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*FORDHAM MORRIS


THE
B R A VO:
A TALE.
BY THE AUTHOR OF “ THE SPY," “ THE RED ROVER,”
“THE WATER-WITCH," &c.
Giustizia in pulazzo, e pane in piazza.
IN TWO YOLUMES.
VOL 1
Philadelphia:
CAREY & LEA-CHESTNUT STREET.
1831.


THENEW YOK
PUBLIC LIBRAR
24.5161
ASTOR, LENOX AND
TILDEN FOUNDATIONS:
1902
Entered according to the Act of Congress in the year 1831, by
CAREY & LEA, in the Clerk's office of the District Court of the East-
ern District of Pennsylvania.
STEREOTYPED BY J. HOWE.


PREFACE.
It is to be regretted the world does not
discriminate more justly in its use of politi-
cal 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 mannikin. In the latter we find
aristocracies and democracies blended in
the same generic appellation. The conse-
quence of a generalization so wide is an
utter confusion, on the subject of the polity
of states.
The author has endeavored to give his
countrymen, in this book, a picture of the
social system of one of the soi-disant re-
publics of the other hemisphere. There has
been no attempt to portray historical cha-
racters, only too fictitious in their graver
dress, but simply to set forth the familiar
operations of Venetian policy. For the
justification of his likeness, after allowing
for the defects of execution, he refers to the
well-known work of M. Daru.
A 2


Vi
PREFACE.
A history of the progress of political lib-
erty, written purely in the interests of hu-
manity, is still a desideratum in literature.
In nations which have made a false com-
mencement, it would be found that the citi-
zen, or rather the subject, has extorted im-
munity after immunity, as his growing intel-
ligence and importance have both instructed
and required him to defend those particular
rights which were necessary to his well-being.
A certain accumulation of these immunities
constitutes, with a solitary and recent excep-
tion in Switzerland, the essence of European
liberty, even at this hour. It is scarcely
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, concessions of natural rights
made by the people to the state, for the ben-
efits of social protection. So long as this
vital difference exist between ourselves and
other nations, it will be vain to think of find-
ing analogies in their institutions. 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


PREFACE.
vii
Christendom, must, in some degree, respect
its influence. The mildest and justest gov-
ernments in Europe are, at this moment,
theoretically despotisms. The character of
both prince and people enter largely into the
consideration of so extraordinary results,
and it should never be forgotten that, though
the character of the latter be sufficiently
secure, that of the former is liable to change.
But, admitting every benefit which can pos-
sibly 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 the necessity of
supporting itself by physical force and oner-
ous impositions, against the natural action
of the majority.
Were we to characterize a republic, we
should say it was a state in which power, ,
both theoretically and practically, is derived
from the nation, with a constant responsibil-
ity of the agents of the public to the peo-
ple; 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 institutions,


viii
PREFACE.
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 the
subjects of sinister passions, than the inhab-
itants of a single town, or county. If to
this definition we should add, as an infallible
test of the genius, that a true republic is a
government of which all others are jealous
and vituperative, on the instinct of self-pre-
servation, we believe there would be no mis-
taking 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 thousand years their cloudy wings expand
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 sate in state, throned on her hundred isles."
BYRON.
Around me,
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 cavalieri and grave
cittadini; soldiers of Dalmatia, and seamen 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,
adventurer, podestà, valet, avvocato and gondolier,
held their
way
alike to the common centre of amuse-
ment. The hurried air and careless eye; the mea-
sured 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 univer-
sal movement and bustle, added to the more perma-


10
THE BRAVO.
nent objects of the place, rendered the scene the
most remarkable of Christendom.
On the very confines of that line which separates
western from eastern Europe, and in constant com-
munication 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 at the pe-
riod of our tale, the city of the isles, though no
longer mistress of the Mediterranean, nor even of
the Adriatic, was still rich and powerful. Her in-
fluence was felt in the councils of the civilized
world, and her commerce, though waning, was yet
sufficient to uphold the vast possessions of those
families, whosè 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 de-
cline be of a moral or of a physical decay.
At the hour we have named, the vast parallelo-
gram 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 massive
pile of the Ducal Palace, the most ancient Christian
church, the granite co’umns of the piazzetta, the
triumphal masts of the great square, and the giddy
tower of the campanile, were slumbering in the
more mellow glow of the moon.
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 remarka-
ble structure presided over the other fixtures of the
place, like a monument of the republic's antiquity


THE BRAVO.
11
제
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)
31
it
le
and greatness. Its Saracenic architecture, 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 Corinth 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 re-
collections which crowd the mind as the eye gazes
f
at this rare relic of the past.
As fit companions to this edifice, the other pecu-
liar ornaments of the place stood at hand. The
base of the campanile lay in shadow, but a hundred
feet of its gray summit received the full rays of the
moon along its eastern face. The masts destined
ls
to bear the conquered ensigns of Candia, Constan-
tinople, 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
ya
the azure sky.
It was near the base of the former of these massive
te blocks of stone, that one stood who seemed to gaze
at the animated and striking scene, with the listless-
ness and indifference of satiety. A multitude, some
pin masques and others careless of being known, had
poured along the quay into the piazzetta, on their
way to the principal square, while this individual had
scarce turned a glance aside, or changed a 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 good-humored eye, he appeared to
i attend some beck of authority ere he quitted the
1 spot. A silken jacket, in whose tissue flowers of
).
€
e


12
THE BRAVO.
the gayest colors were interwoven, the falling col-
lar 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 arrested his look, this individual turned
away, and faced the light air from the water. Re-
cognition and pleasure shot into his countenance,
and in a moment his arms were interlocked with
those of a swarthy mariner, who wore the loose at-
tire 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 planting flowers for an infidel with thy hands,
and watering them with thy tears!”
The answer was in the harsher dialect of Cala-
bria, and it was given with the rough familiarity of
a seaman.
· La Bella Sorrentina is no housekeeper of a cu-
rato! She is not a damsel to take a siesta with a
Tunisian rover prowling about in her neighbor-
hood. 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 kis
care. There was much praying on thy decks that
hour, caro Stefano, though none is bolder among
the mountains of Calabria when thy felucca is once
safely drawn upon the beach!"
The mariner cast a half-comic, half-serious glance
upward at the image of the patron saint, ere he re-
plied.
“ There was more need of the wings of thy lion
than of the favor of thy saint. I never come fur-


THE BRAVO.
13
1
ther north for aid than San Gennaro, even when it
blows a hurricane."
“ So much the worse for thee, caro, since the
good bishop 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, Stefano ?”
“ISI was more like thy lion, here, with some
small additions of chains and muzzles."
“ As was seen by thy felucca's speed ?"
“Cospetto! I wished myself a knight of San Gio-
vanni a thousand times during the chase, and La
Bella Sorrentina a brave Maltese galley, if it were
only for the cause of Christian honor! The mis-
creant 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
bastinado, 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 thire
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 brings. If my soles are to be shod with
Vol. I.
B


14
THE BRAVO.
blows, the honest 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 befell Pietro. Thou rememberest
Pietrillo ? he who crossed into Dalmatia with thee
once, as a supernumerary, the time he was suspect-
ed of having aided the young Frenchman in run-
ning away with a senator's daughter ?”
“Do I remember the last famine? The rogue
did nothing but eat maccaroni, and swallow the
lachrymæ christi, which the Dalmatian count had
on freight."
“ Poverino! His gondola has been run down by
an Ancona man, who passed over the boat, as if it
were a senator stepping on a fly."
- “ So much for little fish coming into deep water.”
“ The honest fellow was crossing the Guidecca,
with a stranger who had occasion to say his pray-
ers at the Redentore, when the brig hit him in the
canopy, and broke up the gondola as if it had been
a bubble left by the Bucentaur."
“ The padrone should have been too generous to
complain of Pietro's clumsiness, since it met with
its own punishment."


THE BRAVO
15
« Madre di Dio! He went to sea that hour, or he
might be feeding the .fishes of the Lagunes! There
is not a gondolier 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 master, Gino ? and is he likely to obtain
his claims of the senate ?"
6. He cools himself in the Giudecca in the morn.
ing; and if thou would'st 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, a spot sacred, at times, to the uses of
the privileged.
“ I am no stranger to the habit thy Venetian no-
bles 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 Chris-
tian.”
“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 An-
cona-man performed his ſeat: 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 ut-


16
THE BRAVO.
.
tered concerning any young lady, or of the death
of her uncle !"
“ Thou wert thinking of thy Tunis-man, and hast
forgotten. I must have told thee how near the
beautiful signora was to sharing the fate of the
gon-
dola, 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 gon-
dolier !”
“ It may have been lucky for the Ancona-man that
it so fell out, for they say the Roman was one of in-
fluence enough to make a senatör cross the Bridge
of Sighs, at need.”
6 The devil take all careless watermen, say I!-
And what became of the awkward rogue ?"
“ I tell thee he went outside the Lito, that very
hour,
or?
on
“ Pietrello?"
“He was brought up by the oar of Giorgio, for
both of us were active in saving the cushions and
other valuables.”
“ Could'st 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
some rock that is harder than the heart of
her padrone. As for the stranger, we could do no
more than oifer 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 de-
nounce 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 humor.


THE BRAVO
11
night?
“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."
“ 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 butch-
ers, to proclaim the manner in which he passed the
“ Diamine! Twould be the last night I served
the Duca di Sant' Agata, were my tongue so limber!
The gondolier and the confessor 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
between 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 mist-
ral, shoot the Faro of Messina in a white squall,
double Santa Maria de Leuca in a breathing Le-
vanter, and come skimming up the Adriatic, before
a sirocco that is hot enough to cook my maccaroni,
and which sets the whole sea boiling worse than the
caldrons of Scylla.”
66
B 2


18
THE BRAVO.
“ Hist!" eagerly interrupted the gondolier, who
had indulged, with Italian humor, 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-Ec-
colo!”
The Calabrian recoiled apace, in silence, and
stood regarding the individual who had caused this
hurried remark, with a gloomy but steady air. The
stranger moved slowly past. His years were under
thirty, though the calm gravity 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 discase. The
perfect condition of the physical man was sufficient-
ly exhibited in the muscular fullness of a body
which, though light and active, gave every indica-
tion of strength. His step was firm, assured, and
even; his carriage erect and easy, and his whole
mien was strongly characterized by a self-posses-
sion 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 coun-
tries of Europe, with other vestments of a similar
fashion, composed his dress. The face was melan-
choly rather than sombre, and its perfect repose ac-
corded 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 ar-
ray 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 com-
panion, but the look, though searching, was entirely
without interest. 'Twas the wandering but wary


THE BRAVO.
1.
glance, which men, who have much reason to dis-
trust, habitually cast on a multitude. It turned, with
the same jealous keenness, on the face of the next it
encountered, and by the time the steady and well-bal-
anced 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 Cala-
bria spoke, until their riveted gazes after the retiring
figure, became useless. Then the former simply
ejaculattd, 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 Mar-
co ?” 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 wculd sooner lose
their hopes of the horned bonnet, than lose him. Ja-
copo! He knows more family secrets than the good
Priore of San Marco himself, and he, poor man, is
half his time in the confessional."
“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 hailing a Sicilian through thy trumpet, though
the fact should be so. To
say
the truth, there are
few men in business who are thought to have more


20
THE BRAVO.
zetta,"
custom than he who has just gone up the piaz-
“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, leave a man leisure
to tell tales, or even to say his prayers half the
time.”
Jacopo !” ejaculated the other, with an empha-
sis 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
pause, “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
Teodoro. 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 fleet-
ness, in rounding the headlands of Otranto, who
seemed to have half a mind to follow the felucca in
her path towards 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
66


THE BRAVO
21
1
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 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 t'e reputation of talking boldly
of the foundation of this city of pil :, 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 colors, and softener of fears. My
own opinion 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
quickest 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 irreverend re-
mark 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


22
THE BRAVO.
course.
has lent to their sons. And so, Stefano, thou think
est the republic will never plant another mast of tri-
umph in San Marco, or bring more trophies 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 master to his Calabrian castle; but if thou
would'st know what passes in the wide world, thou
must be content to listen to mariners of the long
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
Genoese, Stefano, that thou comest hither with these
idle tales of what a heretic can do. Genova la Su-
perba! What has a city of walls to compare with
one of canals and islands, like this ?-and what has
that Apennine republic performed, to be put in com-
parison 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 nothing, 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.
joyment 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 Napoli, except those who
had the best right to the services of both."
The en-


THE BRAVO.
23
INTE
66
21.2
“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 gon-
dolier.
“Signore.
He who interrupted the dialogue pointed to the
DOVE boat, without saying more.
“A rivederti,” hastily muttered the gondolier.
thes
His friend squeezed his hand in perfect amity-for,
the in truth, they were countrymen by birth, though
home chance had trained the former on the canals-and,
, and at the next instant, Gino was arranging the cushions
for his master, having first aroused his subordinate
lry brother of the oar from a profound sleep.
ad
COM
CHAPTER II.
Hast ever swam in a gondola at Venice?
SHAKSPEARE.
TE
When Don Camillo Monforte entered the gondo-
la, he did not take his seat in the pavilion. With an
t! arm leaning on the top of the canopy, and his cloak
com" thrown loosely over one shoulder, the young noble
stood, in a musing attitude, until his dexterous servi-
cop tors had extricated the boat from the little fleet
mes which crowded the quay, and had urged it into open
e water. This duty performed, Gino touched his
scarlet cap, and looked at his master, as if to inquire
the direction in which they were to proceed. He
gru was answered by a silent gesture, that indicated the
car route of the great canal.
“ Thou hast an ambition, Gino, to show thy skill
ic in the regatta ?" Don Camillo observed, when they
I had made a little progress.
“ The motive merits


24
THE BRAVO.
success. Thou wast speaking to a stranger, when
I summoned thee to the gondola ?”
“ I was asking the news of our Calabrian hills
from one who has come into port with his felucca,
though the man 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 recom-
mended it, with many a devout prayer, to the Virgin
and to San Francesco."
The noble appeared to lend more attention to the
discourse, which, until now, on his part, had been
commenced in the listless manner with which a su-
perior encourages an indulged dependant.
“ La Bella Sorrentina! Have I not reason to
know the bark ?"
“Nothing more true, Signore. Her padrone has
relations at Sant' Agata, as I have told your eccel-
lenza, 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 eccellenza's colors 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 an-
cient neighborhood would warrant, but he was as
cautious of his answers as if he were freighted
with the confessions of fifty Christians. Now, if
your eccellenza should see fit to give me authority
to question him, in your name, the deuce is in't if,


