CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY 
 
 3 1924 092 922 321 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924092922321 
 
THE BRAVO. 
 
 A TALE. 
 
 Bt J. ,fenimore cooper 
 
 " SlmtUa In palano, ■ pane In pUna." 
 
 flOMPLBTK a ONB VOLUHS. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 PUBLISHED BY KURD AND HOUGHTON, 
 
 CambtCtie: XltbevsOie 9<t>>- 
 
 1870. 
 
THE BRAVO. 
 
 Entered, according to the Act of Congress, in tne year 185*, hy 
 
 W. i. TOWNSEND & COMPANY, 
 
 la the Clark's Office of the District Court fur tbo Socthein Diitrlel < 
 New Tort 
 
 Z'i-f^^^ 1270 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 It is to he negrettfed the world does not 
 /iscriminate more justly in its use of politi- 
 cal terms. Goveinnmentfi are usually called 
 either monarchies or republics. The former 
 class embraces equally those institutions in 
 which the soTereign is worshipped as a God, 
 and those in which he perfbrrms 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 
 coimtrymen, in this book, a picture of the 
 social system of otie 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 familial 
 t>perations of Venetiati poKcy. For the 
 justification of his likeness, after allowing 
 H)r the defects of execution, he refers to the 
 
 Well-known work of M . Daru. 
 A2 
 
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 SwitzeHand, 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 chaiter, and that the most despotic 
 government which exists within the pale, of 
 
PREFACE. vii 
 
 Quristendom, 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 diflerent institutions, 
 
Tiii PREFACE 
 
 must be evident on the small^t reflectibti, 
 since theidangerof all po|>t1ar gov«itli»ieiits 
 is from popular mistakes, and a people of 
 diversifieid inte)nests and extended territorial 
 possessioBfl, are much less Ukely to bfe tke 
 subjects of sinister passicms, than the faifaab- 
 itants of a ein^ tiowai) or causaMjh If to 
 this definitiodSi we shoi^ aidd, as an ihfaUible 
 test ^ the' g^ius, that a trOe r^mblio is a 
 governmeot of which aU others are jeaibtjs 
 and vit«iperatiTe» on tine instinct of Beif'fW)- 
 servatioA) we believe there would be no mis- 
 taking the clas3» How fat Venice would have 
 been obnoxious to this proo^ the reader is 
 j£ft to judge for hunseUL 
 
THE BRAVO. 
 
 CHAPTER L 
 
 <* I itood in Venice on the Bridgfe of Siglis, 
 A palace and a<priaon on each hand ; 
 I saw from out the wave her structurea riae, 
 Ab from the stroke of the enchanter's wand : 
 A thousand years their cloudy winrs expand 
 Around me, and a dying glory smiles 
 O'er the far times, when many a subject land 
 liook'd to the winged lions' marble pdes, 
 Where Venice sate in state, tlironed on her hundred islaa," 
 
 BraoN. 
 
 The sun had disappeared behind the summits of 
 the Tyrolean Alps, and the moon was already risep 
 above the low barrier of the Lido. Hundreds of 
 pedestrians were pouring out of the narrow streets 
 of Venice into the square of St. Marl(, like water 
 gushing through some strait aqueduct, into a broad 
 and bubbling Lasin. 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, podesta, valet, avvocato and gondolier, 
 held their way alike to the (.ommon 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 
 Hute; the grimace of the buflbon, and the tragic 
 frown of the improvisatore ; the pyramid of the gro- 
 tesque, the comjjelled 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 BIIAVO. 
 
 nenl objects, of the place, rendered the scene the 
 most remarkable of Christendom. 
 
 On the very fcWfmes of that' line 'which separates 
 western from eastern Europe, and in constant com- 
 munieation with the latter, Venice j)ossessed a 
 greater admixture of charactei and costume, than- 
 any other of the nifmerous ports of that region. A 
 portion of this peculiarity is still to be observed, 
 undei the fallen tortuaes of the place; but at the pe- 
 riod of our tale, the city of the isles, though no 
 longer tnistress of the Mediterranean, nor even of 
 the Adriatic, was still rich and j)owerful. Her in- 
 fluence was felt in the councils of the civilized 
 world, and her commerce, though waning, was yet 
 suflrsient to uphold the vast po^fesswns of (hose 
 families, whose ancestors had become rich in the 
 day of hei prosperity. Men lived among her islands 
 in that state of incipient lethargy, which marks the 
 progress of a downward course, whether the de- 
 oUne be of a moral or of a phvsical decay. 
 
