felucca's side, still unwilling to


380
THE BRAVO.
depart, “and throw yourself, at once, under the protection
of the Cardinal Secretary. If Stefano keep the sea, he
may chance to meet the galleys of the Senate.”
“Distrust us not-but thou, my excellent Jacopo—what
wilt thou become in their hands?"
“Fear not for me, Signore. God disposes of all, as he
sees fit. I have told your eccellenza that I cannot yet quit
Venice. If fortune favour me, I may still see your stout
castle of Sant' Agata.
“And none will be more welcome within its secure
walls. I have much fear for thee, Jacopo !"
Signore, think not of it. I am used to danger-and
to misery—and to hopelessness. I have known a pleasure,
this night, in witnessing the happiness of two young hearts,
that God, in his anger, has long denied me. Lady, the
Saints keep you, and God, who is above all, shield you
from harm !"
“ He kissed the hand of Donna Violetta, who, half igno-
rant still of his services, listened to his words in wonder.
“Don Camillo Monforte,” he continued, “ distrust Ve-
nice to your dying day. Let no promises--no hopes-no
desire of increasing your honours, or your riches, ever
tempt you to put yourself in her power. None know the
falsehood of the state, better than I, and with my parting
words I warn you to be wary!"
“ Thou speakest as if we were to meet no more, wortby
Jacopo !”
The Bravo turned, and the action brought his features
to the moon. There was a melancholy smile, in which
deep satisfaction at the success of the lovers was mingled
with serious forebodings for himself.
“We are certain only of the past,” he said, in a low
voice.
Touching the hand of Don Camillo, he kissed his own
and leaped hastily into his gondola. The fast was thrown


THE BRAVO.
381
loose, and the felucca glided away, leaving this extraordi-
nary being, alone, in the waters. The Neapolitan ran to the
taffrail, and the last he saw of Jacopo, the Bravo was row-,
ing leisurely back towards. that scene of violence and de-
ception, from which he himself was so glad to have escaped.
CHAPTER XXVI.
My limbs are bowed, though not with toil,
But rasted with a vile repose,
For they have been a dungeon's spoil,
And mine hath been the fate of those
To whom the goodly earth and air
Are bann'd, and barr'd—forbidden fare!
Prisoner of Chillon.
When the day dawned on the following morning, the
square of St. Mark was empty. The priests still chanted
their prayers for the dead, near the body of old Antonio,
and a few fishermen still lingered in and near the cathedral,
but half persuaded of the manner in which their companion
bad come to his end. But, as was usual at that hour of the
day, the city appeared tranquil, for though a slight alarm
had passed through the canals, at the movement of the
rioters, it had subsided into that specious and distrustful
quiet which is, more or less, the unavoidable consequence
of a system that is not substantially based on the willing
support
Jacopo was again in the attic of the doge's palace, ac-
companied by the gentle Gelsomina. As they threaded the
windings of the building, he recounted to the eager ear of
of the mass.


THE BRAVO.
383
I
the fugitives, but her look saddened when he changed the
discourse. Without reply, however, she did as he desired,
and in a very few moments they were standing by the side
of the prisoner's pallet. The latter did not appear to ob-
serve their entrance, and Jacopo was obliged to announce
himself.
“ Father!” he said, with that melancholy pathos which
always crept into his voice when he addressed the old man,
“it is I.”
The prisoner turned, and though evidently much enfee-
bled, since the last visit, a wan smile gleamed on his
wasted features.
“ And thy mother, boy ?” he asked, so eagerly as to
cause Gelsomina to turn hastily aside.
Happy, father-happy!”
Happy without me?"
“ She is ever with thee, in spirit, father. She thinks of
thee in her prayers. Thou hast a saint for an intercessor,
in my mother father."
“ And thy good sister ?”
Happy too-doubt it not, father. They are both
patient and resigned."
“ The Senate, boy ?!”
“ Is the same : soulless, selfish, and pretending !” an-
swered Jacopo, sternly; then turning away his face, in
bitterness of heart, though without permitting the words
to be audible, he cursed them.
• The noble Signori were deceived in believing me con-
cerned in the attempt to rob their revenues," returned the
patient old man; “one day they will see and acknowledge
their error.”
Jacopo made no answer, for, unlettered as he was, and
curtailed of that knowledge which should be, and is, be-
stowed on all, by every paternal government, the natural
strength of his mind had enabled him to understand, that


THE BRAVO.
385
forgettest this is the attic, and that these are the leads, and
then the sun-oh! the sun! The illustrious senators do
not bethink them of the pain of passing the bleak winter
below the canals, and the burning summers beneath hot
metal.”
They think of nothing but their power," murmured
Jacopom" that which is wrongfully obtained, must be
maintained by merciless injustice, but why should we
speak of this, father? hast thou all thy body needs ?”
Air-son, air !--give me of that air, which God has
made for the meanest living thing."
The Bravo rushed towards those fissures in the venera-
ble but polluted pile, he had already striven to open, and
with frantic force he endeavoured to widen them with his
hands. The material resisted, though blood flowed from
the ends of his fingers, in the desperate effort.
“ The door, Gelsomina, open wide the door!” he cried,
turning away from the spot, exhausted with his fruitless
exertions.
Nay, I do not suffer now, my child—it is when thou
hast left me, and when I am alone with my own thoughts,
when I see thy weeping mother and neglected sister, that
I most feel the want of air-are we not in the fervid month
of August, son ?”
“ Father, it is not yet June."
“ I shall then have more heat to bear! God's will be
done, and blessed Santa Maria, his mother undefiled !-give
me strength to endure it.”
The eye of Jacopo gleamed with a wildness, scarcely less
frightful than the ghastly, look of the old man; his chest
heaved, his fingers were clenched, and his breathing was
audible.
“ No,” he said, in a low, but in so determined a voice,
as to prove how fiercely his resolution was set," thou shalt
not await their torments; arise, father, and go with me,
25


386
THE BRAVO.
The doors are open, the ways of the palace are known to
me in the darkest night, and the keys are at hand. I will
find means to conceal thee until dark, and we will quit the
accursed republic for ever."
Hope gleamed in the eye of the old captive, as he listen-
ed to this frantic proposal ; but distrust of the means im-
mediately altered its expression.
“ Thou forgettest those up above, son.”
“ I think only of One truly above, father.'
“ And this girl-how canst thou hope to deceive her?”
• She will take thy place-she is with us in heart, and
will lend herself to a seeming violence. I do not promiso
for thee idly, kindest Gelsomina ?”
The frightened girl, who had never before witnessed so
plain evidence of desperation in her companion, had sunk
upon an article of furniture, speechless. The look of the
prisoner changed from one to the other, and he made an
effort to rise, but debility caused him to fall backward; and
not till then did Jacopo perceive the impracticability, on
many accounts, of what, in a moment of excitement, he had
proposed. A long silence followed. The hard breathing
of Jacopo gradually subsided, and the expression of his
face changed to its customary settled and collected look.
Father,” he said, " I must quit thee; our misery draws
near a close."
“ Thou wilt come to me soon again ?"
“ If the saints permit;-thy blessing, father!"
The old man folded his hands above the head of Ja-
copo, and murmured a prayer. When this pious duty was
performed, both the Bravo and Gelsomina busied them-
selves, a little time, in contributing to the bodily comforts
of the prisoner, and then they departed in company.
Jacopo appeared unwilling to quit the vicinity of the cell.
A melancholy presentiment seemed to possess his mind,
that these stolen visits were soon to cease. After a lille


THE BRAVO,
387
2
delay, however, they descended to the apartments below;
and as Jacopo desired to quit the palace, without re-entering
the prisons, Gelsomina prepared to let him out by the prin-
cipal corridor.
“ Thou art sadder than common, Carlo," she observed,
watching with feminine assiduity his averled eye.
6. Me-
thinks thou shouldst rejoice in the fortunes of the Neapolitan,
and of the lady of the Tiepolo.”
That escape is like a gleam of sunshine in a wintry day.
Good girl--but we are observed ! who is yon spy on our
movements ?"
“ 'Tis a menial of the palace; they constantly cross us
in this part of the building; come bither, if thou art weary,
This room is little used, and we may again look out upon
the sea.
Jacopo followed his mild conductor into one of the neg-
lected closels of the second floor, where in truth, he was
glad to catch a glimpse of the state of things in the Piazza,
before he left the palace. His first look was at the water,
which was still rolling southward, before the gale from the
Alps. Satisfied with this prospect, he bent his eye beneath.
At the iostant, an officer of the republic issued from the
palace-gate, preceded by a trumpeter, as was usual when
there was occasion to make public proclamation of the
Senate's will. Gelsomina opened the casement, and both
leaned forward to listen. When the little procession had
reached the front of the cathedral, the trumpet sounded,
and the voice of the oflicer was heard :-
" Whereas many wicked and ruthless assassinations have
of late been committed on the persons of divers good
citizens of Venice,"—he proclaimed—" the Senate, in its
fatherly care of all whom it is charged to protect, has found
reason to resort to extraordinary means of preventing the
repetition of crimes so contrary to the laws of God and the
security of society. The Illustrious Ten therefore offer,
25 *