28
THE BRAVO.
ingly raised on story, in the wanton observance of
the most capricious rules of meretricious architec-
ture, until the pile reached an altitude that is little
known, except in the dwellings of princes. Colon-
nades, medallions, and massive cornices, overhung
the canal, as if the art of man had 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, con-
ducted 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 col-
lision with the passing craft, by piles driven oblique-
ly into the bottom. Similar spars, with painted and
ornamented heads, that sometimes bore the colors
and arms of the proprietor, formed a sort of little
haven for the gondolas of the household, before the
door of every dwelling of mark.
“ Where is it the pleasure of your eccellenza to be
rowed ?" asked Gino, when he found his sympathetic
delay 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 whirled aside, and the hollow sound, caused
by the plash of water between high walls, announc-
ed its entrance into a narrower canal. With short-
ened oars, the men still urged the boat ahead, 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,


THE BRAVO.
27
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."
Neither the vestibule, nor the entrance, nor the
other visible accessories 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 favor with Jupiter
must put his own shoulder to the wheel, thou know-
est, 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 suit of
gloomy apartments, before the gratitude and profes-
sional 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 Camillo, 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 would'st thou distinguish a man?"
56


28
THE BRAVO.
“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."
“ He I mean has been long remarked by the mis-
fortunes of his family, the father being now in exile
on the Dalmatian coast, or elsewhere."
“Eccellenza, yes."
“ There are many of the name of Frontoni, and
it is important that thou should'st 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 pleasantries 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 amazement, 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 him-
self. He replaced the papers which had been de-
ranged, and he closed the secretary,
“Gino,” he said, in a tone of confidence and ami-
66


THE BRAVO.
29
the pea
er her
W IN 1
ntoni
, a
istakes
of 30
elanch
at, than
OTTS, 23
indust
ty, " 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 should'st end thy days
where they began. I have had much confidence in
thy discretion, 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 disposed to si-
lence.”
6 Eccellenza, yes."
Don Camillo smiled; but the gleam of humor
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 pal-
ace, which leads to the canal of San Marco,
beneath
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 re-
spect, but with an awe he could not conceal. Ha-
bitual 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
C 2
for an
en of hi
nath his
as we
Rialto
29
rself 1
ong the
n som
zit, and
easur
-t him
en de
ami


80
THE BRAVO.
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
command 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 meadows.”
“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 gon-
dolier, thou art properly a being of my fiefs, in
Napoli.”
“St. Gennaro make me grateful for the honor,
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 anywhere but in the bo-
som 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 him beneath the Bridge of Sighs,
and, showing the signet, deliver the package ac-
cording to my instructions.”
“ It is certain loss of character to be seen speak-
ing with the miscreant! So lately as yesterday, I
heard Annina, the pretty daughter of the old wine-
seller on the Lido, declare, that to be seen once in
company with Jacopo Frontoni was as bad as to be
caught twice bringing old rope from the arsenal, as
befell Roderigo, her mother's cousin."
Thy distinctions savor of the morals of the
Lido. Remember to exhibit the ring, lest he distrust
thy errand."
"Could not your eccellenza set me about clipping


32
THE BRAVO.
half-a-dozen menials of different employments were
in waiting, he passed by one of the narrow corri-
dors 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 opportu-
nity of personally examining the remarkable 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 as to have visited Italy, therefore, will ex-
cuse 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 im-
mense plain of Lombardy itself, is of alluvial forma-
tion. Whatever may have been the origin of that
wide and fertile kingdom, the causes which have
given to the Lagunes their existence, and to Venice
its unique and picturesque foundation, are too appa-
rent 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, pulverized
nearly to their original elements. Released from
the violence of the stream, these particles have ne
cessarily been deposited in the gulf, at the spot
where they have first become subjected to the pow-
er of the sea. Under the influence of counteract-
ing currents, eddies, and waves, the sands have been
thrown into submarine piles, until some of the banks
have arisen above the surface, forming islands,
whose elevation has been gradually augmented by


THE BRAVO.
33
the decay of vegetation. A glance at the map will
show that, while the Gulf of Venice is not literally,
it is, practically, considered with reference to the
effect produced by the south-east wind called the Si-
rocco, at the head of the Adriatic. This accidental
circumstance is probably the reason why the La-
gunes 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 Apennines,
into the same shallow sea.
The natural consequence of a current of a river
meeting the waters of any broad basin, and where
there is no base of rock, is the formation, at or near
the spot where 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 constant
and powerful operation of the south-eastern winds
on one side, with the periodical increase of the Al-
pine 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 necessarily 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 extraordinary estuary, as to convert the chan-
nels 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 maritime security to the port of Venice and the
Lagunes, is called the Lido di Palestrino. It has
been artificially connected and secured, in many


34
THE BRAVO.
places, and the wall of the Lido (literally the beach),
though incomplete, like most of the great and vaunt-
ed works of the other hemisphere, and more par-
ticularly 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, dur-
ing the middle ages, was the mart of the Mediter-
ranean, are grouped together 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
neighboring town, which has been fostered by po-
litical care, and the gradual filling up of the waters,
by the constant deposit of the streams, it would be
difficult to imagine a more commodious, or a safer
haven when entered, than that which Venice af.
fords, even to this hour.
As all the deeper channels of the Lagunes have
been preserved, the city is intersected, in every di-
rection, by passages, which, from their appearance,
are called canals, but which, in truth, are no more
than so many small natural 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 ex-
tend their possessions to the very verge of the chan-
nel, in the manner that quays and wharfs are pushed
into the streams in our own country. In many
in-
stances the islands themselves were no more than
banks, which were periodically 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 labor, has given to
by far the greater part of the buildings the facility


36
THE BRAVO.
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 at 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
more comely with those silken flowers, than in this
faded velveteen; and if I have ever said aught in
commendation 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 com-
panions, 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 moralized 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 secretary to indite. A "
maiden should be discreet in affairs of this sort,
for one never knows but he may make a confidant
of a rival.”
Every word of it as true as if the devil him.
self had done the office for me, girl," muttered Gino,
uncasing himself from his flowery vestment, and as


THE BRAVO.
37
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 counte-
nance," she answered, throwing him, notwithstand-
ing, both the articles he required.
“ This is well-Father Battista himself, who
boasts he can tell a sinner from a penitent merely
by the savor of his presence, would never suspect
a servitor of Don Camillo Monforte in this dress!
Cospetto! but I have half a mind 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 conse-
quences, 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 ?"
“ 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 brother Luigi to Fusini, and the two serving-
men on the usual business to the islands, or how
else should I be alone?"
.66 Diavolo! is there no boat in the canal ?"
“ Thou art in unwonted haste, Gino, now thou
hast a mask and a jacket of velvet! I know not
that I should suffer 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
jeaves 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
VOL. I.
D


38
THE BRAVO.
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 !"
6 '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
reasonable girl, Annina. I have told thee that I am
on business of the last importance, and that delay
may bring heavy calamities.”
«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?"
“ Have I not told thee, girl, 'tis an errand of
great concern to six noble families, and if I fail to
be in season, there may be a strife—ay, between
the Florentine and the republic !"
“ Thou hast said nothing of the sort, nor do I
put faith 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 extremity, for I find the bell has only tolled
the quarters, which leaves me yet a moment for
confidence."
“ Thou lookest at the wall, Gino, and art con-
sulting 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.”


THE BRAVO.
39
“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
the carelessness of an Ancona-man, 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 varia-
tion of a gondolier's anger ?."
Well, the matter is likely to come to a conclu-
sion this night; my master is about to do, as I fear,
a very foolish 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 temper-
ament, long habit, or great familiarity with the
character of her companion, however, she did not
listen to his explanation without betraying some
doubts of its truth.
6. This will be a sudden bridal feast !” she said,
after a moment of
pause.
__"'Tis well that few are
invited, or its savor 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 to 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


40
THE BRAVO.
Camillo keeps me so much upon the water of late,
that I do little beside dream, 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 conscience, like a man.”
“I would that thy father would make the ac-
quaintance of Stefano Milano !” resumed the gon-
dolier, taking a long breath, after a still longer
draught. “ 'Tis a padrone of Calabria, who often-
times brings into the port excellent liquors 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 present, and, if thou wilt, he shall not be long
without coming into terms with thee for a few
skins.”
“I doubt if he have better liquors than this which
hath ripened upon the sands of the Lido. Take an-
other 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 cer-
tain 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
97


THE BRAVO
41
the Calabrian. Thou knowest my father hath
much confidence in my judgment in matters like
this.”
While Gino stood half stupified, and half delight-
ed 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 descrip-
tion was fastened near, and the girl entered it, with-
out appearing to think any further arrangement ne-
cessary. The servant of Don Camillo 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.
CHAPTER III.
What well-appointed leader fronts us here?
King Henry VI.
The presence of Annina was a grave embarrass-
ment 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
favor of the wine-seller's daughter. 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 flavor, had caused a mo-
mentary confusion in the brain of Gino, that re-
quired time to disperse. The boat was in the grand
canal, and far on its way to the place of its destina
D 2


THE BRAVO.
tion, before this happy purification of the intellects
of the gondolier had been sufficiently effected. By
that time, however, the exercise of rowing, the fresh
air of the evening, and the sight of so many accus-
tomed objects, restored his faculties to the neces...
sary 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 Calabrian.
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 mari-
time states of Europe were seen, at intervals, with-
in 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 more massive and heavy hamper of regularly
rigged ships, was to be seen rising above the tran-
quil 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 Candian trader,
Gino; therefore, ply thy oar, for time presses."
* There's plenty of rough Greek wine in his hold;
but, as thou sayest, we have naught 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 re-
public, girl, when it first permitted the stranger to
come into the waters of the Adriatic !"
"Is it certain, Gino, that the arm of St. Mark
was strong enough to keep him out ?"


THE BRAVO
« Per Diana! Master Gino, thou puttest thy ques-
tions with little ceremony. The hold of the felucca
is empty, as thou mayest see by stepping to the
hatches; 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 cathedral, 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,"
whispered Gino, when he found that the wary An-
nina 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 gondolier in
Venice but will resort to thy shop, if the intercourse
with this fellow can be fairly settled."
Annina hesitated ; long practised in the small, but
secret, and exceedingly hazardous commerce,
which her father, notwithstanding the vigilance and
severity of the Venetian police, had thus far suc-
cessively driven, she neither liked to risk an expo-
sure of her views to an utter stranger, nor to aban-
don a bargain that promised to be lucrative. That
Gino trifled with her, as to his true errand, needed
no confirmation, since a servant of the Duke of
Sant' Agata was not likely to need a disguise
to search a priest; but she knew his zeal for her
personal welfare too well, to distrust his faith in a
matter that concerned her own safety.
“ If thou distrust that any here are the spies of
the authorities,” she observed to the padrone, with a
manner that readily betrayed her wishes," it will be
in Gino's power to undeceive thee.-Thou wilt testi-


46
THE BRAVO.
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 sud-
den, rapid, and noiseless; but the jealous eye of
Annina detected the escape of the gondolier, though
not in time to prevent it. Without betraying uneasi-
ness, she submitted 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 pres-
ence 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 vessels, inclining, by the skilful manage-
ment of his single oar, in a manner to avoid all colli-
sion, until it entered the narrow canal which sepa-
rates the palace of the Doge from the more beauti-
ful and classic structure that contains the prisons of
the republic. The bridge, which continues the com-
munication 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 appropriated 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


THE BRAVO.
47
gondola approached a flight of steps, over which,
as usual, the water cast 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
ľ 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,
F here and there, the footfall of other sentinels might
d
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 em-
blem of that mysterious power which was known
to preside over the fortunes of Venice and her citi-
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
entrance of the court, where they paused a moment
t
to gaze at the melancholy and imposing air of the
dreaded palace, before they vanished in the throng
which trified in the immediate proximity of that se-
cret 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 interview, he ventured to furnish
(zens.


48
THE BRAVO.
audible evidence of his presence 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 !" commenced the gondolier. “If I mistake
not, you are the man I am sent to meet."
The stranger started, and first manifesting an in-
tention 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 honor-
able Signore, and if it be equally agreeable to you
and my master, I would choose to keep off the even-
ing 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 manner may I confide in thy honesty ?"
• I have no distrust of the virtues of an undis-
guised face, Signore, and therefore do I 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.”
“ This is well, and gives assurance of thy pru-
dence. I may not unmask, however; and as there
seemeth little probability of our coming to an un-
derstanding, 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 ne-
gotiations of this sort. Here is a ring whose signet
may help us to understand each other.”
66


THE BRAVO.
49
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 honors he claims in Venice. Am í
right in supposing 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 himself 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 regarding
the halberdier, he approached the first of three or
four orifices which opened into the wall of the pal-
ace, and which, from the heads of the animal being
carved in relief around them, had become famous
as the receptacles of secret accusations, under the
name of the Lion's Mouths. Something 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.
Vol. I
E


50
THE BRAVO.
Gino had 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. Frighten-
ed 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 distrust, 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 whis-
pered at the elbow of another, who had come un-
der 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.
* 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
rifle."
“ Then name it not, lest he hear thee.”
swer proved, like all the others, unsatisfactory and
bootless.
Gino now ceased to question any; but he thread-
The an


THE BRAVO.
51
ed the throng with an active and eager eye. Fifty
times was he tempted to speak, but as often did some
difference in stature or dress, some laugh, or trifle
uttered in levity, warn him of his mistake. He
penetrated to the very head of the piazza, and, re-
turning by the opposite side, he found his 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 piazzetta,
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 dili-
gence, for many here may be willing to wear the
jewel!”
Corpo di Bacco !” exclaimed the disappointed
gondolier; "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 sena-
tor, 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
harlequin was playing his antics in the place where
he had expected 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 had saluted him was no longer visible. In
this manner did the disappointed gondolier thread
his way toward the water, now answering to the
boisterous salute of some clown, and now repelling


THE BRAVO.
53
the honor 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 but 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 opportu-
nities of looking into the motives of men. There is
little in my face to pay you for the trouble of cast-
ing 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.”
6 There are few so bold as to dispute thy plea-
sure, Signore,”
* It is, to be alone."
"Cospetto! 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, Signore, 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."
“ If thy master is of no more note than thyself,
the packet may be returned.”
E


THE BRAVO.
55
If thou art so expert in the skill of a penman, tell
me the name the packet bears."
" 'Twould little become me to breathe a syllable
concerning any of my master's secrets,” returned
the gondolier, drawing himself up in sudden reserve.
" It is enough that he bid me deliver the letter; af-.
ter which I should think it presumption even to
whisper more."
The dark
eye
of the Bravo was seen rolling over
the person of his companion, by the light of the
moon, in a manner 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.”
66 Just San Marco! who can tell what ear is open,
or what ear is shut in Venice? If you please, Sig-
nor Frontoni, 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 affair
hand.”
“ Reflect a single moment on the consequences,
Signor Jacopo, before you come to a determination
so hasty.”
“I know no consequences which can befall 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 recall some one of his
master's acquaintances to whom he would be likely
for my


56
THE BRAVO.
to address an epistle on such an occasion, he fol-
lowed.
“ I wonder, Signor Jacopo, that a man of your
sagacity has not remembered that a packet to be
delivered to himself, should bear his own name.
The Bravo took the paper, and held the super-
scription 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 said
was merely about writing. Learning, as you well
understand, Master Jacopo, is divided into reading,
writing, and figures; and a man may well under-
stand 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 would'st have done better to have said
this at once; go, 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 swiftly in a direction to uncover
this seeming spy, he saw at once that Annina had
been å witness of his interview with the Bravo.