 At the hour we have named, the vast paraUelo- 
 gram of the piazza was filling fast, the cafes 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 xange 
 of edifices called the- Procuratories, the massive 
 pile of the Ducal Palace, the most ancient Christian 
 church, the granite columns of the piazzetta, the 
 triumphal masts of the great square, and the giddy 
 tower of the 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 
 pie structure presided over the other fixtures of the 
 place, like a monument of the republic's antiquity 
 
THE BRAVO. 11 
 
 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 
 <he 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 
 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 
 to bear the conquered ensigns of Candia, Constan- 
 tinople, and the Morea, cut the air by its side, in 
 4fcrk and fairy lines, while at the extremity of the 
 Smaller square, and near the margin of the sea, the 
 forms of the winged lion and the patron saint of 
 the city, each on his column of African granite, 
 were distinctly traced against the back-ground of 
 ■the azure sky. 
 
 It was near the base of the former of these massive 
 Uocks 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 
 in masques and others careless of being known, had 
 poured along the quay into the piazzetta, on theii 
 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- 
 liKd, and obedient waiting on another's (Measure 
 With folded arms, a body poised on one leg, and a 
 vacant though good-humored eye, he a[^)eared to 
 attend some beck of authoritj^ ere he quitted the 
 «pot A silken jacket, in whose tissue flowers of 
 
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 famiUarity .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 his 
 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 lie re- 
 plied. 
 
 " There was more need of the wings of thy Ijon 
 than of the favor of thy saint. I never come fur- 
 
THE BKAVO. 13 
 
 iher 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 al 
 quieting the winds. But there was danger, then, of 
 losing the felucca and her brave people among the 
 Turks'?" ^ ^ ^ 
 
 "Theie was, in truth, a Tunis-man prowling 
 about, between Stromboli and Sicily; but, AH di 
 San Michele ! he might better have cinsed ihe cloud 
 above the volcano, than run after the felucca in a 
 sirocco!" 
 
 "Thou wast chicken-hearted, StefanoT" 
 
 " I ! — I was more like thy lion, here, with some 
 small additions of chains and muzzles." 
 
 " As was seen by thy felucca's speed V 
 
 " Cospetto ! I wished myself .i knight of San Gio- 
 vanni a thousand times during the chase, and T^ 
 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 bette- 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 thipe 
 to be dread of a Turk's arm. Thy native hills have 
 their soft as well as the?r 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 
 'brtune brings. If my soles are to be shod with 
 B 
 
14 fW. BRAVO. 
 
 btows, the honest pries*, of Sant' Agata -will be 
 cHeated of a penitent. I have bargained with the 
 ji;ood curato, that all such accidentalcalamities shall 
 go in the general account of peiiance. 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 yesterdavj and to-morrow will be as 
 to-dsiy. I row the gondola from the Rialto to the 
 (Juidecca ; from San Giorgio to San Marco ; from 
 San MArco to the liido, 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 crossfed into Dalmatia with thee 
 once, as a supernumerary, ihe 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 farfiifie ? The rogue 
 did nothing but eat maccarorii, and swallow the 
 lachrymse 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 tish coming into deep water." 
 
 " The honest fellow was crossmg the Gruidecca, 
 with a stranger who had occasion to say his pray- 
 ers at the Redentore, when*the brig hit' him in fte 
 eajiopy, and broke up the gondola as if it had been 
 a bubble left by the BiK^ntaur." 
 
 " The padrone should have been too generous to 
 complain of Pietro's clumsiness, since it met with 
 its own punishment." 
 