388
THE BRAVO.
thus publicly, a reward of one hundred sequins to him
who shall discover the perpetrator of any of these most
horrible assassinations; and, whereas, during the past night,
the body of a certain Antonio, a well-known fisherman,
and a worthy citizen, much esteemed by the patricians, has
been found in the Lagunes, and, whereas, there is but too
much reason to believe that he has come to his death by
the hands of a certain Jacopo Frontoni, who has the repu-
tation of a common Bravo, but who has been long watched,
in vain, by the authorities, with the hope of detecting him
in the commission of some one of the aforesaid horrible
assassinations; now, all good and honest citizens of the
republic are enjoined to assist the authorities in seizing the
person of the said Jacopo Frontoni, even though he should
take sanctuary : for Venice can no longer endure the
presence of one of his sanguinary habits. And for the en-
couragement of the same, the Senate, in its paternal care,
offers the reward of three hundred sequins." The usual
words of prayer and sovereignty closed the proclamation.
was not usual for those who ruled much the
dark, to make their intentions public, all near listened,
with wonder and awe, to the novel procedure. Some
trembled, lest the mysterious and much-dreaded power
was about to exhibit itself; while most found means of
making their admiration of the fatherly interest of their
rulers audible.
Ne heard the words of the officer with more feeling
than Gelsomina. She bent her body far from the window,
in order that not a syllable should escape her."
“Didst thou hear, Carlº demanded the eager girl, a
she drew back her head; “they proclaim, at last, money
for the monster who has committed so many murders !"
Jacopo laughed; but to the ears of his started companion
the sounds were unnatural.
“The patricians are just, and what they dois right,” he


THE BRAVO.
389
2
said. “They are of illustrious birth, and cannot err !
They will do their duty.'
“But here is no other duty than that they owe to God,
and to the people.”
“I have heard of the duty of the people, but little is said
of the Senate's.'
Nay, Carlo, we will not refuse them credit when in
truth they seek to keep the citizens from harm. This Ja-
copo is a monster, detested by all, and his bloody deeds
have too long been a reproach to Venice. Thou hearest
that the patricians are not niggard of their gold, when
there is hope of his being taken.--Listen! they proclaim
again!"
The trumpet sounded, and the proclamation was repeated
between the granite columns of the Piazetta, and quite near
to the window occupied by Gelsomina and her unmoved
companion.
Why dost thou mask, Carlo?" she asked, when the
officer had done; “it is not usual to be disguised, in the
palace, at this bour.”
“ They will believe it the doge, blushing to be an auditor
of his own liberal justice, or they may mistake me for one
of the Three, itself.”
“They go by the quay to the arsenal; thence they will
take boat, as is customary, for the Rialto.”,
“Thereby giving this redoubtable Jacopo timely notice
to secrete himself! Your judges up above are mysterious
when they should be open, and open when they should be
secret. I must quit thee, Gelsomina; go, then, back to the
room of thy father, and leave me to pass out by the court
of the palace.
It may not be, Garlo-thou knowest the permission of
the authorities--I have exceeded--why should I wish to
conceal it from thee ?-but, it was not permitted to thee
to enter at this hour."
27


THE BRAVO.
391
92
have forgotten one of their injunctions, they will not be so
hard of heart as to visit the fault as a crime."
Jacopo gazed at her with pity, for well did he under-
stand how little she knew of the real nature and wily po-
licy of the state.
It is time that we should part,” he said, “lest thy
innocence should be made to pay the price of my mistake.
I am now near the public corridor, and must trust to my
fortune to gain the quay."
Gelsomina hung upon his arm, unwilling to trust him to
his own guidance in that fearful building.
• It will not do, Carlo; thou wilt stumble on a soldier,
and thy fault will be known4 perhaps they will refuse to
let thee come again; perhaps altogether shut the door of
thy poor father's cell."
Jacopo made a gesture for her to lead the way, and fol-
lowed. — With a beating but still lightened heart, Gelsomina
glided along the passages, carefully locking each door as of
wont, behind her, when they had passed through it. At
length they reached the well known Bridge of Sighs. The
anxious girl went on with a lighter step, when she found
herself approaching her own abode, for she was busy in
planning the means of concealing her companion in her
father's rooms, should there be hazard in bis passing out
of the prison during the day.
“ But a single minute, Carlo," she whispered, applying
the key to the door which opened into the latter building-
the lock yielded, but the hinges refused to turn. Gelso-
mina paled as she added—“ They have drawn the bolts
within !"
“No matter; I will go down by the court of the palace,
and boldly pass the halberdier unmasked.”
Gelsomina, after all, saw but little risk of his being
known by the mercenaries who served the doge, and,


892
THE BRAVO.
anxious to relieve him from so awkward a position, she
flew back to the other end of the gallery. Another key was
applied to the door by which they had just entered, with
the same result. Gelsomina staggered back, and sought
support against the wall.
“ We can neither return nor proceed !” she exclaimed,
frightened she knew not why.
“ I see it all," answered Jacopo; “ we are prisoners on
this fatal bridge."
As he spoke, the Bravo calmly removed his mask, and
showed the countenance of a man whose resolution was at
its height.
“ Sancta Madre di Dio! what can it mean?”
“ That we have passed here once too often, love. The
Council is tender of these visits."
The bolts of both doors grated, and the hinges creaked at
the same instant. An officer of the inquisition entered
armed, and bearing manacles. Gelsomina shrieked, but
Jacopo moved not limb or muscle, while he was fettered
and chained.
“I too !" cried his frantic companion. "I am the
most guilty-bind me-cast me into a cell, but let poor
Carlo go.
“ Carlo !" echoed an officer, laughing unfeelingly.
“ Is it such a crime to seek a father in his prison !-
They knew of his visits--they permitted them-he has
only mistaken the hour."
Girl, dost thou know for whom thou pleadest !"
" For the kindest heart-the most faithful son in Venice!
Oh! if ye had seen him weep as I have done, over the
sufferings of the old captive--if ye had seen his very form
shivering in agony, ye would have pity on him !"
Listen,” returned the officer, raising a finger for al-
tention.


THE BRAVO.
393
The trumpeter sounded on the bridge of St. Mark, im-
mediately beneath them, and proclamation was again made,
offering gold for the arrest of the Bravo.
“ 'Tis the officer of the republic, bidding for the head
of one who carries a common stiletto," cried the half-
breathless Gelsomina, who little heeded the ceremony at
that instant; “ he merits his fate.”
“ Then why resist it ?"
“ Ye speak without meaning !"
"Doting girl, this is Jacopo Frontoni !"
Gelsomina would have disbelieved her ears, but for the
anguished expression of Jacopo's eye. The horrible truth
burst upon her mind, and she fell lifeless. At that moment
the Bravo was hurried from the bridge.
CHAPTER XXVII.
“ Let us lift up the curtain, and observe
What passes in that chamber.”
ROCERS.
There were many rumours, uttered in the fearful and
secret manner which characterised the manners of the
town, in the streets of Venice that day. Hundreds passed
near the granite columns, as if they expected to see the
Bravo occupying his accustomed stand, in audacious de-
fiance of the proclamation, for so long and so mysteriously
had he been permitted to appear in publicthat men had
difficulty in persuading themselves he would quit his habits
so easily. It is needless to say that the vague expectation
6


THE BRAVO.
395
1
with an eye
two of these splendid edifices, and it has now become our
duty to convey him, in imagination, to another.
The peculiarity of construction, which is a consequence
of the watery site of Venice, gives the same general cha-
racler to all the superior dwellings of that remarkable town.
The house to which the thread of the narrative now leads
us, had its water-gate, its vestibule, its massive marble
stairs, its inner court, its magnificent suites of rooms above,
its pictures, its lustres, and its floors of precious stones
embedded in composition, like all those which we have
already found it necessary to describe.
The hour was ten, according to our own manner of com-
puting time. A small, but lovely family picture presented
itself, deep within the walls of the patrician abode to which
we have alluded. There was a father, a gentleman who
had scarce attained the middle
age,
in which
spirit, intelligence, philanthropy, and, at that moment, pa-
ternal fondness, were equally glowing. He tossed in his
arms, with parental pride, a laughing urchin of some three
or four years, who rioted in the amusement which brought
him, and the author of his being, for a time, seemingly on
a level. A fair Venetian dame, with golden locks, and
glowing cheeks, such as Titian loved to paint her sex, re-
clined on a couch nigh by, following the movements of
both, with the joint feelings of mother and wife, and laugh-
ing in pure sympathy with the noisy merriment of her
young hope. A girl, who was the youthful image of her-
self, with tresses that fell to her waist, romped with a
crowing infant, whose age was so tender as scarcely to
admit the uncertain evidence of its intelligence. Such was
the scene as the clock of the piazza told the hour. Struck
with the sound, the father set down the boy, and con-
sulted his watch.
“Dost thou use thy gondola to-night, love ?” he dem
manded.