THE BRAVO.
57
CHAPTER IV.
"Twill make me think
The world is full of rubs, and that my fortune
Runs 'gainst the bias.
Richard the Second.
THOUGH Venice at that hour was so gay in her
squares,
the rest of the town was silent as the grave.
A city in which the hoof of horse or the rolling of
wheels is never heard, necessarily possesses a char-
acter of its own; but the peculiar form of the gov-
ernment, and the long training of the people in habits
of caution, weighed on the spirits of the gay. There
were times and places, it is true, when the buoyancy
of youthful blood, and the levity of the thoughtless,
found occasion for their display; nor were they
rare;
but when men found themselves removed
from the temptation, and perhaps from the support
of society, they appeared to imbibe the character
of their sombre city.
Such was the state of most of the town, while
the scene described in the previous chapter was ex-
hibited in the lively piazza of San Marco. The
moon had risen so high that its light fell between the
range of walls, here and there touching the surface
of the water, to which it imparted a quivering
brightness, while the domes and towers rested be-
neath its light in a solemn but grand repose. Occa-
sionally the front of a palace received the rays on
its heavy cornices and labored columns, the gloomy
stillness of the interior of the edifice furnishing, in
every such instance, a striking contrast to the rich-
ness and architectural beauty without. Our narra-
tive now leads us to one of these patrician abodes
of the first class.
A heavy magnificence pervaded the style of the


58
THE BRAVO.
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 Ita-
ly 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 rea-
dily have known the pencils of Titian, Paul Vero-
nese, 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 Bel-
lino, and Montegna, and Palma Vecchio-artists
who were secondary only to the more renowned
colorists of the Venetian school. Vast sheets of
mirrors lined the walls, wherever the still more pre-
cious paintings had no place; while the ordinary
hangings of velvet and silk became objects of sec-
ondary admiration, in a scene of nearly royal mag-
nificence. 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 curiously 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 penetrate, 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. Pass-
ing, without notice, ranges of reception and sleep-
ing rooms—the latter of a magnificence to mock
the ordinary wants of the body-we shall at once


THE BRAVO.
59
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 water-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 mentioned in its
general character, discovered greater attention in
its details to the wants of ordinary life. The hang-
ings 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 colors, 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 slecp,
and the pictures were delicate copies by the pencil
of some youthful amateur, whose leisure had beener
exercised 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, dis-
coursing 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 north-
ern 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, eloquent 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 and the good to


60
THE BRAVO.
99
a
think so much alike, on a matter of so little per-
sonal interest.”
A slight but furtive smile struggled around the
mortified mouth of the Carmelite, as he listened to
the naïve observation of his ingenuous pupil.
“ Thou wilt learn, my child,” he answered, “ as
time heaps wisdom on thy head, that it is in con-
cerns which touch our passions and interests least,
we are most apt to decide with discretion and im-
partiality. 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
in-
experience has been left untaught," quickly answer-
ed 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?”
ca
1
18
01


THE BRAVO.
61
« The relentless years will not stay their advance,
that even one innocent as thou, may never know
the unhappiness and trials of a more mature age.
This life is one of imperious, and, oftentimes, of
tyrannical duties. Thou art not ignorant of the
policy that rules a state, which hath 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
interest 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 mar-
riage, to any of note, in a foreign state, without
counsel and consent from those who are appointed
to watch over the interests of all."
“ Had Providence cast my lot in an 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, im-
piety 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 youth-
ful, wealthy beyond the indulgence of ali healthful
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 all of thy sex and station
are, of necessity, subject!”
“For the offence against Providence I am alrea-
dy a penitent,” returned the Donna Violetta. “But
surely it would be less embarrassing to a girl of
sixteen, were the fathers of the state so much occu-
VOL. I.
F


THE BRAVO.
63
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
complain of these hard decrees, than thou mayest
have, in any reason.”
“ '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,"
returned Violetta, quickly. “What is the affair that,
so fortunately for me, hath brought the Lord of
Sant' Agata to Venice, if a grateful girl may, with-
out indiscretion, inquire ?"
“ Thy interest in his behalf is both natural and
commendable," answered the Carmelite, with a sim-
plicity 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. Remem-
ber him, daughter, in thy prayers, that part of the
debt of gratitude may be repaid. His worldly in-
terest here is one of general notoriety, and I can
ascribe thy ignorance of it only to a retired man-
ner 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 neces-
sities only. He wanteth, of a truth, little in tempo-
ralities that the world can offer, though the desires
of life often lead him who hath most in quest of
It would seem that an ancestor of Don
Camillo was anciently a senator of Venice, when
the death of a relation brought many Calabrian
more.


64
THE BRAVO.
signories into his possession. The younger of his
sons, by an especial decree, which favored a family
that had well served the state, took these estates,
while the elder transmitted 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 restored
to those rights which his predecessor renounced.”
“Can they refuse him?"
“His demand involves a departure from estab-
lished 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 be dormant. I know little,
daughter, of the interests of life; but there are ene-
inies of the republic who say that its servitude is not
easy,
and that it seldom bestows favors of this sort,
without seeking an ample equivalent."
“ Is this as it should be? If Don Camillo Mon-
forte has claims in Venice, whether it be to palaces
on the canals, or to lands on the main; to honors
in the state, or voice in the senate; justice should
be rendered without delay, lest it be said the re-
public 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
subtleties to satisfy its own longings, but it can


THE BRAVO.
never feed itself on a delusion more fatal than this!
The crime which involves others in its guilt, or con-
sequences, is doubly a 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 re-
move it beyond temptation, and he is safest from
the allurements of the world, who is farthest re-
moved from its vices. Though I would wish justice
done to the noble Neapolitan, it may be for his ever-
-lasting 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 station 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 Vio-
“One of my name and alliances might do
We can move the patricians of my family,
in behalf of the stranger, that his prctracted 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 ingenu-
letta.
more.
F 2


66
THE BRAVO.
ous confidence, and habitual reverence, she besought
his blessing. When the solemn and customary office
was performed, the monk turned towards the com-
panion of his spiritual charge. Donna Florinda
permitted the silk, on which her needle had been
busy, to fall into her lap, and she sat in meek silence,
while the Carmelite raised his open palms towards
her bended head. His lips moved, but the words
of benediction were inaudible. Had the ardent
being, intrusted to their joint care, been less occu-
pied 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 that deep, but smothered sympathy,
which so often betrayed itself, in the silent intelli-
gence of her ghostly father and her female Mentor.
“ Thou wilt not forget us, Father ?" said Violetta,
with winning earnestness. “ An orphan girl, in
whose fate the sages of the republic so seriously
busy then selves, 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 Florin-
da 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 honor to her confessor, by seeing him
to his gondola. She then moved to the open bal-
cony. A long pause succeeded: it was such a si-
lence, breathing, thoughtful, 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 com-


THE BRAVO.
67
panion, whuse 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
Mentoni palace; doubtless, they compliment our
friend, Olivia."
“ Even that gallantry is common.
Thou know-
est that Olivia is shortly to be united to her kins-
man, and he takes the usual means to show his ad-
miration."
“ Dost thou not find this public announcement of
a passion painful ? Were I to be wooed, I could wish
it might only be to my own ear ?"
“ That is an unhappy sentiment for one whose
hand is in the gift of the senate ! I fear that a maid-
en of thy rank must be content to hear her beauty
extolled and her merits sung, if not exaggerated,
even by hirelings beneath a balcony."
“ I would that they were done !" exclaimed Vio-
letta, stopping her ears. “ None know the excel-
lence of our friend better than I; but this open ex-
posure 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 ?"
66 Whither would'st thou?"
“ I know not-but the evening is brilliant, and I
pine to mingle with the splendor and pleasure with
• While thousands on the canals pine to mingle
with the splendor and pleasure within Thus is it
out."


68
THE BRAVO.
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.
“ we 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 gon-
doliers were summoned, and the ladies, cloaking and
taking their masks, were quickly in the boat.
CHAPTER V.
If your master
Would have a queen 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 Men-
tor to the water-gate of the noble, who had been
intrusted, by the senate, with the especial guardian-
ship of the person of the heiress. It was a resi-
dence 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 or.
der, and all its external decorations showed it to be


THE BRAVO.
69
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 as-
cended its massive stairs, without pausing to con-
sider any of those novelties of construction that
would attract the eye of one unaccustomed to such
a dwelling. The rank and the known consequence
of the Donna Violetta assured her of a ready re-
ception; and 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-cham-
ber, however, the ward stopped, declining to pro-
ceed any further, in deference to the convenience
and privacy of her guardian. The delay was
short; for no sooner was the old senator apprized
of her presence, than he hastened from his closet
to do her honor, 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 un-
equivocal satisfaction as he pressed forward to re-
ceive his beautiful ward. To her half-uttered apolo-
gies for the intrusion, he would not listen; but as he
led her within, he gallantly professed his pleasure at
being honored 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 themselves, at the latest period
of the night, to receive such a guest. Besides,


70
THE BRAVO.
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
minutes, 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,” re-
turned Violetta ; "I only fear to urge my little re-
quests 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 preclude me now from serving the
republic as I could wish.—Praise be to St. Mark,
our patron! its affairs are not unprosperous for our
declining fortunes. We have dealt bravely with the
infidel of late; the treaty with the Emperor 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 af-
fair 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 favor and
a wise moderation."
“ Your declarations encourage me to become,
once more, a suitor; for I will confess that, in addi-
tion to the desire of doing you honor, 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 Florin-
da, has inherited, with the fortunes of her family,


TIIE BRAVO
71
its ancient habits of patronage and protection! But
we will not discourage the feeling, for it has a
worthy origin, and, used with discretion, it fortifies
the noble and powerful in their stations.”
“ And may we not say," mildly observed Donna
Florinda," that when the affluent and 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 ?"
6 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 I greatly approve, and which I
desire my ward may thoroughly understand.”
“She is happy in possessing instructors so able
and so willing to teach all she should know," rejoin-
ed 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 tempera-
ments 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
enlisted for the wars?"
6 Should it be so, I trust the recruit will have the
manhood not to quit his colors.”
“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 honor.
I have naught to ask in their behalf.”
“She who hath reared thee, to this goodly and
healthful beauty, would prefer a well-supported suit,


72
THE BRAVO.
1
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 favor, have been indiscreet
of speech !” exclaimed the Signor Gradenigo, cast-
ing a hasty and suspicious look at his ward.
" If any have been so thoughtless, let them abide
the punishment of their fault.”
"I commend thy justice. In this age of novel
opinions, innovations of all descriptions cannot be
too severely checked. Were the senate to shut its
ears to all the wild theories that are uttered by the
unthinking and vain, their language would soon pen-
etrate 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 ob-
ject.”
Now that nothing stood between her wish to
speak, and her own manner of making known the
request, Donna Violetta appeared to shrink from
expressing it. Her color 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 expres-
sion of sympathy as woman rarely refuses to her
sex, in any trial that involves their peculiar and dis-
tinctive feelings. Violetta struggled with her diffi-
1
2
66


THE BRAVO.
73
dence, 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 dis-
credit, in my own person.
“ This is so true, that it scarce needed so clear
an exposure;" drily returned the senator.
“And that, though thus gifted by the accidents of
fortune and birth, I have received a boon that re-
mains still unrequited, in a manner to do no honor
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 re-
plied the companion, “ I think she speaks of the boon
of life.”
The Signor Gradenigo's countenance assumed a
dark expression.
“I understand you,” he said, coldly. “It is true
that the Neapolitan was ready to rescue thee, when
the calamity befell 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!"
VOL. I.
G


74
THE BRAVO.
“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
missal, 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 heiress, “ 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 com-
mands of holy church have not been negleeted, that
I now come to entreat favor in behalf of one, to
whom I owe my life. Don Camillo Monforte has
long pursued, without success, a claim so just, that
were there no other motive to concede it, the char-
acter of Venice should teach the senators the dan-
ger of delay."
“ My ward has spent her leisure with the doctors
of Padua! The republic hath 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 Vio-
letta, we should remember how difficult it is to win-
now the truth from the chaff of imposition and legal
subtlety, and, most of all, should a judge be certain,
before he gives his decree, that, in confirming the
claims 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 republic. 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
66


THE BRAVO.
75
Venice, though she might lose a trifle from her stores,
would better deserve the character of which she is
so jealous.”
“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 would'st have.”
Donna Violetta received the promise, with a bright
and guileless smile. She kissed the hand he extend-
ed, as a pledge of his faith, with a fervor 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 Flo-
rinda, believe all to be as their own wishes and sim-
plicity 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 favor, 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 Vio-
letta, as I would have him? The boy wants little
urging, I know, to lead him to do honor 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,
> >


76
THE BRAVO.
coldly. “Signore, the son of my guardian could
hardly be other than an honored 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 Flo .
rinda, 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 usual compliments, and a
short dialogue of courtesy, she and her companion
withdrew to their boat.
The Signor 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 were 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 un-
worthy intrigue with the daughter of a jeweller, or
some more injurious bargain of thy hopes, with the
father, hath occupied the time that might have been
devoted more honorably, and to far better profit.”
“ You do me little justice," returned the youth.
“ Neither Jew, nor Jewess, hath this day greeted my
“ The calendar should mark the time, for its sin-
eye.”


THE BRAVO.
77
gularity! I would know, Giacomo, if thou turnest
to a right advantage the occasion of my guardian-
ship, and if thou thinkest, with sufficient gravity, of
the importance of what I urge?”
“ Doubt it not, father. He who hath so much suf-
fered for the want of that which the Donna Violetta
possesses in so great profusion, needeth little prompt.
ing on such a subject. By refusing to supply my
wants, you have made certain of my consent. There
is not a fool in Venice who sighs more loudly be-
neath his mistress's window, than I utter my pathetic
wishes to the lady—when there is opportunity, and
I am in the humor.”
“ Thou knowest the danger of alarming the
senate?”
“ Fear me not. My progress is by secret and
gradual 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 duplicity!"
- Thou speakest, ungrateful boy, as if I denied thy
youth the usual indulgences of thy years and rank.
It is thy excesses, and not thy spirits, I would check.
But I would not, now, harden thee with reproof.
Giacomo, thou hast a 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 ingenuity."
" 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 dan-
ger which besets their heiress ?"
6 I have.”
66 And the means ?"
“The plainest and the most certain--the Lion's
mouth.”
G2


80
THE BRAVO.
0
sa
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 distress of those I honor. 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
senator, covertly removing the moisture from his
eyes; "an honest and a proud man, for thy con-
dition !”
She, from whom we both drew our first nour-
ishment, Signore, often told me that, next to my
own kin, it was my 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 hum-
ble 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
remember 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 !"
he
G
ec
SU


THE BRAVO.
81
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 Signor Gradenigo quivered, and
he moved to and fro with a quicker step.
“I think, Antonio," he said, " I think, honest An-
tonio, I had masses said for the souls of them all ?”
“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 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 check-
ed, 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 con-
demned 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 en
deavoring to trace the effect of his words. But au
there was cold, unanswering, and void of human
sympathy. The soulless, practised, and specious


82
THE BRAVO.
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 re-
public. He saw the hazard 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 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 dis-
tinction 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 condi-
tion, 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 reproof.
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
fr


THE BRAVO.
83
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 not strangers to me-If thou would'st 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 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, had 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,
smoothing his features to the customary cautious
and distrustful expression.
The servant withdrew, when one masked, and
wearing a cloak, quickly entered the room. When
the latter instrument of disguise was thrown upon
an arm, and the visor was removed, the form and
face of the dreaded Jacopo became visible.
/


84
THE BRAVO.
CHAPTER VI
Cæsar himself has work, and our oppression
Exceeds what we expected.
SHAKSPEARE.
LIE
22
“ Didst thou note him that left me ?” eagerly de.
manded the Signor Gradenigo.
“I did.”
“Enough so to recognize form and countenance?"
“ 'Twas a fisherman of the Lagunes, named
Antonio."
The senator dropped the extended limb, and re-
garded the Bravo, with a look, in which surprise
and admiration were equally blended. He resumed
his course up and down the room, while his com-
panion 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
patrician, breaking the pause—“ Hast thou had deal.
ings with the man?”
“Never."
“ Thou art certain it is—"
“ Your eccellenza's foster-brother."
“ I did not inquire into thy knowledge of his in-
fancy and origin, but of his present state;" returned
the Signor Gradenigo, 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 fish-
ermen.”
“Duty may lead us into still humbler society,
young man. They who are charged with the
grievous burthen of the state, must not consider the
quality of the load they carry. In what manner
hath this Antonio come to thy knowledge ?"
2
0
NE


THE BRAVO.
85
99
“I have known him as one esteemed by his fel-
lows--a man skilful in his craft, and long practised
in the mystery of the Lagunes.
“ He is a defrauder of the revenue, thou would'st
be understood to say ?”
“ I would not. He toils too late and early to have
other means of support than labor."
“Thou knowest, Jacopo, the severity of our laws
in matters that concern the public moneys ?”
“I know that the judgment of St. Mark, Signore,
is never light when its 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
66
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 listen--as it is, I fear he speaks in
a sense to endanger his own interests.”
Surely; if he speaks 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 who have drawn nourishment
from the same breast with ourselves."
"Signore, it is.”
" And feeling this weakness, in his favor, I would
VOL. I.
H


86
THE BRAVO.
66
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 honorably, and perhaps gainfully, in
behalf of the republic !”
Signore, perhaps !"
“ Thou art brief in thy speech to-night, Jacopo!
-But if thou knowest the fisherman, give him coun-
sel of discretion. St. Mark will not tolerate such
free opinions of his wisdom. This is the third occa-
sion in which there has been need to repress that
fisherman's speech; for the paternal care of the
senate cannot see discontent planted in the bosom
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 republics, the world
can now see how sternly justice is consulted on our
isles. I hear the Genoese will have ample 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
Piazzetta, Signore !"
a


THE BRAVO.
87
" 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 pre-
ferred to the senate's 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, contrasted
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 opportunity 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 nig-
gardly of praise and lavish of censure. This decree
of the tribunal must not be suffered 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
jealousy of comment."
“ True, Signore."
“ I look to thee and thy fellows to see that the
affair be not too quickly forgotten. The contempla-
tion of acts, such as this, will quicken the dormant
seeds of virtue in the public mind. He who has ex-
amples of equity incessantly before his eyes, will


88
THE BRAVO.
come at last to love the quality. The Genoese, I
trust, will depart satisfied ?"
“Doubt it not, Signore; he has all that can con-
tent a sufferer; his own with usury, and revenge
of
him who did the wrong."
“ Such is the decree-ample restoration and the
chastening hand of punishment. Few states would
thus render a judgment against itself, Jacopo !"
“ Is the state answerable for the deed of the mer-
chant, 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 rumor among the Jews, of a de-
crease 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 anx-
ious, 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; 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
1


THE BRAVO.
89
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 unwary bargains with the
gainful race, and should'st 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 favors.”
“Gesu Maria! my son and heir! Dost thou not
deceive me, man, to gratify thine own displeasure
against the Hebrews ?"
“I have no other malice against the race, Sig.
nore, than the wholesome disrelish 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 confiscated 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 applications of late, in
thy character of avenger of private wrongs ?"
H 2


90
THE BRAVO.
“ None of note-there is one that seeks me earn.
estly, 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 ex-
pression 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
favors 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 un-
believers ! 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 un-
favorable 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 pun-
ishment, and such is the true object of all govern-
ment. Thou wilt not withhold the name of thy cor-
respondent ?”
“ It is a noble Neapolitan, who hath long sojourn-
ed in Venice, on matters touching a great succes-
sion, and some right, even, to the senate's dignity.”


THE BRAVO.
91
“ Ha! Don Camillo Monforte! Am I right, sir-
rah?"
“Signore, the same !"
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 senator started, consulted a time-
piece in his own apartment, and again addressed his
companion.
“ This is well,” he said ; "thy faith and punctuali-
ty shall be remembered. Look to the fisherman,
Åntonio; 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 rumors on the Rialto. The glory
and credit of a patrician name must not be weaken-
ed by the errors of boyhood. As to this stranger-
quickly, 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 readi-
ness of one long practised in its use, but with a
composure that was not so easily disconcerted as
that of the more sensitive senator. 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 Gra-
denigo was again alone, he once more consulted the
time-piece, passed his hand slowly and thoughtfully
across his brow, and resumed his walk. For near-
ly an hour this exercise, or nervous sympathy of
the body with a mind that was possibly overwork-
ed, continued without any interruption from with-
out. 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


92
THE BRAVO.
glance at the figure of his guest seemed to apprize
the senator of his character, for the reception, while
it was distinguished by the quaint courtesy of the
age, was that of one expected.
“ I am honored in the visit of Don Camillo Mon-
forte,” said the host, while the individual named laid
aside his cloak and silken visor; "though the late-
ness 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 cool.
ness of the canals, and the gaiety of the square, to-
gether with some apprehension of intruding prema-
turely 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 Grade-
nigo 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 men-
ace, think chiefly of repairing the omissions of youth.
In this manner, Signor Duca, does man sin and re-
pent daily, until the opportunities of doing either are
imperceptibly 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 reasonable man, and I have, in particular, laid
before him the advantage of conciliating the sen-
ate's esteem.
“Therein have you done wisely, Signore, both as
respects 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 ?”
6 I wish it were possible to say it did. I urge the


THE BRAVO.
93
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."
“ 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 favor. It will
be well to make your attachment to the state be ob-
served, by further service near the ambassador.
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 im-
pressed 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


94
THE BRAVO.
new-made prince would have his ducal coronet sit
easily on his brow, he would do well to secure the
esteem of his nearest neighbors.”
“ This is obviously true, and little that my influ-
ence can do toward effecting the object, shall be
wanting. And now, may I entreat of your friend-
ship, 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.”
“ 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 solicitation.”
“None can be more assiduous in the duty, nor is
it common to see a suppliant so mindful of those
whom he troubleth, by more substantial proofs of
respect.”
“But chiefly should you be particular to earn the
senate'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
reverend fathers ! I think the justice of my claim
would speedily 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 communica-
tion with vulgar interests. They rule like the un-
seen influence of mind over matter, and form, as it
were, the soul of the state, whose seat, like that of
reason, remains a problem exceeding human pene-
tration.”
“ I 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


96
THE BRAVO.
fatherly a care! Can there be good or evil to the
citizen of the republic, noble Signore, without the
bowels of the senate moving, as the parent yearn.
eth over its young? Happy is the country in which
men of reverend years and whitened heads watch,
until night draws toward the day, and weariness
is forgotten in the desire to do good, and to honor
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 ear hath happened, save a matter of some
trifling import, which hath grown out of the move-
ments of the evening."
“Have there been stilettoes busy on the bridge?-
ha !or do the people joy less than common in their
levities?"
“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 dispensation
in behalf of the people of these islands! I had not
hoped for the honor of an interview to-night, Sig.
nore, 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 decipher the arms
and other symbols of its owner. 'Tis a ring, with
the usual marks, which accompany private con-
fidences.”
* Thou hast the signet?” said the noble, stretching
out an arm.
“ It is here, and a goodly stone it is; a turquoise
of price."


THE BRAVO.
97
“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 virtue 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 naught but a crest with the equestrian
helmet-comes it of any in Venice?"
“ The upright Solomon guide the judgment of his
servant in a matter of this delicacy! The jewel is
of rare beauty, such as few possess but those who
have gold in store for other purposes. Do but re-
gard the soft lustre in this light, noble Signore, and
remark the pleasing colors 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 sequins of full weight and heavy amount
given for baubles less precious.”
“ Wilt thou never forget thy stall and the way-
farers of the Rialto? I bid thee name him who
beareth these symbols 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 fifteen
years
since.”
“ And his jewels ?"
They have passed, with other movables 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 an-
cient name—Don Camillo of St. Agata. The
wealthy Neapolitan who now urges his rights here
VOL. I.
I


98
THE BRAVO.
in Venice, is the present owner of this precious
stone."
“Give me the ring; this must be looked to-hast
thou more to 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 prosperous 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 re-
paid at a later day by self-denial, and such embar-
rassments as suit not the heirs of noble names.
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, be-
sides this of the Neapolitan?"
“ Unless in the vulgar way
of our daily occupa-
tion, 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 ad,
hered; “ canst thou form any conjecture, by the im-
pression, concerning him who used that seal ?"
The jeweller took the paper and held it towards
the light, while his glittering eyes intently examined
the conceit.
“ This would surpass the wisdom of the son of
David !” he said, after a long and seemingly a fruit-
less examination; "here is naught but some fanciful
device of gallantry, such as the light-hearted cava-
liers of the city are fond of using, when they tempt
the weaker sex with fair words and seductive van-
ities.”


100
THE BRAVO.
losing his reward, by a too hasty cornmunication
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 gravity, 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 particulars, 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"
“ 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 disappeared by the passage
through which he had entered.
It seemed, by the manner of the Signor Gra-


THE BRAVO.
101
denigo, that the receptions for that evening had now
ended. He carefully examined the locks of several
secret drawers in his cabinet, extinguished the lights,
closed and secured the doors, and quitted 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
character of the individual who was the chief actor
in the foregoing scenes. The Signor Gradenigo
was born with all the sympathies and natural kind-
liness of other men, but accident, and an education
which had received a strong bias from the institu-
tions of the self-styled republic, had made him the
creature of a conventional policy. To him Venice
seemed a free state, because he partook so largely
of the benefits of her social system; and, though
shrewd and practised in most of the affairs of the
world, his faculties, on the subject of the political
ethics of his country, were possessed of a rare and
accommodating dullness. A senator, he stood in
relation to the state as a director of a moneyed insti-
tution is proverbially placed in respect to his corpo-
ration; an agent of its collective measures, removed
from the responsibilities of the man. He could
reason warmly, if not acutely, concerning the prin-
ciples 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
subordinate, but the absorbing interest of civilized
life. He would talk ably of character, and honor,
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 gravi-
tation of matter to the earth's centre. As a Venetian,
he was equally opposed to the domination of one, or
I 2


102
THE BRAVO.
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 indus-
triously or more successfully persuaded himself into
the belief of all the dogmas that were favorable 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 calculation had substituted taste for principles;
nor was he backward, 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 estab-
lished orders throughout his own creation, in a de-
scending chain from angels to men, it was safe to
follow an example which emanated from a wisdom
that was infinite. Nothing could be more sound
than the basis of his theory, though its application
had the capital error of believing there was any
imitation of nature in an endeavor to supplant it.
CHAPTER VII.
The moon went down; and nothing now was seen
Save where the lamp of a Madonna shone
Faintly.
ROGERS.
Just as the secret audiences of the Palazzo Gra-
denigo were ended, the great square of St. Mark
began to lose a portion of its gaiety. The cafés
were no v occupied by parties who had the means,
and were in the humor, to put their indulgences to


THE BRAVO.
103
more substantial proof than the passing gibe or idle
laugh; while those who were reluctantly compelled
to turn their thoughts from the levities of the mo-
ment to the cares of the morrow, were departing
in crowds to humble roofs and hard pillows. There
remained one of the latter class, however, who con-
tinued to occupy a spot near the junction of the
two squares, as motionless as if his naked feet
grew
to the stone on which he stood. It was Antonio.
The position of the fisherman brought the whole
of his muscular form and bronzed features beneath
the
rays of the moon. 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 never known in this.
There was suffering in the expression of the wea-
ther-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 familiar and vulgar aspects, he would have
presented a touching picture of a noble nature, en-
during with pride, blunted by habit; while to him,
who regards the accidental dispositions of society
as paramount laws, he might have presented the
image of dogged turbulence and discontent, health-
fully 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
lifted his cap from the pavement, and prepared to
“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 telling the fifth hour of
The fisherman bent his head aside, and regarded
move.
the night.”


THE BRAVO.
105
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 mode-
ration. 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 should'st temper thy regrets with wisdom.
The 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 complaints."
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, Jacopo; and he thinks not of suffering he
does not feel.”
“ Art thou not wrong, old man, to accuse him
who hath been born in affluence, of hardness of
heart, merely that he doth not feel the misery thou
would'st avoid, too, were it in thy power? Thou
hast thy gondola and nets, with health and the cun-
ning of thy art, and in that art thou happier than he
who hath neither-would'st 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


106
THE BRAVO.
",
labor 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 patrician 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 honor 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 the seas."
“ Thou should'st have said, also, and thy old
breast is scarred. Before thy birth, Jacopo, I went
against the infidel, and my blood was shed, like
water, for the state. 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 per-
ceiving that several groups were conversing near,
in the square, he signed to his companion to follow
him, and walked towards the quays.
• Thy father,” he said, as they moved slowly on
together, “was my comrade and my friend. I am
old, Jacopo, and poor; my days are past in toil, on
the Lagunes, and my nights in gaining strength to
meet the labor 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


THE BRAVO.
107
EX
blood was never yet blessed to him that gave, or
him that received."
The Bravo listened in silence, though his com-
panion, 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
grievous sin, Jacopo; but it is never too late to call
on the saints for aid, and to lay aside the stiletto !
It is not profitable 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 labor 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! 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 contempt
, even for being thy companion.”
“What is it men say, that thou treatest me thus ?"
demanded Jacopo, in a low, struggling voice.
“I would they said untruth! But few die by vio-
lence, 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. Some
say 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
11
1.
ch
6
$
21 .