396
THE BRAVO.
“With thee, Paolo P"
• Not with me, dearest; I have affairs which will employ
me until twelve !"
Nay, thou art given to cast me off, when thy caprices
are wayward."
“Say not so. I have named to-night for an interview
with my agent, and I know thy maternal heart too well, to
doubt thy being willing to spare me for that time, while I
look to the interests of these dear ones.
The Donna Giulietta rang for her mantle and attendants.
The crowing infant and the noisy boy were dismissed to
their beds, while the lady and the eldest child descended
to the gondola. Donna Giulietta was not permitted to go
unattended to her boat, for this was a family in which the
inclinations had fortunately seconded the ordinary calcu-
lations of interest, when the nuptial knot was tied. Her
husband kissed her hand, fondly, as he assisted her into
the gondola, and the boat had glided some distance from
the palace, ere he quitted the moist stones of the water-
gate.
“Hast thou prepared the cabinet for my friends ?" de-
manded the Signore Soranzo, for it was the same senator
who had been in company with the doge, when the latter
went to meet the fishermen.
“Signore, yes."
“And the quiet, and the lights-as ordered ?"
!Eccellenza, all will be done."
“ Thou hast placed seats for six-we shall be six.”
Signore, there are six arm-chairs.'
“ 'Tis well; when the first of my friends arrive, I will
join them."
“Eccellenza, there are already two cavalieri in masks,
within."
The Signor Soranzo started, again consulted his watch,
and went hastily towards a distant, and very silent, part of
1
3


THE BRAVO.
397
the palace. He reached a small door unattended, and clos-
ing it, found himself, at once, in the presence of those who
evidently awaited his appearance.
“A thousand pardons, Signori,” cried the master of the
house; “this is novel duty to me, at least-I know not
what may be your honourable experience and the time
stole upon me unmarked. I pray for grace, Messires; fu-
ture diligence shall repair the present neglect.”
Both the visitors were older men than their host, and it
was quite evident, by their hardened visages, they were of
much longer practice in the world. His excuses were re-
ceived with courtesy, and, for a little time, the discourse
was entirely of usage and convention.
We are in secret here, Signore?” asked one of the
guests, after some little time had been wasted in this
manner.
“ As the tomb. None enter here unbidden, but my
wife; and she has, this moment, taken boat, for better en-
joyment of the evening.'
“The world gives you credit, Signore Soranzo, for a
happy menage. I hope you have duly considered the ne-
cessity of shutting the door, even against the Donna Giu-
lietta to-night?”
“Doubt me not, Signore; the affairs of St. Mark are pa-
ramount.”
“ I feel myself thrice happy, Signori, that in drawing a
lot for the secret council, my good fortune hath given me so
excellent colleagues. Believe me, I have discharged this
awful trust, in my day, in less agreeable company.
This flattering speech, which the wily old senator had
made regularly to all with whom chance had associated
him in the inquisition, during a long life, was well received,
and it was returned with equal compliments.
“ It would appear that the worthy Signor Alessandro
Gradenigo was one of our predecessors,” he continued,
2


400
THE BRAVO.
league, which was uttered with the ſervour of young ex-
perience, and the frankness of an upright mind; for there is
a conventional acquiescence in received morals, which is
permitted, in semblance at least, to adorn the most tor-
tuous policy.
“It may be well, Signore Soranzo, to do this homage to
the right,” returned the elder.
“ Here have been sundry
charges found in different Lions' mouths, against the Nea-
politan, Signore Don Camillo Monforte. I leave it to your
wisdom, my illustrious colleagues, to decide on their cha-
racter.”
“An excess of malice betrays its own origin;" exclaimed
the least-practised member of the Inquisition. “My life
on it, Signori, these accusations come of private spleen,
and are unworthy of the state's attention. I have con-
sorted much with the young lord of Sant' Agata, and a
more worthy gentleman does not dwell among us.
“Still hath he designs on the hand of old Tiepolo's
daughter!"
“ Is it a crime in youth to seek beauty! He did great
service to the lady, in her need; and that youth should feel
these sympathies, is nothing strange.'
“Venice baih her sympathies as well as the youngest of
us all, Signore.”
“ But Venice cannot wed the heiress !"
“ True. St. Mark must be satisfied with playing the
prudent father's part. You are yet young, Signore Soranzo,
and the Donna Giulietta is of rare beauty! As life wears
upon ye both, ye will see the fortunes of kingdoms, as well
as families, differently.-But we waste our breath uselessly
in this matter, since our agents have not yet reported
their success in the pursuit. The most pressing affair,
just now, is the disposition of the Bravo. Hath his high-
ness shown you the last letter of the sovereign pontiff, in
the question of the intercepted despatches, Signore?”
22


402
THE BRAVO.
present instance, that the more worldly of its members had
to overcome the generous disposition of a colleague, be-
fore the action of the terrible machine could go on.
It is worthy of remark, that communities always establish
a higher standard of justice and truth, than is exercised by
their individual members. The reason is not to be sought
for, since nature hath left to all a perception of that right,
which is abandoned only under the stronger impulses of
personal temptation. We commend the virtue we cannot
imitate. Thus it is that those countries, in which public
opinion has most influence, are always of the purest public
practice. It follows as a corollary from this proposition,
that a representation should be as real as possible, for its
tendency will be inevitably to elevate national morals. Mi-
serable, indeed, is the condition of that people, whose maxims
and measures of public policy are below the standard of its
private integrity; for the fact not only proves it is not the
master of its own destinies, but the still more dangerous
truth, that the collective power is employed in the fatal
service of undermining those very qualities which are ne-
cessary to virtue, and which have enough to do, at all
times, in resisting the attacks of immediate selfishness. A
strict legal representation of all its interests is far more ne-
cessary to a worldly than to a simple people, since responsi-
bility, which is the essence of a free government, is more
likely to keep the agents of a nation nearer to its own
standard of virtue, than any
other means. The common
opinion that a republic cannot exist, without an extraordi-
nary degree of virtue in its citizens, is so flattering to our
own actual condition, that we seldom take the trouble to
inquire into its truth; but, to us, it seems quite apparent
that effect is here mistaken for the cause. It is said, as the
people are virtually masters in a republic, that the people
ought to be virtuous to rule well. So far as this proposition
is confined to degrees, it is just as true of a republic, as of any


THE BRAVO.
403
other form of government. But kings do rule, and surely all
have not been virtuous; and that aristocracies have ruled
with the very minimum of that quality, the subject of our
tale sufficiently shows. That, other things being equal, the
citizens of a republic will have a higher standard of private
virtue than the subjects of any other form of government,
is true as an effect, we can readily believe; for responsibility
to public opinion existing in all the branches of its admi-
nistration, that conventional morality, which characterizes
the common sentiment, will be left to act on the mass, and
will not be perverted into a terrible engine of corruption,
as is the case when factitious institutions give a false direc-
tion to its influence.
The case before us was in proof of the truth of what has
here been said. The Signore Soranzo was a man of great
natural excellence of character, and the charities of his
domestic circle had assisted in confirming his original dis-
positions. Like others of his rank and expectations, he
had, from time to time, made the history and polity of the
self-styled republic his study, and the power of collective
interests and specious necessities had made him admit
sundry theories, which, presented in another form, he
would have repulsed with indignation. Still the Signore
Soranzo was far from understanding the full effects of that
system, which he was born to uphold. Even Venice paid
that homage to public opinion, of which there has just been
question, and held forth to the world but a false picture
of her true state maxims. Still many of those which were
too apparent to be concealed were difficult of acceptance,
with one whose mind was yet untainted with practice;
and the young senator rather shut his eyes on their
tendency, or, as he felt their influence in every interest
which environed him, but that of poor, neglected, abstract
virtue, whose rewards were so remote, he was fain to seek
26 *


THE BRAVO.
407
1
99
“But he may have been struck in falling, and rendered
unable to do himself this good office.”
• There would he marks to show this, were it true,
Signore.
“Would not Jacopo have used the stiletto ?”
"Perhaps not, on one like Antonio. The gondola of
the old man was found in the mouth of the Grand Canal,
half a league from the body, and against the wind ! we note
these things, Signore, for they are within our knowledge.”
“A happy night to thee, fisherman.”
“A most happy night, eccellenza;” said the labourer of
the Lagunes, gratified with having so long occupied the at-
tention of one he believed so much his superior. The dis-
gaised senator passed on. He had no difficulty in quitting
the cathedral unobserved, and he had his private means of
entering the palace, without attracting any impertinent eye
to his movements. Here he quickly joined his colleagues
of the fearful tribunal.