THE BRAVO.
109
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 classical spars, which
crowded the view between the Piazzetta and the
Guidecca. The Bravo hesitated, cast another wary
glance around him, settled his mask, undid the slight
fastenings 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.
“Roderigo ?"
66 The same.'
“ Thou art late," said the mariner of Calabria, as
Jacopo stepped upon the low deck of the Bella Sor-
rentina. “My people have long been below, and I
have dreamt thrice of shipwreck, and twice of a
heavy sirocco, since thou hast been expected."
6 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 bar-
gains. 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 ?"
VOL. I.
K


THE BRAVO.
111
cano.
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 Venice; what is secretly done may be favored
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 mis-
deeds. Now, here is the miscreant Jacopo.-What
aileth thee, man? The anchor, on which thou lean-
est, 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 vol-
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!”
6 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 marked among us of the port, and we
never see the man but we begin to think of our sins,
and of penances forgotten. 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 pro-
nounce on his fate without proof ?”
Go, ask that question in the streets ! Not a Chris-
tian 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 ca-
nals 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


112
THE BRAVO.
is some wrong done this Jacopo, who is, haply, a
man slandered.”
“I have heard of slandering a priest, for they are
Christians, bound to keep good names for the
church's honor, but to utter an injury against a
bravo, would a little exceed the tongue of an av-
vocato. What mattereth it whether the hand be a
shade deeper in color or not, when blood is on it.”
“ Thou sayest truly," answered the pretended
Roderigo, drawing a heavy breath. It mattereth
little, indeed, to him condemned, whether the sen-
tence cometh of one, or of many crimes."
“Dost know, friend Roderigo, that this very ar-
gument 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 busi-
ness, worthy Stefano, I say to myself, and there-
fore the less reason that thou should'st be particular
in the quality of the merchandise. That Jacopo
hath an eye and a scowl that would betray him,
were he chosen to the chair of St. Peter! But doff
thy mask, Signor 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 that send me forbid the liberty,
else would I gladly stand face to face with thee,
Master Stefano."
“ Well, notwithstanding thy caution, cunning Sig.
nore, 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 latine yards of my felucca."
“ The less need to uncover. There are certain
signs, no doubt, by which men who meet so often
should be known to each other."
“ Thou hast a goodly countenance, Signore, and
66


THE BRAVO.
113
ly than
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 better be seen open-
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 know-
ledge.”
“Thou would'st not be more safe with thy con-
fessor." 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 masquers on the quay
Is it not so, Roderigo ?"
“ There is more cleverness in thee, Master Stefa-
no, than I had thought; though thy readiness with
the felucca is no secret.”
“There are two things, Signor Roderigo, on
which I value myself, but always, I hope, with Chris-
tian moderation. As a mariner of the coast, in
mistral or sirocco, levanter or zephyr, few can
claim more practice; and for knowing an acquaint-
ance in a carnival, I believe the father of evil him-
self could not be sº disguised that eye of mine
should not see his foot! For anticipating a gale, or
looking behind a mask, Signor Roderigo, I know not
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 Camil-
lo Monforte, and an ancient fellow of mine, aboard
the-felucca, attended by a woman in mask. He
threw off the girl dexterously 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
K2


114
THE BRAVO.
66
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 gon-
dolier scarce left time for greeting; but Anni-
na-
“ Annina !”
166 The same.
Thou knowest Annina, old Tom-
maso's daughter; for she danced in the very set in
which I detected 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
easy to 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 men !"
“ If faith were always equal, where would be its
merit? Thou hast never been hotly chased by an
infidel, Master Roderigo, or thou would'st know
how the mind of man can change from hope to fear,
from the big voice to the humble prayer! I remem-
ber once, in the confusion and hurry of baffling
winds and whistling shot, having always turbans
before the eye, and the bastinado in mind, to have
beseeched 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!


THE BRAVO.
115
One hath need of experience 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 honors of the
last Monforte that sat in thy councils. The debate
hath so long endured, that the lad hath made him-
self a gondolier, by sheer shoving an oar between
his master's palace and those of the nobles he moves
with interest—at least such is Gino's own history
of his education.”
“ I know the man. He wears the colors of him
he serves. Is he of quick wit ?”
“Signor Roderigo, all who come of Calabria can-
not boast that advantage. We are no more than
our neighbors, and there are exceptions in all com-
munities, as in all families. Gino is ready enough
with his oar, and as 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 would'st not have me say more
than the truth will warrant."
“Well, keep thy felucca in readiness, for we know
not the moment it may be needed.”


THE BRAVO.
117
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 ar-
senal. A thousand gondolas glided from the canals,
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
neighboring 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 rejoicing, St. Mark's
again teemed with its gay multitude. Few appear-
ed in masks, but pleasure seemed to lighten every
eye, while the frank and unconcealed countenance
willingly courted the observation and sympathy of
its neighbors. In short, Venice and her people were
seen, in all the gaiety and carelessness of a favorite
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 spec.
tacle 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 sympho-
nies of rich music. Here the improvisatore, secretly
employed by a politic and mysterious 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
republic; while, there, a ballad-singer chaunted, to


118
THE BRAVO.
the greedy crowd, the glory and justice of San
Marco. Shouts of approbation succeeded each
happy allusion to the national 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 audience.
In the mean time, gondolas rich in carvings and
gildings, and containing females renowned for grace
and beauty, began to cluster, in hundreds, around
the port. A general 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 in, 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 masquers now
began to appear in the throng, stealing a momentary
pleasure under the favor of that privileged disguise,
from out of the seclusion and monotony of their
cloisters. Next came the rich marine equipages of
the accredited agents of foreign states, and then,
amid the sound of clarions and the cries of the pop-
ulace, 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 employ.
ed 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 etain the narrative, to describe the
pomp in which a luxurious and affluent aristocracy,
that in general held itself aloof from familiar inter-


120
THE BRAVO.
66
bute of justice-but the youth hath offended the
laws, and he suffereth for his crimes?"
“He is guilty, Excellent and most Serene High-
ness, of youth, and health, and strength, with some
skill in the craft of the mariner. They have taken
him, without warning or consent, for the service of
the galleys, and have left me in my age, alone.”
The expression of pity, which had taken posses-
sion 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 ok 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
pressure of those around him, he sunk back meekly,
among the crowd, disappointment and sorrow giv-
ing place, for an instant, to an awe and an admira-
tion of the gorgeous spectacle, that were perhaps in
some degree inseparable from his condition and
habits. In a few moments, the slight interruption
produced by this short scene, was forgotten 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 trum-
pets and clarions, and for fresh acclamations 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


THE BRAVO.
121
manner did the gay and shouting cortège sweep on,
some darting ahead of the principal bark, and some
clinging, like smaller fish swimming around the levi-
athan, as near to her sides, as the fall of the pon-
derous 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 principle of
expansion; nor was the chain of its apparent con-
nexion entirely broken, until the Bucentaur had
passed the island, long famous for its convent of re-
ligious Armenians. 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 public events, and we shall pass
over all that has no immediate connexion with the
interest of the tale.
When the Bucentaur became stationary, a space
around her stern was cleared, and the doge appear-
ed in a rich gallery, so constructed as to exhibit the
action to all in sight. He held a ring, glittering
with precious stones, on high, and, pronouncing the
words of betrothal, he dropped it upon the bosom
of his fancied spouse. Shouts arose, trumpets blew
their blasts, and each lady waved her handkerchief,
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 beneath 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.
Vol. I.
L


122
THE BRAVO.
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 termination of a ceremony, to which
time and the sanction of the sovereign pontiff had
given a species of sanctity that was somewhat in-
creased 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 occa-
sion, had scarcely concealed, as they cast glances
of intelligence and pride among themselves, their
smiles. Still, such was the influence of habit, for so
much does even arrogant assumption, 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 element which this pageant was intended to
represent as the peculiar property of St. Mark, could
yet cover the lofty pretension with the ridicule it
merited. Time has since taught the world that
Venice continued this idle deception for ages 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 evi-
dence of its fading circumstances, than to be fully
conscious of the swift progress of a downward
In this manner do communities, like indi.
viduals, draw near their dissolution, inattentive to
the symptoms of decay, until they are overtaken.
course.


THE BRAVO.
123
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 pass-
age, and heralds now summoned the citizens to wit-
ness the regatta, with which the public ceremonies
of the day were to terminate.
Venice, from her peculiar formation and the vast
number of her watermen, had long been celebrated
for this species of amusement.
Families were
known and celebrated in her traditions for dexter-
ous skill with the oar, as they were known in Rome
for feats of a far less useful and of a more barbar-
ous 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 habiliments, and surrounded and sup-
ported 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 disgrace
of defeat. They were cheered by the men, and
stimulated by the smiles and tears of the other sex.
The rewards were recalled to their minds; they
were fortified by prayers to the saints; and then


124
THE BRAVO.
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 secondary port--and its width is so considerable,
it has throughout 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, afford-
ed all the facilities necessary for viewing the strug,
gle.
In passing from one end of this long course to the
other, the men destined for the race were not per-
mitted to make any exertion. Their eyes roamed
over the gorgeous hangings, which, as is still wont
throughout Italy on all days of festa, floated from
every window, and on groups of females in rich at-
tire, brilliant with the peculiar charms of the famed
Venetian beauty, that clustered in the balconies.
Those who were domestics, rose and answered to
the encouraging signals thrown from above, as they
passed the palaces of their masters; while those
who were watermen of the public, endeavored to
gather hope among the sympathizing 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 BRAVO.
125
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 colors
of several noble families of the republic, or which
had such other simple devices as had been suggest-
ed by the fancies of those to whom they belonged.
A few flourishes of the oars, resembling the prepar-
atory movements which the master of fence makes
ere he begins to push and parry, were given; a
whirling of the boats, like the prancing of curbed
racers, succeeded; and then at the report of a gun,
the whole darted away as if the gondolas were im-
pelled 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 sympathetic movement was commu-
nicated to the grave load under which the Bucen-
taur labored.
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 any one 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 lit:le 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 pas-
sage. The whole train shot beneath the bridge, so
near each other as to render it still doubtful which
was to conquer, and the exciting strife came more
in view of the principal personages of the city.
Bu here those radical qualities, which insure
success in efforts of this nature, manifested them-
selves. The weaker began to yield, the train to
L2


126
THE BRAVO
lengthen, and hopes and fears to increase, until
those in the front presented the exhilarating specta-
cle 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 Bucen-
taur, 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 predom-
inant and so often dangerous principle of our nature,
drew shouts even from the disappointed.
The clamor 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 ques-
tion as to their origin, or as to their ordinary occu-
pations. An oar of gold, to which was attached a
chain of the same precious metal, was exhibited as
the boon of the doge to him who showed most dex-
terity 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 bot-
tom. A mimic boat, of less precious metal, was
the third prize. The gondolas were to be the usual
light vehicles of the canals
, 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 nccessarily fall the whole duty of guiding,


THE BRAVO.
127
while he impelled his little bark. Any of those who
had been engaged in the previous trial were admit-
ted 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 environed the vacant place that had been left
for the competitors, 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 be-
tween the Piazzetta 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.
5 And who art thou?" demanded the official of
the next that came.
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 spirit. Enter, and take place."_" And who art
thou ?” he 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."


128
THE BRAVO.
« What noble retaineth thee?"
“ The illustrious and most excellent Don Camillo
Monforte, Duca and Lord of Sant' Agata in Napoli,
and of right a senator in Venice."
“ Thou should'st have come of Padua, friend, by
thy knowledge of the laws! Dost thou trust in him
thou servest 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
succor
“ 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.”
6. 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 deep-
ly-interested countenance. This cautious interrup-
tion of the pleasantries of the official was acknow-
ledged by a low reverence, and the matter pro-
ceeded.
“ Take thy station, Gino of Calabria, and a happy
fortune 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."
“ Thou art old, and unequal to this struggle; hus-
band thy strength for daily toil. An ill-advised am-
bition hath put thee on this useless trial.”
The new aspirant had forced a common fisher-
man's gondola, of no bad shape, and of sufficient


THE BRAVO.
129
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 boat aside, though with a sor-
rowing and mortified eye, when a sign from the
doge arrested his arm.
“Question him, as of wont," said the prince.
“ How art thou named ?" continued the reluctant
official, who, like all of subordinate condition, had
far more jealousy of the dignity of the sports he di-
rected, than his superior.
“I am known as Antonio, a fisherman of the La-
gunes."
“ Thou art old !"
“ Signore, none know it better than I. It is sixty
summers 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 honor, come in
better."
“ Thy limbs are uncovered—thy bosom bare--thy
sinews feeble-go to; thou art ill advised to inter-
rupt the pleasures of the nobles, by this levity.”
Again Antonio would have shrunk from the ten
thousand 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;
w still I would advise the poor and aged man to take
counsel ; give him silver, for want urges him to this
hopeless trial.”
66 Thou hearest; alms are offered thee; but give
place to those who are stronger, and more seemly,
for the sport."
" I will obey, as is the duty of one born and aca
customed to poverty. They said the race was open
99
1
2


THE BRAVO.
131
66
is to be a citizen of a generous, a magnanimous,
and a free state!”
A thousand bowed in approbation of the senti-
ment, and a rumor passed, from mouth to mouth,
that a young noble was about to try his strength,
in the regatta, in compliment to some wayward
beauty.
"Such is justice!" exclaimed the herald, in a loud
voice, admiration apparently overcoming respect, in
the ardor of the moment. Happy is he that is
born in Venice, and envied are the people in whose
councils, wisdom and mercy preside, like lovely and
benignant sisters! On whom dost thou rely ?"
“ Mine own arm."
“ Ha! This is impious! None so presuming may
enter into these privileged sports."
The hurried exclamation of the herald was ac-
companied by a general stir, such as denotes sudden
and strong emotion in a multitude.
“The children of the republic are protected by an
even hand,” observed the venerable prince." It
formeth our just pride, and blessed St. Mark forbid
that aught resembling vain-glory should be uttered !
but it is truly our boast that we know no difference
between our subjects of the islands, or those of the
Dalmatian coast; between Padua, or Candia ; Corfu,
or St. Giorgio. Still it is not permitted for any to
refuse the intervention of the saints.”
" Name thy patron, or quit the place," continued
the observant herald, anew.
The stranger paused, as if he looked into his
mind, and then he answered
“ San Giovanni of the Wilderness."
“ Thou namest one of blessed memory!"
“I name him 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
3


THE BRAVO.
133
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 watermen in gorgeous liveries, and in
whose equipment there was a studied display of
magnificence, came into the little circle that curiosi-
ty had drawn together. The single cavalier, who
occupied the seat, arose, for few gondolas appeared
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 favorite follower in this race,” he said
gallantly, “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 discover all you seek beneath these masks," re-
turned one of the two females, while their compan-
ion, the Carmelite, bowed graciously to the compli-
ment, 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 companion, as if to note the effect of this
gallant speech. “Venice 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
VOL. I.
M


134
THE BRAVO.
to the worship of the Creator than of the creature,"
murmured the monk.
“Some there are, holy father, who have admira-
tion for both. Such I would fain hope is the happy
lot of her who is favored 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 placé 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 made, hesitated 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 gene-
rally deemed one that admitted of more than usual
gallantry; and she evidently shrunk, with the sensi-
tiveness of one whose feelings were unpractised,
from an homage so public.
" Receive the flowers, my love," mildly whispered
her companion; “ the cavalier who offers them sim-
ply intends to show 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 re-
straint between us.”
He bowed, and signing to his gondolier, was
quickly lost.in the crowd of boats. Ere the barks,
however, were separated, 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
66


THE BRAVO.
135
!
observed Donná Florinda. “I wonder that we
should be known !”
“I should more wonder that we were not. I
could recall the roble Neapolitan cavalier amid a
million! Thou dost not remember all that I owe
to him!”
Donna Florinda did not answer; but, in secret,
she offered 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 Carmelite; but, as
neither spoke, a long and thoughtful silence succeed-
ed 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 assembled by the signal-gun, the
agitation on the great canal nearest the scene of
strife, and a clear blast of the trumpets. But in or-
der that the narrative may proceed regularly, it is
fit that we should return, a little, in the order of
time.
CHAPTER IX.
Here art thou in appointment fresh and fair,
Anticipating time with starting courage.
SHAKSPEARE.
It has been seen that the gondolas, which were
to contend in the race, had been towed towards the
place of starting, in order that the men might enter
on the struggle with undiminished vigor. 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 dut


136
THE BRAVO.
had been assigned. Still
, as he passed along the
canal, before the crowded balconies and groaning
vessels which lined its sides, there arose that scorn-
ful 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 in-
deed 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 him, and seem-
ed to search, in every eye he encountered, some
portion of the sympathy which his meek and hum-
ble 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 solu-
tion of this revolting trait of human character, we
are not to look to Venice and her institutions, 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 favorite in this strife," observed
the former, when a fresh burst of jibes were show-
ered 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 fish-
erman; "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


188
THE BRAVO.
fiable ambition reflected, in some degree, on the
honor of their whole body.
“ How now, old Antonio !” shouted the boldest
of the band—“is it not enough that thou hast won
the honors of the net, but thou would'st 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. 6 We shall see
the brave Admiral Antonio, sailing in the Bucentaur,
with the nobles of the land !”
Their sallies were succeeded by coarse laughter.
Even the fair, in the balconies, were not uninfluenced
by these constant jibes, and the apparent discrepan-
су
between the condition and the means of so unu-
sual a pretender to the honors 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 con-
ceal the feelings within ; and, as they approached
the place of starting, he again spoke.
“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 asso-
ciates for the rest of his life?”
“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 reso-
lution."
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.


THE BRAVO.
139
JU
with the innumerable angles and the constant pass-
ing, 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 explana-
tion. 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
ol na the boat is steering, and, of course, of keeping him on
bis 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 gondolier 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.
This habit of rowing erect, however, which is usu-
ally done by a forward, instead of a backward,
movement of the body, is not unfrequent in all the
ports of the Mediterranean, though in no other is
There a boat which resembles the gondola in all its
properties, or uses. The upright position of the
gondolier requires that the pivot on which the oar
rests should have a corresponding elevation; and
there is, consequently, a species of bumkin, raised
from the side of the boat, to the desired height, and
which, being formed of a crooked and very irregur
lar knee of wood, has two or three row-locks, one
above the other, to suit the stature of different indi-
ntemente


140
THE BRAVO.
Na
So
viduals, or to give a broader or a narrower sweep
of the blade as the movement shall require. As
there is frequent occasion to cast the oar from one
of these row-locks to the other, and not unfrequent-
ly to change its side, it rests in a very open bed;
and the instrument is kept in its place by great dex-
terity alone, and by a perfect knowledge of the
means of accommodating the force and the rapidi-
ty of the effort to the forward movement of the
boat and the resistance of the water. All these
difficulties united, render skill in a gondolier one of
the most delicate branches of a waterman's art, as
it is clear that muscular strength alone, though of
great aid, can avail but little in such a practice.
The great canal of Venice, following its wind-
iugs, being more than a league in length, the distance
in the present race was reduced nearly half, by
causing the boats to start from the Rialto. At this
point, then, the gondolas were all assembled, attend-
ed by those who were to place them. As the whole
of the population which, before, had been extended
along the entire course of the water, was now
crowded between the bridge and the Bucentaur, the
long and graceful avenue resembled a vista ofhu
man heads. It was an imposing sight to look along
that bright and living lane, and the hearts of each
competitor beat high, as hope, or pride, or appre-
hension, became the feeling of the moment.
6 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 main have ever yet borne
away a prize in Venice.”
He then summoned, in succession, those whose
Whe
Wil
ZON
121
Na
Be
1


THE BRAVO.
141
names have 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 some young patrician was concealed beneath
the mask, to humor the fancy of some capricious
fair.—“Chance hath given thee the extreme left."
“ Thou hast forgotten to call the fisherman," ob-
served 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
Antonio. “ There may be those in the line it doth
not become one like me to crowd; and a few strokes
of the car, more or less, can differ but little, in so
long a strife.”
"Thou hadst better push modesty to discretion,
and remain.”
“ 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 would'st
otherwise. Now, recall the rules of the games, hardy
gondoliers, and make thy last appeal to thy patrons.
There is to be no crossing, or other foul expedients :
naught except ready oars, and nimble wrists. He
who varies, needlessly, from his line until he leadeth,
shall be recalled by name; and whoever is guilty of
any act to spoil the sports, or otherwise to offend
the patricians, shall be both checked and punished.
Be ready for the signal."
The assistant, who was in a strongly manned
boat, fell back a little, while runners, similarly


142
THE BRAVO.,
It was
equipped, went ahead to order the curious from the
water. These preparations were scarcely made,
when a signal floated on the nearest dome.
repeated on the campanile, and a gun was fired at
the arsenal. A deep but suppressed murmur arose
in the throng, which was as quickly succeeded by
suspense.
Each gondolier had suffered the bows of his boat
to incline slightly toward the left shore of the canal,
as the jockey is seen, at the starting-post, to turn his
courser aside, in order to repress its ardor, or divert
its attention. But the first long and broad sweep
of the oar brought them all in a line again, and away
they glided in a body.
For the first few minutes there was no difference
in speed, nor any sign by which the instructed might
detect the probable evidence of defeat or success.
The whole ten, which formed the front line, skimmed
the water with an equal velocity, beak to beak, as if
some secret attraction held each in its place, while
the humble, though equally light bark of the fisher-
man steadily kept its position in the rear.
The boats were soon held in command. The
oars got their justest poise and widest sweep, and
the wrists of the men accustomed to their play.
The line began to waver.
It undulated, the glitter-
ing prow of one protruding beyond the others; and
then it changed its form. Enrico of Fusina shot
ahead, and, privileged by success, he insensibly
sheered more into the centre of the canal, avoiding,
by the change, the eddies, and the other obstructions
of the shore. This maneuvre which, in the lan-
guage 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 practised
Bartolomeo of the Lido, as his companions usually
called him, came next, occupying the space on his


THE BRAVO.
143
1
si
CHE
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
farther to the right, and a little in the rear of Bar-
tolomeo. Then came, in the centre of the canal,
and near as might be in the rear of the triumphant
waterman 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
favor, a rumor passed up the canal, that the young
cavalier had been little favored 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 com-
la petition with men whose daily labor had hardened
their sinews, and whose practice enabled them to
judge closely of every chance of the race. But
a 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, admira-
tion was again turned to derision.
Antonio had cast aside the cap he wore of wont,
and 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 re-
i proachfully, as if he keenly felt
the stings of so many
unlicensed tongues applied to feelings which, though


144
THE BRAVO.
blunted by his habits and condition, 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 degrading 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
tranquillity, and always without retort, until he again
approached the spot occupied by his companions of
the Lagunes. Here his eye sunk under the re-
proaches, 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 brow, as if to
clear a sight which had become dimmed and con-
fused, he continued 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 Bucentaur, though still dis-
tant, 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
gondolier'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 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 excit-


THE BRAVO.
145
Though
ed 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 derision and contempt which often defeat even
more generous exertions, Antonio had drawn nearer
to the crowd of nameless competitors.
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 favored 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 farther success. The expec-
tation was quickly realized. He passed them all,
amid a dead and wondering silence, and took his
station, as fifth in the struggle.
From this moment all interest in those who form-
ed 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 exer-
tions of the waterman of Fusina were seemingly
redoubled, though his boat went no faster. The
gondola of Bartolomeo shot past him; it was follow-
ed 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 ahead, there arose such a hum of voices as
escapes a throng, when a sudden and violent change
of feeling is produced in their wayward sentiments.
Vol. I.
N


146
THE BRAVO.
Enrico was frantic with the disgrace. He urged
every power of his frame to avert the dishonor,
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 desperate character. But as a man has little
sympathy for the unfortunate, when his feelings are
excited by competition, the defeated were quickly
forgotten. The name of Bartolomeo was borne
high upon the winds, by a thousand voices, and his
fellows of the Piazzetta nd the Lido called upon
him, aloud, to die for the honor 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 predecessor, the leader re-
doubled his efforts, with a diminished effect, and
Venice had the mortification of seeing a stranger
leading one of the most brilliant of her regattas.
Bartolomeo 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, however, 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 favorable
symptoms of his being able to maintain his advan-
tage. He was encouraged by the shouts of the
ultitude, who now forgot his Calabrian origin, in
his success, while many of the serving-
men of his


148
THE BRAVO.
and they glanced by church, palace, barge, mystick,
and felucca, without the slightest inequality in their
relative speed. The masked waterman glanced a
look behind, as if to calculate his advantage, and
then bending again to his pliant oar, he spoke, loud
enough to be heard only by him who pressed so
hard upon his 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 child-
ishness 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 pow-
erful 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 gondola 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
masquer shot past the eyes of the judges, who


THE BRAVO
149
doubted, for an instant, on whom success had fallen
Gino was not long behind, and after him came Bar-
tolomeo, fourth and last, in the best-contested race
which had ever been seen on the waters of Venice.
When the flags fell, men held their breaths in
suspense. Few knew the
Few knew the victor, so close had been
the struggle. But a flourish of the trumpets soon
commanded attention, and then a herald proclaim-
ed, that
“ Antonio, a fisherman of the Lagunes, favored
by his holy patron of the Miraculous Draught, had
borne away the prize of gold-while a waterman,
who wore his face concealed, but who hath trusted
to the care of the blessed San Giovanni of the Wil-
derness, 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
Seignories."
When this formal announcement was made, there
succeeded 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. Al
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 mani-
fested the violence of the transition from mortifica-
tion 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 adu-
lation, when it was found that the end had disap-
pointed 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 unexo
N 2


152
THE BRAVO
hand, and that this obscure fisherman, having de-
served the honors of this regatta, will receive them
with the same readiness on the part of him who be-
stows, as if he were the most favored 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
common usage that the parental character of a
government is seen, since in matters of higher mo-
ment, 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' ap-
plause. 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 lat-
ter, having waited to gather these signs of an ap-
proving loyalty, proceeded.
It is my duty, Antonio, and, being a duty, it hath
become 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 favor 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 wonderful
sinews and hardy courage !"
Highness !” observed Antonio, recoiling apace,
when he found that he was expected to stoop, in or-
der 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 gold would mock
my poverty, and a jewel, which comes from so


THE BRAVO.
153
som."
princely a hand, would be ill placed on a naked bom
This unexpected refusal caused a general surprise,
and a momentary pause.
“ Thou hast not entered on the struggle, fisher-
man, without a view to its prize? But thou sayest
truly, the golden ornament would, indeed, but ill be-
fit thy condition and daily wants. Wear it for the
moment, since it is meet that all should know the
justice and impartiality of our decisions, 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 gondoliers, and the dis-
pleasure of the great."
“Thou art deceived, honest fisherman, if thou
supposest that we regard thy just ambition with dis-
pleasure. We love to see a generous emulation
among our people, and take all proper means to en-
courage those aspiring spirits who bring honor 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 honor."
“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 remunera-
tion."
Highness !” said Antonio, looking earnestly at
the doge, who again arrested his movement, in sur-
1


THE BRAVO.
155
thered
OT:
.
1
P
man, nor utter aught, in truth, against the known
impartiality of the laws!"
“Sovrano Mio! deign to listen, and you shall
hear. I am what your eyes behold a man, poor, la-
borious, 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
hum-
ble name is to be found among those of the patri-
cians who have served the republic in her wars-
that is an honor 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 promis-
ing shoot—they have exposed the sole companion
labors and pleasures, the child to whom I
IT have looked to close my eyes, when it shall please
En God to call me away, untaught, and young in les-
sons of honesty and virtue, a boy in principle as in
3."
years, to all the temptation, and sin, ånd dangerous
companionship of the galleys!”
“ Is this all? I had thought thy gondola in the
decay, or thy right to use the Lagunes in question!”
“ Is this all ?" repeated Antonio, looking around
him in bitter melancholy. “Doge of Venice, it is
more than one, old, heart-stricken, and bereaved,
can bear!”
“Go to; take thy golden chain and oar, and de-
part among thy fellows in triumph. Gladden thy
is heart at a victory, on which thou could'st not, in
reason, have counted, and leave the interests of the
66
T
of my,
The


156
THE BRAVO.
state to those that are wiser than thee, and more
fitted to sustain its cares."
The fisherman arose with an air of rebuked sub-
mission, the result of a long life passed in the habit
of political deference; 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 utters sedition ! let him quit the galley."
Antonio was hurried from the presence, and
forced into his gondola with very unequivocal signs
of disgrace. This unwonted interruption of the
ceremonies 'clouded many a brow, for the sensibili-
ties of a Venetian noble were quick, indeed, to re-
prehend the immorality of political discontent,
though the conventional dignity of the class sup-
pressed all other ill-timed exhibition of dissatisfac-
tion.
“Let the next competitor draw near," continued
the sovereign, with a composure that constant prac-
tice in dissimulation rendered easy.
The unknown waterman to whose secret favor
Antonio owed his success, approached, still con-
cealed by the licensed mask.
“Thou art the gainer of the second prize," said
the prince, “and were rigid justice done, thou
should'st receive the first also, since our favor is not
to be rejected with impunity.-Kneel
, that I may
bestow the favor.”
“Highness, pardon!” observed the masker, bow-
ing with great respect, but withdrawing a single
step from the offered reward; “if it be your gra-
cious will to grant a boon, for the success of the


THE BRAVO.
157
/
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 respect-
ful, in this great presence. I ask but little, and, in
the end, it may cost the republic less, than that
which is now offered.”
66 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 cor-
rupt 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
pétition, 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 see
thee, eye to eye.”
“I have heard that he who kept civil speech, and
in naught 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 com-
mand thee, unmask.”
The waterman, reading in every face around him
the necessity of obedience, slowly withdrew the
means of concealment, and discovered the pallid
countenance and glittering eyes of Jacopo. An in-
voluntary movement of all near, left this dreaded
VOL. I.
0


158
THE BRAVO.
person standing, singly, confronted with the prince
of Venice, in a wide circle of wondering and curi-
ous listeners.
“I know thee not!” exclaimed the doge, with an
open amazement that proved his sincerity, after re-
garding the other earnestly for a moment. “Thy
reasons for the disguise should be better than thy
reasons for refusing the prize."
The Signor Gradenigo drew near to the sover-
eign, and whispered in his ear. When he had done,
the latter cast one look, in which curiosity and aver-
sion were in singular union, at the marked counte-
nance 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 expression of their faces, that
it was in obedience to a feeling of a mixed charac-
ter. 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 ?"
“Highnes3, 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 ?”