408
THE BRAVO.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
6. There the prisoners rest together; they hear not the voice of the oppressor."
Job.
The manner in which the Council of Three held its more
public meetings, if aught connected with that mysterious
body could be called public, has already been seen. On
the present occasion, there were the same robes, the same
disguises, and the same officers of the inquisition, as in the
scene related in a previous chapter. The only change was
in the character of the judges, and in that of the accused.
By a peculiar arrangement of the lamp, too, most of the
light was thrown upon the spot it was intended the prisoner
should occupy, while the side of the apartment on which
the inquisitors sate, was left in a dimness that well accorded
with their gloomy and secret duties. Previously to the open-
ing of the door, by which the person to be examined was to
appear, there was audible the clanking of chains, the cer-
tain evidence that the affair in hand was considered serious.
The hinges turned, and the Bravo stood in presence of those
unknown men who were to decide on his fate.
As Jacopo had often been before the council, though ne-
ver as a prisoner, he betrayed neither surprise nor alarm at
the black aspect of all his eye beheld. His features were
composed, though pale, his limbs immoveable, and his mien
decent. When the little bustle of his entrance had sub-
sided, there reigned a stillness in the room.
“Thou art called Jacopo Frontoni ? " said the secretary,
who acted as the mouth-piece of the Three, on this occasion.
>
"I am.


THE BRAVO.
409
27
“Thou art the son of a certain Ricardo Frontoni, a man
well known as having been concerned in robbing the re-
public's customis, and who is thought to have been banished
to a distant island, or to be otherwise punished ?”
“Signore-or otherwise punished.”
“Thou wert a gondolier in thy youth ?”
“I was a gondolier."
"Thy mother is,”
“Dead;” said Jacopo, perceiving the other paused to
examine his notes.
The depth of tone, in which this word was uttered,
caused a silence, that the secretary did not interrupt, until
he had thrown a glance backward at the judges.
She was not accused of thy father's crime ?”
* Had she been, Signore, she is long since beyond the
power of the republic.”
Shortly after thy father fell under the displeasure of the
state, thou quittedst thy business of a gondolier ?”
Signore, I did.”
“Thou art accused, Jacopo, of having laid aside the oar
for the stiletto ?”
“Signore, I am."
“For several years, the rumours of thy bloody deeds
have been growing in Venice, until of late, none have met
with an untimely fate, that the blow has not been attri-
buted to thy hand ?"
“This is too true, Signore Segretario-- I wouldït were
not !”
"The ears of his highness, and of the Councils, have
not been closed to these reports, but they have long attend-
ed to the rumours with the earnestness which becomes a
paternal and careful government. If they have suffered
thee to go at large, it hath only been that there might be
no hazard of sullying the ermine of justice, with a pre-
mature and not sufficiently supported judgment.
2
6


THE BRAVO.
gunes ?
Jacopo bent his head, but without speaking. A smile
so wild and meaning, however, gleamed on his face at this
declaration, that the permanent officer of the secret tribu-
nal, he who served as its organ of communication, bowed
nearly to the paper he held, as it might be to look deeper
into his documents. Let not the reader turn back to this
page in surprise, when he shall have reached the explana-
tion of the tale, for mysticisms quite as palpable, if not of
so ruthless a character, have been publicly acted by poli-
tical bodies in his own times.
“There is now a specific, and a frightful charge brought
against thee, Jacopo Frontoni,” continued the secretary;
“ and, in tenderness of the citizens' life, the dreaded coun-
cil itself hath taken the matter in hand. Didst thou know
a certain Antonio Vecchio, a fisherman here in our La-
”
Signore, I knew him well of late, and much regret
that it was only of late.”
“ Thou knowest, too, that his body hath been found,
drowned in the bay ?”
Jacopo shuddered, signifying his assent merely by a sign..
The effect of this tacit acknowledgment on the youngest
of the three was apparent, for he turned to his companions,
like one struck by the confession it implied. His col-
leagues made dignified inclinations in return, and the si-
lent communication ceased.
“ His death has excited discontent among his fellows,
and its cause has become a serious subject of inquiry for
the Illustrious Council.”
“ The death of the meanest man in Venice should call
forth the care of the patricians, Signore."
“Dost thou know, Jacopo, that thou art accused of
being his murderer ?”
“Signore, I do."
It is said that thou camest among the gondoliers in
66


412
THE BRAVO.
9
what he urged. The other inquisitor, who was the Signore
Soranzo, had drawn near the lamp, anxious to read the
lineaments of one so notorious, and was gazing at his strik-
ing countenance. Touched by the pathos of his voice, and
agreeably disappointed in the lineaments he studied, he
took upon himself the power to grant the request.
“ Humour his wish,” he said to the halberdiers; “but
have him in readiness to reappear.
Jacopo looked his gratitude, but fearful that the others
might still interfere to prevent his wish, he hurried from
the room.
The march of the little procession, which proceeded
from the chamber of the inquisition to the summer cells of
its victims, was sadly characteristic of the place and the
government.
It went through gloomy and secret corridors, that were
hid from the vulgar eye, while thin partitions only sepa-
rated it from the apartments of the doge, which, like the
specious aspect of the state, concealed the nakedness and
misery within, by their gorgeousness and splendour! On
reaching the attic, Jacopo stopped, and turned to his con-
ductors.
- If
you are beings of God's forming,” he said, “take
off these clanking chains, though it be but for a moment.
The keepers regarded each other in surprise, neither
offering to do the charitable office.
“I go to visit, probably for the last time,” continued the
prisoner, "a bedridden-I may say—a dying father, who
knows nothing of my situation,-will ye that he should
see me thus ?”
The appeal, which was made, more with the voice and
manner, than in the words, had its effect. A keeper re-
moved the chains, and bade him proceed. With a cautious
tread, Jacopo advanced; and when the door was opened
he entered the room alone, for none there had sufficient,


THE BRAVO.
413
interest in an interview between a common Bravo and his
father, to endure the glowing warmth of the place, the
while. The door was closed after him, and the room be-
came dark.
Notwithstanding his assumed firmness, Jacopo hesitated,
when he found himself so suddenly introduced to the silent
misery of the forlorn captive. ' A hard breathing told him
the situation of the pallet, but the walls, which were solid
on the side of the corridor, effectually prevented the ad-
mission of light.
“Father !" said Jacopo, with gentleness.
He got no answer.
“Father!” he repeated, in a stronger voice.
The breathing became more audible, and then the cap-
tive spoke.
"Holy Maria hears my prayer!” he said, feebly. “God
hath sent thee, son, to close my eyes !”
“Doth thy strength fail thee, father?”
“Greatly--my time is come-I had hoped to see the
light of the day again; to bless thy dear mother and sister
-God's will be done !"
“ They pray for us both, father. They are beyond the
power of the senate.
" Jacopo—I do not understand thee!”
“My mother and sister are dead; they are saints in
Heaven, father!"
The old man groaned, for the tie of earth had not yet
been entirely severed.
severed. Jacopo heard him murmuring a
prayer, and he knelt by the side of his pallet.
“ This is a sudden blow!" whispered the old man. “We
depart together."
They are long dead, father.'
Why hast thou not told me this before, Jacopo ?”
“ Hadst thou not sorrows enough without this ?-now
22
22
22


411
THE BRAVO.
that thou art about to join them, it will be pleasant to
know, that they have so long been happy.'
“And thou ?-thou wilt be alone-give me thy hand-
poor Jacopo!”
The Bravo reached forth, and took the feeble member of
his parent; it was clammy and cold.
“ Jacopo,” continued the captive, whose mind still
sustained the body, "I have prayed thrice within the hour
--once for my own soul-once for the peace of thy mother
—and, lastly, for thee !”.
« Bless thee, father!-- bless thee! I have need of
prayer!”
“I have asked of God-favour in thy behalf. I have be-
thought me-of all thy love and care of all thy devotion
to my age and sufferings. When thou wert a child, Ja-
copo-tenderness for thee-tempted me to acts of weak-
ness—I trembled lest thy manhood might bring upon me-
pain and repentance. Thou hast not known the yearnings
-of a parent for his offspring-but thou hast well requited
them. Kneel, Jacopo--that I may ask of God-once more,
to remember thee.”
“I am at thy side, father.”
The old man raised his feeble arms, and with a voice,
whose force appeared reviving, he pronounced a fervent and
solemn benediction.
“The blessing of a dying parent will sweeten thy life-
Jacopo,” he added, after a pause, “and give peace to thy
last moments.
It will do the latter, father.”
A rude summons at the door interrupted them.
Come forth, Jacopo,” said a keeper;—the Council seeks
thee!”
Jacopo felt the convulsive start of his father, but he did
not answer.