THE BRAVO.
159
66
« Highness, yes."
“ And it would seem that the Duke of St. Agata
is happy in the possession of an honest and faithful
follower ?”
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 humble inclination of the body. At this
moment the attention of the spectators was drawn
from the short and simple ceremony 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 Antonio, borne along in the
floating multitude, without any effort of his own.
The general impulsion was received from the vigor-
ous 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 sin-
gular and characteristic procession. The tenants
of the Lagunes, with the fickleness with which ex-
treme ignorance acts on human passions, had sud-
denly experienced a violent revolution 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 impre-
cations 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


160
THE BRAVO.
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 merit of one was at once intimately and
inseparably connected with the glory and exultation
of all.
Had the triumph of the fisherman confined itself
to this natural and commonplace exhibition, it would
not have given grave offence to the vigilant and
jealous power that watched over the peace of Ven-
ice. But, amid the shouts of approbation were
mingled cries of censure. Words of grave import
were even heard, denouncing those who refused to
restore to Antonio his child; and it was whispered
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 forci-
ble 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 unaccustomed to reflection on such a
subject, or unpractised in the world, might have
fancied alarm and uneasiness were painted on the
grave countenances of the patricians, and that the
signs of the times were little favorable to the con-
tinuance of an ascendency that was dependent more
on the force of convention, than on the possession
of any physical superiority. But, on the other hand,
one who was capable of judging between the power
of political ascendency, strengthened by its combi-
nations and order, and the mere ebullitions of pas-
sion, 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


168
THE BRAVO.
“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
freedom of the boy."
“Speak them fair, and say naught 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 favor 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 hope
lessness 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 cross-
ed his passage, and that, in truth, he was a prisoner.
Nature had endowed the fisherman with a quick and
just perception, and long habit had given great stead-
iness 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 resig-
nation.
" It must be that the illustrious Signore wish to do
me justice,” he said, smoothing the remnant of his
hair, as men of his class prepare themselves for the
presence of their superiors, “and it would not be
decent, in an humble fisherman, to refuse them the


170
THE BRAVO.
and omnipotent Ruler of the Universe. With the
first of these principles we have nothing to do, ex-
cept it be to add that there are propositions so inhe-
rently 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 cannot claim the dis-
tinction of being either the first, or the last, who
have imagined that to take the incipient steps in po-
litical improvement, is at once to reach the goal of
perfection. 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 representation of the most prominent
and brilliant interests in society was the paramount
object of government, and, faithful to the seductive,
but dangerous, error, she mistook to the last, collec-
tive power for social happiness.
It may be taken as a governing principle, in all
civil relations, that the strong will grow stronger,
and the feeble more weak, until the first become un-
fit to rule, or the last unable to endure. In this im-
portant truth is contained the secret of the downfall
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 excesses.
Venice, though ambitious and tenacious of the


172
THE BRAVO.
openly avowed to be a dispensation of Providence.
The patrician order had its high and exclusive priv-
ileges, which were guarded and maintained with a
most selfish and engrossing spirit. He who was
not born to govern, had little hope of ever entering
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, nobility did not take its
usual appellations) were admitted into the councils
of the nation. The names of the leading families
were inscribed in a register, which was well entitled
the “Golden Book," and he who enjoyed the envied
distinction 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 honors 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 vi-
cious, and which was, perhaps, only rendered tolera-
ble to those it governed, by the extraneous contri
butions of captured 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 tolera-
ble to its own citizens, was but another cause of its
eventual destruction.
As the senate became too numerous to conduct,
with sufficient secrecy and dispatch, the affairs of a
state that pursued a policy alike tortuous and com-
plicated, the most general of its important interests
were intrusted to a council composed of three hun-
dred 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 Coun-


176
THE BRAVO.
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 coun-
try and climate, but rather of a size 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 centre, which, like every
other article of the scanty furniture, had the same
melancholy covering as the walls. In the angles 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 concealed 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, prevented all recognition of their persons.
One of this powerful 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


THE BRAVO.
177
impression on Antonio was too manifest to be lost.
It is probable that the long pause which followed
his introduction, was intended to produce, and to
note this effect, for keen eyes were intently watch-
ing his countenance during its continuance.
“ Thou art called Antonio, of the Lagunes ?" de-
manded one of the secretaries near the table, when
a sign had been secretly made from the crimson
member of that fearful tribunal, to proceed.
“ A poor fisherman, eccellenza, who owes much
to blessed Saint Antonio of the Miraculous Draught.”
“ 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 infi-
del from Corfu to Candia. He was slain, noble Sig-
nore, 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 papers in their hands, with some haste
and confusion. Glances were sent back at the
judges, who sate motionless, wrapped in the impen-
etrable 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 footsteps 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 fish-
erman, 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


178
THE BRAVO.
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 rectify. St. Mark is happy in having
among his proudest and oldest names, senators who
enter thus familiarly into the interests of his meanest
children!"
“ Let the man be again introduced,” resumed the
judge, slightly bending his head to the compliment.
These accidents are unavoidable in the press of af.
fairs."
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, An-
tonio ?" 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 labors on the La-
gunes ?”
“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 de-
liverance ! If your eccellenza 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


THE BRAVO.
170
4
into the water, without an ave or a prayer to St.
à Anthony, and who has never given me uneasiness,
until he fell into the grip 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 lib-
erty.”
“ And this thou hast done openly, and with little
deference 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 say of the justice and kindness of the state were
true, his highness would have heard me as a father
and a man.”
A slight movement among the fearful Three, caus-
ed the secretary to pause ; when he saw, however,
that his superiors 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
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 favor of the senate
and its prince?"
this
“I came in the garb which I wear before the Vir-
gin and St. Antonio, and if I was foremost in the race,
it was more owing to the goodness and favor 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,
a
int


180
THE BRAVO.
or curiosity, 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 naught 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 pale-
ness of the cheek was the same, and the glowing
eye, which so singularly 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, An-
tonio, to the favor 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 re-
jected petition in behalf 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
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


THE BRAVO.
181
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 wis-
dom.”
When the fisherman had done speaking, he ad-
vanced, 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 doge wed the Adriatic, in the presence of thc
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
questions.
“ Thou must account, and clearly account, Anto-
nio,” he said, “ for the manner in which this sacred
ring, came into thy possession; hadst thou any one
to aid thee in obtaining it?"
“Signore, I had.”
“ Name him, at once, that we take measures for
his security."
“ 'Twill be useless, Signore ; he is far above the
power of Venice.”
VOL. I.
66


184
THE BRAVO.
“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 honors
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
“Ah! eccellenza, when one has a white head and
a failing 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 victor, thou went 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


THE BRAVO.
187
the irreverent fishermen "dare thus to speak lightly
of her glory!"
“ Eccellenza, I know little of rights that come by
violence. 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 un-
derstand hath not been given to those who have
so much power to suffer.”
An anxious pause succeeded this reply.
“ Thou mayest withdraw, Antonio," said he, who
apparently presided in the dread councils of the
Three. - Thou wilt not speak of what has happen-
ed, and thou wilt await the inevitable justice of St.
Mark, in full confidence of its execution.”
“ Thanks, illustrious senator ; I will obey your
excellency; but my heart is full, and I would fain
say a few words concerning the child, before I quit
this noble company."
“ 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 call-
ing its chiefs heartless, and sold to ambition !” said
the old man, with generous warmth, disregarding
the stern rebuke which gleamed in the eye of Ja-
copo.
" 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 discredita-
ble discourse,” uttered a secretary, in a half-whis-
per.
« Proceed."
“I have little now to offer, Signori; I am not


188
THE BRAVO.
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 repub-
lic. 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, if such it be I am
not of a courage and pride to send forth my own
flesh and blood into the danger and corruption 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 beneath the sands, and until, by the aid of
blessed St. Anthony, 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
his life, that he will not be driven about by every
pleasant or treacherous wind that may happen to
blow upon his bark. Signori, you are rich, and
powerful, and honored, and though you may be
placed in the way of temptations to do wrongs that
are suited to your high names and illustrious for.
tunes, ye know little of the trials of the poor. What
are the temptations of the blessed St. Anthony him-


190
THE BRAVO.
1
Christians and men. That God hath not given to all
the same chances in life, I well know, for it often hap-
pens that I draw an empty net, when my comrades
are 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 foretell the evil of
the still innocent child. Blessed 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 mayest 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 sti onger
even than the law, and I should discredit her feel-
ings 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, with-
out giving opportunity for a parting kiss, or a part-
ing blessing-ye have used my flesh and blood as
ye would use the wood of the arsenal, and sent it
forth
upon
the sea 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 stiffened limbs to do
ye pleasure, rendered ye the jewel which St. Antho-
ny 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 unfitto
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 hardness of heart and
a wasting of the means of the poor, that would ill
become the most grasping Hebrew of the Rialto!"
my


196
THE BRAVO.
“ Youth is the season of indiscretion, as ye know,
Signori,” returned the father, breathing more freely,
w and as none become old that have not been young,
I have little need to awaken
your recollection of its
weaknesses. I trust my son is incapable of design-
ing aught against the republic ?”
“Of that he is not suspected.” A slight expres-
sion of 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
an usage well known to one of its most ancient and
most honorable members."
“Such is the law, and none coming of me shall
show it disrespect. I have preferred my claims to
that connexion, openly, but with diffidence; and I
await the decision of the state, in respectful confi-
dence."
His associates bowed in courteous acknowledg.
ment of the justice of what he said, and of the
loyalty of his conduct, 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 communica-
tions to make on the interest of the
young heiress,
thyself ?”
"I am pained to say, that the deep obligation con-
ferred by Don Camillo Monforte, seems to have
wrought upon her youthful imagination, and I
appre
hend 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 mat-
ters."


198
THE BRAVO.
3
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 con-
cern, without seeing an immediate interest in the
judgment, we should trifle with a gale of fortune 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
consideration 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.”
• 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 im-
agination, till she shall conceit the Neapolitan a
Moor, and an infidel. 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 tru-
ant practices."
“ The Signore Gradenigo was a gallant in his
time,” observed the third, “ as all well know who
travelled in his company. 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,” re-
joined the accused, a withered smile lighting his
faded countenance; "we have been young, Signori;
but among us all, I never knew a Venetian of more
general fashion and of better report, especially


THE BRAVO.
201
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 shudder expressed their
Italian sympathy, 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," observed 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 different speakers.
* I have seen pleasant hours even with the Genoese,
though their town hath a cast of reflection and so-
briety, 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, 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 fash-
ion of Amsterdam 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 petticoats!"
The three old Italians, in whom this sally excited
& multitude of absurd recollections and pleasant
fancies, broke 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


202
THE BRAVO.
Each listened an instant, as if in expectation 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 past night, in the lion's mouth. Sig-
nor Gradenigo, you were charged with the examina-
tion."
“ 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 connexion. 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 possess her person and riches. It speaketh
of proofs in possession of the accuser, as if he
were an agent intrusted by the Neapolitan. As a
pledge of his truth, I suppose, for there is no men-
tion made of any other use, he sends the signet of
Don Camillo himself, which cannot have been ob-
tained without that noble's confidence.”
“ Is it certain that he owns the ring ?”.
5. Of that am I well assured. You know I am
especially charged with conducting his personal de
mand 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 identified this, as
the missing ring.”
“ Thus far it is clear, though there is an obscurity
in the circumstance that the signet of the accused


204
THE BRAVO.
matter, that, of all others, made him most value his
temporary authority, stood abashed and silent-read-
ing in his countenance, however, a desire to know
more, his associates proceeded to communicate al
it was their intention he should hear.
“ It hath been determined to remove the lady to a
suitable retirement, and for this purpose care hath
been already had to provide the means. Thou wilt
be temporarily relieved 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 nature of the suspicions that beset
him. He had too long been familiar with the sinu-
ous 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 features, therefore, to wear a smile as treacher-
ous 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 kind
ness of heart, rather than of the duty of a poor sub-
ject of St. Mark, to toil on in his service while he
hath strength and reason for the 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 case, you will per-
mit 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


THE BRAVO
207
a youngster of ten who could not mould our soft
Italian into better rhyme than this."
“ 'Tis the wantonness of security. Let it pass,
for all that serveth to amuse suppresseth turbulent
thoughts. Shall we now see his highness, Sig-
nori?”
“ You forget the fisherman," gravely observed the
Signor Gradenigo.
“ Your honor sayeth true. What a head for busi-
ness hath he! Nothing that is useful escapeth his
ready mind.”
The old senator, while he was too experienced to
be cajoled by such language, saw the necessity of
appearing flattered. Again he bowed, and protested
aloud and frequently against the justice of compli-
ments 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 apparent in the course of the narrative, we
shall not continue to detail the conversation that ac-
companied their deliberations. The sitting was long,
so long indeed that when they arose, having com-
pleted 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 remember right, he greatly outnumbers either of
as 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


208
THE BRAVO.
es.
person with the offering, as I know of certainty.
Tis not a serious gift, but a mere remembrance to
keep himself in the odor 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 wish-
“ Thou art moody to-night, Signor Gradenigo.
Thou art not used to be so silent with thy friends."
“I am not the less grateful, Signore, for their fa-
vors. If I have a loaded countenance, I bear a light-
ened 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, frequently, like sorrow; ay,
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 me-
nials entered and extinguished the lights, leaving all
behind then in an obscurity that was no bad type
of the gloomy mysteries of the place.
1
CHAPTER XIV.
5
" 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 BRAVO.
209
the laugh or the song was echoed among the arches
of the palaces. The piazza and piazzetta 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 re-
mote, 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 thrill-
ing 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 bal-
cony 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 dif-
ferent 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 capitals of more revelry," said the charmed
Violetta, withdrawing her person from its leaning
attitude, as the voices ceased ; " but in such a night
and at this witching hour, what city may compare
with Venice ?"
“ Providence has been less partial in the distribu-
tion of its earthly favors than is apparent to a vul-
går eye,” returned the attentive Carmelite.
have our peculiar enjoyments and our moments of
divine contemplation, other towns have advantages
of their own; Genoa 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
66 If we
S 2


210
THE BRAVO.
to
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 An-
selmo. 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,"
observed the mild Donna Florinda, raising her eyes
towards the pale countenance of the monk;
admire the beauties of nature, is to worship him
who gave them being."
At that moment a burst of music rose on the air,
proceeding from the water beneath the balcony.
Donna Violetta started back, abashed, and as she
held her breath in wonder, and haply with that de-
light which open admiration is apt to excite in a
youthful female bosom, the color mounted to her
temples.
“ There passeth a band;" calmly observed the
Donna Florinda.
No, it is a cavalier! There are gondoliers, ser-
vitors in his colors."
“ This is as hardy as it may be gallant;" return-
ed the monk, who listened to the air with an evident
and grave displeasure.
There was no longer any doubt but that a seren-
ade was meant. Though the custom was of much
use, it was the first time that a similar honor 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


THE BRAVO.
211
tender years and high condition, had, until that mo-
ment, kept the aspiring, the vain, and the interested,
equally in awe.
“ It is for me!" whispered the trembling, the dis
tressed, the delighted Violetta.
“ It is for one of us, indeed;" answered the car
tious 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-whis-
pered, afraid to trust her voice, lest a sound should
escape her ears. They touch an air of Petrarch's
sonnatas! How indiscreet, and yet how noble !”
“ More noble than wise;" said the Donna Florin-
da, who entered the balcony, and looked intently on
the water beneath.
“ Here are musicians in the color of a noble in
one gondola," she continued, " and a single cavalier
in another."
“ Hath he no servitor ?-Doth he ply the oar him-
66
self?
Truly that decency hath not been overlooked ;
one in a flowered jacket guides the boat."
“ 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 him! His claim will
be refused-himself banished. Is it not
near


212
THE BRAVO.
the hour when the gondola of the police passes ?
Admonish him to depart, good Florinda-and yes
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 in
dulgent observer of the emotion, which sensations
80 novel had awakened in the ardent but unprac.
tised 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
passions, 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 gondolas are moving away,
and we have not made even the customary acknow.
ledgments 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 unthanked.”


THE BRAVO.
213
“ Rest you, within. I will watch the movement
of the boats, for it surpasseth female endurance not
to note their aspect."
6. Thanks, dearest Florinda ! hasten, lest they en-
ter the other canal ere thou seest them."
The governess was quickly in the balcony. Ac-
tive 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.
# That with the musicians is already entering the
great canal, but that of the cavalier hath unaccount-
ably 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
nowhere see the master!”
“ Blessed Maria! can aught have befallen the
gallant Duca di Sant' Agata ?”
“ Naught but the happiness of casting himself
here!” exclaimed a voice near the person of the
heiress. The Donna Violetta turned her gaze from
the balcony, and beheld 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.
66 This may not be ;' said the latter in a reprov-
ing voice.
· Arise, Don Camillo, lest I repent list-
ening to your prayer; you exceed our conditions."
· Ås much as this emotion exceedeth my hopes,"


214
THE BRAVO.
answered the noble.“ Holy father, it is vain to op-
pose Providence! 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 sa.
cred of all vows, to possess thy wealth ?"
« For whom am I destined ?" demanded Violetta.
“ No matter, since it be not for me. Some traf.
ficker 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
authority;" 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 the
policy of the republic opposes. Arise then, and
respect your pledges.”
“ That shall be as this lady may decide. Encour-
age me with but an approving look, fairest Violetta,
and not Venice, 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 !"
“ 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 ardor of the


THE BRAVO.
215
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 fea-
tures 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 distress, and she endeavor-
ed to interpose between the impetuous youth and
her charge.
“. It may be as you say, Signor Monforte," she
said, “ and that the senate, in its fatherly care,
searches a partner 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 condi-
tion 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 hus-
band ?"
“ 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 with-
held from my family, with the honors of the senate
that are justly mine. All these do I joyfully abandon
for the hope of thy favor.”
Thou hearest, Florinda: Don Camillo is not to
be distrusted!”
• What are the senate and the power of St. Mark,
that 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 disappointment shall furnish mer.
riment for my vassals, and our felicity shall make
the happiness of thousands. I affect no disrespect
for the dignity of the councils, nor any indifference


216
THE BRAVO.
to that I lose, but to me art thou far more precious
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 resolution in thine eye, Violetta;
thou wilt manifest a will superior to their arts and
egotism."
“ I would not be trafficked for, Don Camillo Mon-
forte, but wooed and won as befitteth a maiden of
my condition. They may still leave me liberty of
choice. The Signor Gradenigo hath much encour-
aged 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 favor for his own prodigal son; a cavalier
without honor, 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, interposing 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, 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 would'st be the cause of persecution and un-
merited sorrow to this innocent and inexperienced
maiden."


THE BRAVO.
210
29
* There are officials of the state below, who de.
mand admission in the name of the republic ?"
“ This grows serious,” said Don Camillo, who
alone retained his self-possession. “My visit is
known, and the active jealousy of the state antici-
pates its' object. Summon your resolution, Donna
Violetta, and you, father, be of heart! I will assume
the responsibility of the offence, if offence it be, and
exonerate all others from censure.”
“ Forbid it, Father Anselmo. Dearest Florinda,
we will share his punishment !” exclaimed the terri-
fied Violetta, losing all self-command in the fear of
such a moment. “ He has not been guilty of this in-
discretion without participation of mine; he has not
presumed beyond his encouragement."
The monk and Donna Florinda regarded each
other in mute amazement, and haply there was
some admixture of feeling in the look that denot-
ed 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
domestic.
66 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
Violetta.”
“There is still hope!” rejoined the monk, breath-
ing more freely. Moving across the room, he opened
a door which communicated with the private orato-
ry of the palace. “Retire within this sacred chapel,
Don Camillo, while we await the explanation of so
extraordinary a visit."
As the time pressed, the suggestion was obeyed
on the instant. "The lover entered the oratory, and


220
THE BRAVO.
when the door was closed upon his person, the
domestic, one known to be worthy of all confi-
dence, 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 government, who was often charged with the
execution of secret and delicate duties. Donna Vi-
oletta advanced to meet him, in respect to his em-
ployers, and with the return of that self-possession,
which long practice interweaves with the habits of
the great.
“I am honored by this care of my dreaded and
illustrious guardians," she said, making an acknow-
ledgment for the low reverence with which the offi-
cial saluted the richest ward of Venice. - To what
circumstance do I owe this visit?"
The officer gazed an instant about him, with an
habitual and suspicious caution, and then repeating
his salutations, he answered.
Lady,” he said, "I am commanded to seek an
interview with the daughter of the state, the heiress
of the illustrious house of Tiepolo, with the Donna
Florinda Mercato, her female companion, with the
Father Anselmo, her commissioned confessor, and
with any other who enjoy the pleasure of her society
and the honor of her confidence."
“ Those you seek are here; I am Violetta Tiepo-
lo; to this lady am I indebted for a mother's care,
and this reverend Carmelite is my spiritual counsel-
lor. Shall I summon my household ?”
“ It is unnecessary. My errand is rather of pri-
vate than of public concern.
At the decease of
your late most honored and much-lamented parent,
the illustrious senator Tiepolo, the care of your
person, lady, was committed by the republic, your
natural and careful protector, to the especial guar-


THE BRAVO.
221
dianship and wisdom of Signore Alessandro Gra-
denigo, of illustrious birth and estimable qualities.”
"Signore, you say true.”
Though the parental love of the councils may
have seemed to be dormant, it has ever been wake-
ful and vigilant. Now that the years, instruction,
beauty, and other excellencies of their daughter,
have come to so rare perfection, they wish to draw
the ties that unite them nearer, by assuming their
own immediate duties about her person.”
By this I am to understand that I am no longer
a ward of the Signor Gradenigo ?”
“ Lady, a ready wit has helped you to the expla-
nation. 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 honora-
ble trust, until the wisdom of the senate shall have
formed for you such an alliance, as shall not dispar-
age a noble name and qualities that might adorn a
throne.”
“Am I to be separated from those I love ?" de-
manded Violetta, impetuously.
“ Trust to the senate's wisdom. I know not its
determination concerning those who have long
dwelt with
you,
but there can be no reason to doubt
its tenderness or discretion. I have now only to
add, that until those charged anew with the honora-
ble office of your protectors shall arrive, it will
be well to maintain the same modest reserve in
the reception of visitors as of wont, and that your
door, lady, must in propriety be closed against the
Signor Gradenigo as against all others of his sex.”
“ Shall I not even thank him for his care?"
“ He is tenfod rewarded in the senate's grati-
tude.”
“ It would have been gracious to have expressed
my feelings towards the Signor Gradenigo in
T2


222
THE BRAVO.
words; but that which is refused to the tongue will
be permitted to the pen."
6. The reserve that becomes the state of one so fa-
vored is absolute. St. Mark is jealous where he
loves. And, now my commission is discharged, I
humbly take my leave, flattered in having been se-
lected to stand in such a presence, and to have been
thought worthy of so honorable a duty."
As the officer ceased speaking and Violetta re-
turned his bows, she turned her eyes, filled with ap-
prehension, on the sorrowful features of her com-
panions. The ambiguous language of those em-
ployed in such missions was too well known to
leave much hope for the future. They all antici-
pated 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 Flo-
rinda 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 resolution. He regarded the countenance
of the unconscious Carmelite intently, and in a man-
ner 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 at his side while the other


THE BRAVO.
227
even in my own 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, stretch-
ing forth an arm into his own 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 relin-
quish its hold of the line, with which he still con-
tinued to angle.
“And these are thy gifts, Jacopo ?” he asked in a
voice that, spite of his resignation, betrayed the
longings of appetite.
“ Antonio, they are the offerings of one who re-
spects thy courage and honors thy nature.”
“ Bought with his earnings ?”
“Can it be otherwise ?-I am no beggar, 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 a penance ?"
hastily exclaimed the other.
6 Not so not so. It is long since I have found
leisure or heart for the confessional.”
92


230
3
THE BRAVO.
me
standest, Antonio, the distinctions of these patricians
In the gaiety of their palaces, and among the com-
panions of their pleasures, none will speak you fairer
of humanity and justice-ay-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--) would not do
injustice even to those who have done this wrong.
The senators are men, and God has given all feel-
ings 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 children 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
virtue and services to the state, but in their own
cases they mean the virtue of renown, and services
that bring with them honors 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 men. 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 ; 't is an in-
vention of man. Mark me, Antonio, thy language
hath given offence, 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 ?"
“ If thou wert great and respected, they would


THE BRAYO.
231
66 We
undermine thy fortune and character, ere thou
should'st put their system in danger-as thou art
weak and poor, they will do thee some direct in
jury, unless thou art moderate. Before all, I warn
thee that their system must stand !"
“ Will God suffer this?”
e may not enter into his secrets;" returned the
Bravo, devoutly crossing himself. “Did his reign
end with this world, there might be injustice in suf-
fering the wicked to 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. “Anto-
nio, we should do well to row away."
Thy fears are natural,” said the unmoved fish-
erman, “ and 'tis 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 ca-
nals.”
“Quick, lift thy anchor, old man, and depart,
my eye is sure. I know the boat."
“ Poor Jacopo! what a curse is a tender con-
science! 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,


232
THE BRAVO.
lest he come to some such miserable life!” he add-
ed, in an audible 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 feverishly in the direction
of the fugitive. Jacopo, with a readiness that ne-
cessity and long practice rendered nearly instinct-
ive, 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, effectually concealed the objects within its
width. 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 coun-
cil will not forgive! The sight of gold hath been
too strong, and he hath offended 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
friendship of such as he could never have been wel-
come.”
· Antonio ceased, for the gondola of the state
came with a rushing noise to the side of his own
boat, where it was suddenly stopped by a back-
ward 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 curios,
ity; but when he saw the gondoliers of we state


234
THE BRAVO.
66
fesseth his errors, with a sincere admission of their
magnitude.”
“ Have you come, father, to shrive a penitent?”
“ 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 gondola 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 criminal 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, plying his
line with indifference, “for the very man he now
seeks has he long tolerated; ay, even in presence
of the doge. The senate hath its reasons which lie
beyond the reach of the ignorant, but it would have
been better for the soul of the poor youth, and
more seemly for the republic, had it turned a dis-
couraging countenance on his deeds from the first.”
“ Thou speakest of another !—thou art not then
the criminal they seek ?”
“I am a sinner, like all born of woman, reverend
Carmelite, 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 ?"
have
your eyes,
and
you can an-
swer that question for yourself. He is gone; though
he is not far; still is he beyond the reach of the
swiftest gondola in Venice, praised be St. Mark!"
The Carmelite bowed his head, where he was
.
66
Father, you


THE BRAVO.
235
seated, and his lips moved, either in prayer or
in thanksgiving
“ Are you sorry, monk, that a sinner has es-
caped ?"
* Son, I rejoice that this bitter office hath passed
from me, while I mourn that there should be a spirit
so depraved as to require it. Let us summon the
servants of the republic, and inform them that their
errand is useless."
“ Be not of haste, 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 he be undisturbed.”
The Carmelite, who had arisen, instantly reseated
himself, like one actuated by a strong impulse.
“ I thought he had already been far beyond pur-
suit,” he muttered, unconsciously apologizing for
his apparent haste.
“ He is over bold, and I fear he will row back to
the canals, 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 want-
ed an occasion to acknowledge his sins."
Men who ardently wish the same result, require
few words to understand each other. The Carme-
lite took, intuitively, the meaning of his companion,
and throwing back his cowl, a movement that ex-
posed the countenance of Father Anselmo, he
pre-
pared 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 peni-
tent;" said the monk, when each was ready.
“I am a sinner, father; give me counsel and ab-
solution, that I may have hope."
Thy will be done—thy prayer's heard-ap-
proach and kneel.”


THE BRAVO.
237
4
“ Thou must not trifle with thyself to thine own
perdition. There is an eye in yon vault above us
which pervades space, and which looks into the in-
most 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 counte-
nance illuminated by the moon. Stretching his arms
towards the stars, he pronounced the absolution, in
a voice that was touched with pious fervor. The
upward expectant eye, with the withered linea-
ments 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 Carmel-
ite 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 gondola of the state. It came
rowing down with great force, and was instantly
at their side. Two men passed into the boat of An-
tonio, and with officious zeal assisted the monk to
resume his place in that of the republic.
* Is the penitent shrived ?” half whispered one,
seemingly the superior of the two.
6 Here is an error. He thou seekst has escaped,
This aged man is a fisherman named Antonio, and
one who cannot have gravely offended St. Mark.


238
THE BRAVO.
PI
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 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 sudden jerk. A heavy
plashing of the water followed, and the two boats
shot away together, obedient to a violent effort of
the crew.
The gondoia 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 sur-
face, after his fall, he was alone in the centre of the
vast but tranquil sheet of water. There might have
been a glimmering 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 his 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. Fayored
by position, he could see without being distinctly
visible. He saw the Carmelite pronouncing the ab-
solution, and he witnessed the approach of the larger
boat. He heard a plunge heavier than that of fall-
ing oars, and he saw the gondola of Antonio towing
away empty. The crew of the republic had scarce.
ly swept the Lagunes with their oar-blades, before
his own stirred the water.


.





BAPR 301