THE BRAVO.
417
2
Signore, in this, I am. - I have the assurance from
the mouth of Don Camillo Monforte himself, that he will
not return.
“ This is impossible, since it would involve a loss of all
his fair hopes and illustrious fortunes."
· He consoled himself, Signore, with the possession of
the heiress of Tiepolo's love, and with her riches.'
Again there was a movement among the Three, which
all their practised restraint, and the conventional dignity
of their mysterious functions, could not prevent.
* Let the keepers withdraw;" said the inquisitor of the
searlet robe. So soon as the prisoner was alone with the
Three, and their permanent officer, the examination con-
tinued; the senators themselves, trusting to the effect pro-
duced by their masks, and some feints, speaking as occasion
offered.
“ This is important intelligence that thou hast commu-
nicated, Jacopo,” continued he of the robe of flame. “It
may yet redeem thy life, wert thou wise enough to turn it
to account.
“What would your eccellenza, at my hands! It is plain
that the Council know of the flight of Don Camillo ; nor
will I believe, that eyes, which so seldom are closed, have
not yet missed the daughter of the Tiepolo.”
“Both are true, Jacopo; but what hast thou to say of
the means? Remember, that as thou findest favour with
the Council, thine own fate will be decided.”
The prisoner suffered another of those freezing gleams to
cross his face, which invariably caused his examiners to
bend their looks aside.
• The means of escape cannot be wanting to a bold
lover, Signore; ” he replied. “Don Camillo is rich, and
might employ a thousand agents, had he need of them.”
Thou art equivocating ; 'twill be the worse for thee
that thou triflest with the Council—who are these agents ?”
>>
27


418
THE BRAVO.
“He had a generous household, eccelenza; - many
hardy gondoliers, and servitors of all conditions."
“Of these we have nothing to learn. He bath escaped
by other means —or art thou sure he hath escaped at
all?”
Signore, is he in Venice ?"
“Nay, that we ask of thee. Here is an accusation,
found in the Lion's mouth, which charges thee with his
assassination."
“And the Donna Violetta's, too, eccellenza ?"
“Of her, we have heard nothing. What answer dost
thou make to the charge ?”
“Signore, why should I betray my own secrets ?”
“ Ha! art thou equivocating and faithless ? Remember
that we have a prisoner beneath the leads, who can extract
the truth from thee."
Jacopo raised his form to such an altitude, as one might
fancy to express the mounting of a liberated spirit. Still
his eye was sad, and spite of an effort to the contrary, his
voice melancholy.
“Senators,” he said, “your prisoner beneath the leads
is free.”
“How! thou art trifling, in thy despair !"
I speak truth. The liberation, so long delayed, hath
come at last!”
“Thy father-"
“Is dead;" interrupted Jacopo, solemnly.
The two elder members of the Council looked at each
other in surprise, while their junior colleague listened with
the interest of one, who was just entering on a noviciate of
secret and embarrassing duties. The former consulted to-
gether, and then they communicated as much of their opi-
nions to the Signor Soranzo, as they deemed necessary to
the occasion.
“Wilt thou consult thine own safety, Jacopo, and re-


THE BRAVO.
419
veal all thou knowest of this affair of the Neapolitan ?” con-
tinued the inquisitor, when this by-play was ended.
Jacopo betrayed no weakness at the menace implied by
the words of the Senator, but, after a moment's reflection,
he answered with as much frankness as he could have used
at the confessional
“ It is known to you, illustrious senator,” he said, “that
the state had a desire to match the heiress of Tiepolo, to
its own advantage; that she was beloved of the Neapolitan
noble; and that, as is wont, between young and virtuous
hearts, she returned his love, as became a maiden of her
high condition, and tender years. Is there any thing
extraordinary in the circumstance, that two of so illustrious
hopes should struggle to prevent their own misery? Sig-
nori, the night that old Antonio died, I was alone, among
the graves of the Lido, with many melancholy and bitter
thoughts, and life had become a burthen to me. Had the
evil spirit which was then uppermost maintained its mas-
tery, I might have died the death of a hopeless suicide.
God sent Don Camillo Monforte to my succour – praised
be the immaculate Maria, and her blessed Son, for the
mercy: it was there I learned the wishes of the Neapolitan,
and enlisted myself in his service. I swore to him, senators
of Venice, to be true; to die in his cause, should it be
necessary; and to help him to his bride. This pledge have
I redeemed. The happy lovers are now in the states of the
Church, and under the puissant protection of the cardinal
secretary, Don Camillo's mother's brother.
“Fool! why didst thou this? Hadst thou no thought
for thyself?”
· Eccellenza, but little; I thought more of finding a
human bosom to pour out my sufferings to, than of your
high displeasure. I have not known so sweet a moment in
years, as that in which I saw the Lord of Sant' Agata fold
his beautiful and weeping bride to his heart!"
27 *


420
THE BRAVO.'
The inquisitors were struck with the quiet enthusiasm of
the Bravo, and surprise once more held them in suspense.
At length, the elder of the three resumed the examination.
“Wilt thou impart the manner of this escape, Jacopo ?”
he demanded. Remember thou hast still a life to redeem !"
“Signore, it is scarce worth the trouble. But to do you
pleasure, nothing shall be concealed.”—Jacopo then re-
counted, in simple and undisguised terms, the entire
means employed by Don Camillo, in effecting his escape;
his hopes, his disappointments, and his final success. In
this narrative nothing was concealed, but the place in
which the ladies had temporarily taken refuge, and
the name of Gelsomina. Even the attempt of Giacomo
Gradenigo on the life of the Neapolitan, and the agency
of the Hebrew, were fully exposed. None listened to this
explanation so intently as the young husband. . Notwith-
standing his public duties, his pulses quickened as the
prisoner dwelt on the different chances of the lovers ; and
when their final union was proclaimed, he felt his heart
bound with delight. On the other hand, his more prac-
tised colleagues heard the detail of the Bravo, with politic
coolness. The effect of all factitious systems is to render
the feelings subservient to expediency. Convention and
fiction take place of passion and truth, and like the Mussul-
man with his doctrine of predestination, there is no one
more acquiescent in defeat, than he who has obtained an
advantage in the face of nature and justice; his resignation
being, in common, as perfect as his previous arrogance was
insupportable. The two old senators perceived at once,
that Don Camillo, and his fair companion, were completely
beyond the reach of their power, and they instantly admit-
ted the wisdom of making a merit of necessity. Having
no farther occasion for Jacopo, they summoned the keep-
ers, and dismissed him to his cell.
** It will be seemly to send letters of congratulation to


THE BRAVO.
421
the cardinal secretary, on the union of his nephew with
so rich an heiress of our city;" said the Inquisitor of the
Ten, as the door closed on the retiring group. “So
great an interest as that of the Neapolitan, should be pro-
pitiated."
“But should he urge the state's resistance to his hopes ?”
returned the Signore Soranzo, in feeble objection to so bold
a scheme.
6. We will excuse it as the act of a former council.
These misconceptions are the unavoidable consequences
of the caprices of liberty, Signore. The steed that ranges
the plains, in the freedom of nature, cannot be held to perfect
command, like the dull beast that draws the car. This is
the first of your sittings, in the Three, but experience will
show
you, that excellent as we are in system, we are not
quite perfect in practice. This is grave matter of the
young Gradenigo, Signori !"
“ I have long known his unworthiness," returned his
more aged colleague." It is a thousand pities that so
honourable and so noble a patrician should have produced
so ignoble a child. But neither the state, nor the city, can
tolerate assassination.”.
“ Would it were less frequent !” exclaimed the Signore
Soranzo, in perfect sincerity.
Would it were, indeed! There are hints in our
secret information, which tend to confirm the charge of
Jacopo. Indeed long experience has taught us to put full
faith in his reports.'
“ Howmis Jacopo, then, an agent of the police ?"
“ Of that more at our leisure, Signor. Soranzo. At
present we must look to this attempt on the life of one pro-
tected by our laws.”
The Three then entered into a serious discussion of the
case of the two delinquents. Venice, like all despotic go-
vernments, had the merit of great efficiency in its criminal
79


422
THE BRAVO.
police, when it was disposed to exert it. Justice was sure
enough in those instances, in which 'the interests of the
government itself were not involved, or in which bribery
could not well be used. As to the latter, through the jea-
lousy of the state, and the constant agency of those who
were removed from temptation, by being already in pos-
session of a monopoly of benefits, it was by no means as
frequent, as in some other communities, in which the af-
fluent were less interested. The Signore Soranzo had now
a fair occasion for the exercise of his generous feelings.
Though related to the house of Gradenigo, he was not
backward in decrying the conduct of its heir. His first
impulses were to make a terrible example of the accused,
and to show the world that no station brought with it, in
Venice, impunity for crime. From this view of the case,
however, he was gradually enticed by his companions, who
reminded him that the law commonly made a distinction,
between the intention and the execution of an offence.
Driven from his first determination by the cooler heads of
his colleagues, the young inquisitor next proposed that
the case should be sent to the ordinary tribunals, for
judgment. Instances had not been wanting, in which the
aristocracy of Venice sacrificed one of its . body to the
seemliness of Justice; for when such cases were managed
with discretion, they rather strengthened, than weakened
their ascendancy. But the present crime was known to be
too common, to permit so lavish an expenditure of their im-
munities, and the old inquisitors opposed the wish of their
younger colleague, with great plausibility, and with some
show of reason. It was finally resolved that they should
themselves decide on the case.
The next question was the degree of punishment. The
wily senior of the council began by proposing a banishment
for a few months, for Giacomo Gradenigo was already ob-
noxious to the anger of the state, on more accounts than


THE BRAVO.
423
one.
But this punishment was resisted, by the Signore
Soranzo, with the ardour of an uncorrupted and generous
mind. The latter gradually prevailed, his companions
taking care that their compliance should have the air of
concession to his arguments. The result of all this manage-
ment was, that the heir of Gradenigo was condemned 10
ten years' retirement in the provinces, and Hosea to banish-
ment for life. Should the reader be of opinion that strict
justice was not meted out to the offenders, he should re-
member, that the Hebrew ought to be glad to have escaped
as he did.
We must not conceal this judgment, nor its motive,”
observed the Inquisitor of the Ten, when the affair was
concluded. • The state is never a loser for letting its jus-
tice be known.”
“Nor for its exercise, I should hope;" returned the
Signore Soranzo.
“ As our affairs are ended for the night,
is it your pleasures, Signori, that we return to our palaces ?”
Nay, we have this matter of Jacopo.”
· Him may we, now, surely turn over to the ordinary
tribunals !"
“ As you may decide, Signori; is this your pleasure ?”
Both the others bowed assent, and the usual prepa-
rations were made for departure.
Ere the two seniors of the Council left the palace, how-
ever, they held a long and secret conference together. The
result was a private order to the criminal judge; and then
they returned, each to his own abode, like men who had
the approbation of their own consciences.
On the other hand, the Signore Soranzo hastened to his
own luxurious and happy dwelling. For the first time in
his life, he entered it with a distrust of himself. Without
being conscious of the reason, he felt sad, for he had taken
the first step in that tortuous and corrupting path, which
eventually leads to the destruction of all those generous and


THE BRAVO.
425
of one, whose fate he might be said to have witnessed. His
zeal, however, in that moment of excitentent passed unno-
ticed by all, but those whose business it was to suffer no
unusual display of character, nor any unwonted circum-
stance to take place, without attracting their suspicion. As
the Carmelite finally withdrew from the altar, previously to
the removal of the body, he felt the sleeve of his robe slightly
drawn aside, and yielding to the impulse, he quickly found
himself among the columns of that gloomy church with a
stranger.
“ Father, thou hast shrived many a parting soul P” ob-
served, rather than asked, the other.
“It is the duty of my holy office, son. ”
“The state will note thy services; there will be need of thee
when the body of this fisherman is committed to the earth.”
The monk shuddered, but making the sign of the cross,
he bowed his pale face, in signification of his readiness to
discharge the duty. At that moment the bearers lifted the
body, and the procession issued upon the great square.
First marched the usual lay underlings of the cathedral,
who were followed by those who chanted the offices of the
occasion. Among the latter the Carmelite hastened to take
his station. Next came the corpse without a coffin, for
that is a luxury of the grave, even now unknown to the Ita-
lians of old Antonio's degree. The body was clad in the
holiday vestments of a fisherman, the hands and feet being
naked. A cross lay on the breast; the grey hairs were
blowing about in the air : and, in frightful adornment of
the ghastliness of death, a bouquet of flowers was placed
upon the mouth. The bier was rich in gilding and carving,
another melancholy evidence of the lingering wishes and
false direction of human vanity.
Next to this characteristic equipage of the dead walked a
lad, whose brown cheek, half naked body, and dark, roving
eye, announced the grandson of the fisherman. Venice


428
THE BRAVO.
even on the Rialto, and another went into the details of a
murder, which had deprived a mother of her only son,
and the daughter of a patrician of her lover. In this man-
ner, as one after another contributed to the list, a little
group, assembled on the quay, enumerated no less than
five-and-twenty lives, which were believed to have been
taken by the hand of Jacopo, without including the vindic-
tive and useless assassination of him whose funeral rites
had just been celebrated. Happily, perhaps, for his peace
of mind, the subject of all these rumours, and of the ma-
ledictions which they drew upon his head, knew nothing
of either. Before his judges he made no defence what-
ever, firmly refusing to answer their interrogatories.
“Ye know what I have done, Messires,” he said, haugh-
tily. “ And what I have not done, ye know. As for your-
selves, look to your own interests.”
When again in his cell, he demanded food, and ate
tranquilly, though with moderation. Every instrument
which could possibly be used against his life, was then
removed, his irons were finally and carefully examined,
and he was left to his thoughts. It was in this situation
that the prisoner heard the approach of footsteps to his cell.
The bolts turned, and the door opened. The form of a
priest appeared between him and the day. The latter,
however, held a lamp, which, as the cell was again shut
and secured, he placed on the low shelf that held the jug
and loaf of the prisoner.
Jacopo received his visitor calmly, but with the deep
respect of one who reverenced his holy office. He arose,
crossed himself, and advanced as far as the chains permitted,
to do him honour.
“ Thou art welcome, Father," he said; “in cutting me
off from eartb, the Council, I see, does not wish to cut me
off from God."
“That would exceed their power, son. He who died for


THE BRAVO.
429
them, shed his blood for thee, if thou wilt not reject his
grace. But-Heaven knows I say it with reluctance—thou
art not to think that one of thy sins, Jacopo, can have hope
without deep and heartfelt repentance !"
“Father, can I have any ?"
The Garmelite started, for the point of the question, and
the tranquil tones of the speaker, had a strange effect in
such an interview.
“Thou art not what I had supposed thee, Jacopo !” he
answered. “ Thy mind is not altogether obscured in dark-
ness, and thy crimes have been committed against the
consciousness of their enormity!”
“I fear this is true, reverend monk."
“Thou must feel their weight in the poignancy of grief-
in the--” Father Anselmo stopped, for a sob, at that mo-
ment apprised them that they were not alone. Moving
aside, in a little alarm, the action discovered the figure of
the shrinking Gelsomina, who had entered the cell, favoured
by the keepers, and concealed by the robes of the Car-
melite. Jacopo groaned, when he beheld her form, and
turning away, he leaned against the wall.
“Daughter, why art thou here—and who art thou ?” de-
manded the monk.
- 'Tis the child of the principal keeper,” said Jacopo,
perceiving that she was unable to answer; "one known to
me, in my frequent adventures in this prison.”
The
eye
of Father Anselmo wandered from one to the
other. At first its expression was severe, and then, as it
saw each countenance in turn, it became less unkind, until
it softened, at the exhibition of their mutual agony.
• This comes of human passions !” he said, in a tone be-
tween consolation and reproof. “Such are ever the fruits
of crime.”
“Father,” said Jacopo, with earnestness, “I may deserve


430
THE BRAVO.
the word; but the angels in Heaven are scaree purer than
this weeping girl!"
“ I rejoice to hear it. I will believe thee, unfortunate
man; and glad am I, that thy soul is relieved from the sin
of having corrupted one so youthful.”
The bosom of the prisoner heaved, while Gelsomina
shuddered.
“Why hast thou yielded to the weakness of nature, and
entered the cell?" asked the good Carmelite, endeavouring
to throw into his eye a reproof, that the pathos and kind-
ness of his tones contradicted. “Didst thou know the
character of the man thou lovedst?"
“Immaculate Maria!" exclaimed the girl — "no-no-
no!"
“And, now, that thou hast learned the truth, surely
thou art no longer the victim of wayward fancies !"
The gaze of Gelsomina was bewildered, but anguish pre-
vailed over all other expression. She bowed her head,
partly in shame, but more in sorrow, without answer-
ing.
“I know not, children, what end this interview can
answer,” continued the monk-"I am sent hither to re-
ceive the last confession of a Bravo, and surely, one who
has so much cause to condemn the deception he has prac-
tised, would not wish to hear the details of such a life?"
“No-no-no-" murmured Gelsomina again, en-
forcing the words with a wild gesture of the hand.
“ It is belter, father, that she should believe me all that
her fancy can imagine, as monstrous,” said Jacopo, in a
thick voice; "she will then learn to hate my memory.'
Gelsomina did not speak, but the negative gesture was
repeated frantickly.
“The heart of the poor child hath been sorely touched;"
said the Carmelite, with concern. “ We must not treat


THE BRAVO.
433
was many years an innocent inhabitant of one of these ac-
cursed cells, while we believed him in exile, among the
islands. At length we succeeded in getting such proof be-
fore the Council, as ought to have satisfied the patricians
of their own injustice. I am afraid that when men pretend
that the chosen of the earth exercise authority, they are
not ready to admit their errors, for it would be a proof
against the merit of their system. The Council delayed a
weary time to do us justice-so long, that my poor mother
sunk under her sufferings. My sister, a girl of Gelsomina's
years, followed her soon--for the only reason given by the
state, when pressed for proof, was the suspicion, that one
who sought her love was guilty of the crime for which my
unhappy father perished.”
“ And did they refuse to repair their injustice ?" ex-
claimed the Carmelite.
They could not do it, Father, without publishing their
fallibility. The credit of certain great patricians was con-
cerned, and I fear there is a morality in these Councils,
which separates the deed of the man from those of the se-
nators, putting policy before justice.
“ This may be true, son; for when a community is
grounded on false principles, its interests must, of necessity,
be maintained by sophisms. God will view this act with a
different eye!"
“Else would the world be hopeless, Father! After years
of prayers and interest, I was, under a solemn oath of se-
crecy, admitted to my father's cell. There was happiness
in being able to administer to his wants—in hearing his
voice in kneeling for his blessing.
Gelsomina was then
a child approaching womanhood. I knew not their mo-
tive, though after-thoughts left it no secret, and I was per-
mitted to see my father through her means.
When they
believed that I was sufficiently caught in their toils, I was
22
28


(36
THE BRAVO.
"I was his constant guide on these holy errands,
Father.”
The monk mused deeply. After a silence of several
minutes, he proceeded to the duties of his holy office.
Receiving the spiritual confession of the prisoner, he gave
the absolution with a fervour which proved how deeply
his sympathies were enlisted in behalf of the youthful pair.
This duty done, he gave Gelsomina his hand, and there was
a mild confidence in his countenance, as he took leave of
Jacopo.
“We quit thee," he said; “but be of heart, son. I
cannot think that even Venice will be deaf to a tale like
thine! Trust first to thy God, and believe that neither
this faithful girl nor I will abandon thee, without an ef-
fort."
Jacopo received this assurance like one accustomed to
exist in extreme jeopardy. The smile which accompanied
his own adieus, had in it as much of incredulity as of me-
lancholy. It was, however, full of the joy of a lightened
heart.


THE BRAVO.
437
CHAPTER XXX.
“ Your heart
Is free, and quick with virtuous wrath to accuse
Appearances; and views a criminal
In innocence's shadow."
Werner,
The Carmelite and Gelsomina found the keepers in wait-
ing, and when they quitted the cell, its door was secured
for the night. As they had no farther concerns with the
gaolers, they passed on unquestioned. But when the end
of the corridor, which led towards the apartments of the
keeper, was reached, the monk stopped.
“Art thou equal to a great effort, in order that the inno-
cent shall not die ?” he suddenly asked, though with a so-
lemnity that denoted the influence of a high and absorbing
motive.
«Father!"
“I would know if thy love for the youth can sustain thee
in a trying scene; for without this effort he will surely
perish ?".
* I.would die to save Jacopo-a pang!"
“Deceive not thyself, daughter!-Ganst thou forget thy
habits, overstep the diffidence of thy years and condition;
stand and speak fearlessly, in the presence of the great and
dreaded ?"
“Reverend Carmelite, I speak daily, without fear,
though not without awe, to one more to be dreaded than
any in Venice.”
The monk looked in admiration at the gentle being a


442
THE BRAVO.
>>
touching the bell. “I hope my importunity has not de-
ranged you. But here come those I expect.
Father Anselmo and Gelsomina entered the closet toge-
ther. The first glance convinced the doge that he received
strangers. He exchanged looks with the member of the
secret council, and each saw, in the other's eye, that the
surprise was mutual.
When fairly in the presence, the Carmelite threw back
his cowl, entirely exposing the whole of his ascetic features,
while Gelsomina, awed by the rank of him who received
them, shrunk abashed, partly concealed by his robes.
“What means this visit ?" demanded the prince, whose
finger pointed to the shrinking form of the girl, while his eye
rested steadily on that of the monk, "and that unusual
companion ? Neither the hour nor the mode is cus-
tomary.
Father Anselmo stood before the Venetian sovereign for
the first time. Accustomed, like all of that region, and
more especially in that age, to calculate his chances of
success warily, before venturing to disburthen his mind,
the monk fastened a penetrating look on his interrogator.
“Illustrious prince,” he said, “We come petitioners for
justice. They who are thus commissioned had need be
bold, lest they do their own character, and their righteous
office, discredit."
“ Justice is the glory of St. Mark, and the happiness of
his subjects. Thy course, Father, is not according to es-
tablished rules, and wholesome restraints, but it may have
ils apology-name thy errand.”
“ There is one in the cells, condemned of the public tri-
bunals, and he must die with the return of day, unless your
princely authority interfere to save him.
“One condemned of the tribunals may merit his fate.”
“I am the ghostly adviser of the unhappy youth, and in
2


THE BRAVO.
443
the execution of my sacred office, I have learned that he is
innocent."
“Didst thou say condemned of the common judges,
Father”
“Sentenced to die, highness, by a decree of the criminal
tribunals."
The prince appeared relieved. So long as the affair had
been public, there was at least reason to believe he might
indulge his love of the species, by listening farther, without
offence to the tortuous policy of the state. Glancing his
eye at the motionless inquisitor, as if to seek approbation,
he advanced a step nearer to the Carmelite, with increasing
interest in the application.
“By what authority, reverend priest, dost thou impeach
the decision of the judges ?” he demanded.
Signore, as I have just said, in virtue of knowledge
gained in the exercise of my holy oſlice. He has laid bare
his soul to me, as one whose feet were in the
grave,
and,
though offending, like all born of woman, towards his God,
he is guiltless as respects the state."
“Thinkest thou, Father, that the law would ever reach
its victim, were we to listen only to self-accusations ! I
am old, monk, and have long worn that troublesome cap,
pointing to the horned bonnet, which lay near his hand,
the symbol of his state, “and in my day, I do not recal
the criminal that has not fancied himself the victim of un-
toward circumstances."
" That men apply this treacherous solace to their con-
sciences, one of my vocation has not to learn. Our chief
task is to show the delusion of those, who, wbile condemn-
ing their own sins, by words of confession and self-abase-
ment, make a merit of humility; but, Doge of Venice,
there is still a virtue in the sacred rite I have this evening
been required to perform, which can overcome the mount-
ing of the most exalted spirit. Many attempt to deceive.
92
.


444
THE BRAVO.
66
themselves at the confessional, while, by the power of
God, few succeed.”
“Praised be the blessed mother and the incarnate son,
that it is so !" returned the prince, struck by the mild faith
of the monk, and crossing himself reverently. “Father,
thou hast forgotten to name the condemned ?"
“It is a certain Jacopo Frontoni ;-a reputed bravo."
The start, the changing colour, and the glance of the
prince of Venice, were full of natural surprise.
“. Callest thou the bloodiest stiletto that ever disgraced
the city, the weapon of a reputed bravo! The arts of the
monster have prevailed over thy experience, monk;—the
true confession of such a wretch would be but a history
of bloody and revolting crimes.'
I entered his cell with this opinion, but I left it con-
vinced that the public sentiment has done him wrong. If
your highness will deign to hear his tale, you will think him
a fit subject for your pity, rather than for punishment."
“Of all the criminals, of my reign, this is the last in
whose favour I could have imagined there was aught to be
said. |--Speak freely, Carmelite, for curiosity is as strong
as wonder.”
So truly did the doge give utterance to his feelings, that
he momentarily forgot the presence of the inquisitor, whose
countenance might have shown him that the subject was
getting to be grave.
The monk ejaculated a thanksgiving, for it was not al-
ways easy, in that city of mystery, to bring truth to the ears
of the great. When men live under a system of duplicity, ,
more or less of the quality gets interwoven with the habits
of the most ingenuous, although they may remain, them-
selves, unconscious of the taint. Thus Father Anselmo,
as he proceeded with the desired explanation, touched more
tenderly on the practices of the state, and used more of re-
serve in alluding to those usages and opinions, which one


THE BRAVO.
447
“ Thou art the daughter of the prison-keeper ?” asked
the prince mildly, though surprise was strongly painted in
his eye.
29
Highness, we are poor, and we are unfortunate; we
serve the state for bread.”
Ye serve a noble master, child. Dost thou know
aught of this Bravo ?”
“ Dread sovereign, they that call him thus, know not
his heart! One more true to his friends, more faithful to
his word, or more suppliant with the saints, than Jacopo
Frontoni, is not in Venice !"
• This is a character which art might appropriate, even
to a bravo. But we waste the moments.- What have these
Frontoni, in common?”
Highness, they are father and son. When Jacopo came
to be of an age to understand the misfortunes of his family,
he wearied the senators with applications in his father's
behalf, until they commanded the door of the cell to be se-
cretly opened to a child so pious. I well know, great prince,
that they who rule cannot have all-seeing eyes, else could
this wrong never have happened. But Francesco wasted
years in cells, chill and damp in winter, and scorching in
summer, before the falsehood of the accusation was known.
Then, as some relief to sufferings so little merited, Jacopo
was admitted."
With what object, girl ?”
Highness, was it not in pity ? They promised too, that
in good time the service of the son should buy the father's
liberty. The patricians were slow to be convinced, and
they made terms with poor Jacopo, who agreed to undergo
a bard service, that his father might breathe free air be-
fore he died.”
« Thou dealest in enigmas.
“I am little used, great doge, to speak in such a pre-
sence, or on such subjects. But this I know, that for three


THE BRAVO.
449
??
27
“ With the near view of death before his
eyes.
There
are means of rendering truth evident, familiar to those who
are often near the dying penitents, that are unknown to
those of the world. In any case, Signore, the matter is
worthy of investigation.
• In that thou art right. Is the hour named for the exe-
cution?"
“ With the morning light, prince.”
* And the father?”
• Is dead."
“ A prisoner, Carmelite ?”
"A prisoner, Prince of Venice.”
There was a pause.
« Hast thou heard of the death of one named Antonio ?"
resumed the doge, recovering from the shock.
Signore, yes. By the sacred nature of my holy office,
do I affirm that of this crime is Jacopo innocent. I shrived
the fisherman.
The doge turned away, for the truth began to dawn upon
him, and the flush which glowed on his aged cheek, con-
tained a confession that might not be observed by every
eye. He sought the glance of his companion, but his own
expression of human feeling was met by the disciplined
features of the other, as light is coldly repelled from po-
lished stone.
Highness !” added a tremulous voice.
What wouldst thou, child ?”
« There is a God for the republic, as well as for the
gondolier! Your highness will turn this great crime from
Venice ?”
- Thou art of plain speech, girl !"
“ The great danger of Carlo has made me bold. You
are much beloved by the people, and none speak of you,
that they do not speak of your goodness, and of your
desire to serve the poor. You'are the root of a rich and
29


450
THE BRAVO.
97
happy family, and you will not-nay, you cannot if you
would, think it a crime for a son to devote all to a fa-
ther. You are our father, and we have a right to come
to you, even for mercy-but, highness, I ask only for
justice."
Justice is the motto of Venice."
They who live in the high favour of Providence do not
always know what the unhappy undergo. It has pleased
God to afflict my own poor mother, who has griefs that,
but for her patience and christian faith, would have been
hard to bear. The little care I had it in my power to
show, first caught Jacopo's eye, for his heart was then full
of the duty of the child. Would your highness consent
to see poor Carlo, or to command him to be brought
hither, his simple tale would give the lie to every foul
slander they have dared to say against him.”
It is unnecessary-it is unnecessary. Thy faith in his
innocence, girl, is more eloquent than any words of his
can prove."
A gleam of joy irradiated the face of Gelsomina, who
turned eagerly to the listening monk, as she continued-
“ His highness listens," she said, “and we shall pre-
vail ! Father, they may menace in Venice, and alarm the
limid, but they will never do the deed we feared. Is not
the God of Jacopo my God, and your God ?-the God of
the senate, and of the doge ?--of the Council, and of the
republic ? I would the secret members of the Three could
have seen poor Jacopo, as I have seen him, coming from
his toil, weary with labour, and heart-broken with delay,
enter the winter or the summer cell-chilling or scorching
as the season might be and struggling to be cheerful, that
the falsely-accused might not feel a greater weight of ni-
sery.-Oh! venerable and kind prince, you little know the
burthen that the feeble are often made to carry, for to you
life has been sunshine; but there are millions who are con-


454
THE BRAVO.
dignity and composure. As his eye moved slowly over the
array of human countenances by which he was environed,
a hectic glowed on his features, for not one of them all be-
trayed sympathy in his sufferings. His breast heaved, and
those nearest to his person thought the self-command of
the miserable man was about to fail him. The result dis-
appointed expectation. There was a shudder, and the
limbs settled into repose.
“ Thou hast looked in vain, among the multitude, for a
friendly eye?” said the Carmelite, whose attention bad
been drawn to the convulsive movement.
“None here have pity for an assassin.
"Remember thy Redeemer, son. He suffered ignominy
and death, for a race that denied his God-head, and de-
rided his sorrows.
Jacopo crossed himself, and bowed his head, in re-
37
Verence.
“ last thou more prayers to repeat, Father?” demanded
the chief of the Sbirri; he who was particularly charged
with the duty of the hour. “ Though the illustrious coun-
cils are so sure in justice, they are merciful to the souls of
sinners."
“Are thy orders peremptory?" asked the monk, un-
consciously fixing his eye, again, on the windows of the
palace. “Is it certain that the prisoner is to die?"
The officer smiled at the simplicity of the question, but
with the apathy of one too much familiarized with human
suffering to admit of compassion.
“Do any doubt it ?” he rejoined. “It is the lot of man,
reverend monk; and more especially is it the lot of those
on whom the judgment of St. Mark has alighted. It were
better that your penitent looked to his soul."
“Surely thou hast thy private and express commands?
They have named a minute, when this bloody work is to
be performed ?"


THE BRAVO.
455
• Holy Carmelite, I have. The time will not be weary,
and you will do well to make the most of it, unless you have
faith, already, in the prisoner's condition.'
As he spoke, the officer threw a glance at the dial of the
square,
and walked coolly away. The action left the priest
and the prisoner again alone, between the columns. It was
evident that the former could not yet believe in the reality
of the execution.
“ Hast thou no hope, Jacopo ?” he asked.
“Carmelite, in my God.”
They cannot commit this wrong! I shrived Antonio
-I witnessed his fate, and the prince knows it !",
“What is a prince and his justice, where the selfishness
of a few rules! Father, thou art new in the senate's ser-
vice.”
2)
“I shall not presume to say that God will blast those
who do this deed, for we cannot trace the mysteries of his
wisdom. This life, and all this world can offer, are but
specks in his omniscient eye, and what to us seems evil
may be pregnant with good. -Hast thou faith in thy Re-
deemer, Jacopo ?”
The prisoner laid his hand upon his heart, and smiled,
with the calm assurance that none but those who are thus
sustained can feel.
“We will again pray, my son.'
The Carmelite and Jacopo kneeled, side by side, the lat-
ter bowing his head to the block, while the monk uttered
a final appeal to the mercy of the Deity.
. The former
arose, but the latter continued in the suppliant attitude.
The monk was so full of holy thoughts, that, forgetting his
former wishes, he was nearly content the prisoner should
pass into the fruition of that hope which elevated his own
mind. The officer and executioner drew near, the former
touching the arm of Father Anselmo, and pointing towards
the distant dial.



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