TIIF, BRAVD IS 
 
 " M adrc di Dio ! lie went to sea that hour, or tie 
 might be feeding the fishps of the; F/agunes! There 
 is not a gondolier in Venice who did not feel tlie 
 wrong at his heart ; and we linow how to obtain 
 justice for an insuk, as well as onr 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 TMricn-^How 
 is thy young -masitfir, Gino 1 and is he likely to obtain 
 his claims of the« senate f" 
 
 " He cools himself in the Giudecca in the morn- 
 ing; and if thou woiddV know what he does at 
 evening, thou hast only to look among the nobles in 
 the Broglio." 
 
 At the gondolier spoke, he glanced an eye aside, 
 at a group of patrician rank, who paced the gloomy 
 rareades whicti supported the mip^ior 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- 
 tdes have of coming to that low tmlonnade at this 
 hour, but I never before heaid 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 youttg noble eighs away 
 tile night! We happened to be near wJien the An- 
 coria-man perfortned his feat : while Giorgio and 1 
 .were boiling with rage at the awkwardness of the 
 stranger, my master, who never had much taste or 
 iiiowledge in gondolas* went into the water to save 
 Jie young fedy from sharing the fate of her uncle." 
 
 " Diavolo ! This is die first syUable thou hast nt- 
 
16 IHJi BRAVO. 
 
 tercd 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 Ih 
 death of a hunted dog by the carelessness of a gon 
 dolier!" 
 
 " It may have been lucky for the Ancona-man thai 
 it so fell out, for they say the Roman was one of in- 
 fluence enough to make a senator cross the Bridge 
 of Sighs, at need." 
 
 " The devil take all careless watermen, say I ! — 
 And what became of the awkward rogue?" 
 
 " I tell thee he went outside the Lido, that very 
 hour, or — " 
 
 "Pietrello?" 
 
 "He was brought up by the oar of Giorgio, foi 
 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 hia 
 death !" 
 
 " 111 luck follow her, say I, till she lays her bones 
 on some rock that is harder than the heart of 
 her padrone. As for the stranger, we could do no 
 more than ofler up a prayer to San Teodoro, sinco 
 ne never rose after the blow. But what has brought 
 thee to Venice, caro mio ? for thy ill-fortune with 
 the oranges, in the last vcyage, 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. 
 
■ttet B«AVO 17 
 
 •Look -Jtoa, GinO-Mfcy Wiastei- sbWietiines talL 
 IbT his gondola betwe^ sunset atid morningt" 
 
 « An <>wl is not more wakeful tlmri he has becft of 
 late. This head of mine has not bfcen Ofi a jHlioW 
 t)efore the sun has come above the Lido, since the 
 snows melted from Monselioe." 
 
 « And when the sun of tfiy master's conntenance 
 sets in his own paliMo, tKou hasi«nesf off to the 
 bridge of the RiaRO, among the jeweUers and butch- 
 ers, to proclaim the manner in "wliich he passed the 
 tti^t?" 
 
 "Diamine! 'T would be the last night I served 
 the Duca di Sant* Agata, were *ny tongue so limber 
 The gondolier and the confessor are me two privy- 
 r,onnciIlors of a noWe, Master Stefano, with this 
 small ditference>— ^hat thO last only knows what the 
 tinner wishes to reveal, while the first sometimes 
 knows more. 1 can find a safer, if not a more 
 honest employment, than to be running about with 
 tny master'^ Seci«*s in the air." 
 
 «' And I am -wisei- than to let evety Jew broker 
 in San Marco, here, have a peep into my charter- 
 party." 
 
 " N*y> old acquaintance, there is some difference 
 between our occupations, after all. A padrone of a 
 felucca cannot, in justice, be companed to the most 
 confidential gondolier of tt Neapolitan duke, who 
 Ijas an unsettled right to be admitted to tnc council 
 of three handred." 
 
 " Just the difference between smooth water and 
 ifOOgh-^you ruffle the surface of a canal with a .azy 
 haf, while I run the channel of Piombino in a mist- 
 ral, shoot the Faro of Messina 'n a white squall, 
 . double Santa' Maria de Leuca in a breathing Le- 
 vanter, and come skimniing 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." 
 
 ^ B2 
 
Ig THE BRAVO. 
 
 "Hist!" eagerly interrupted the gondolier, who 
 had indulged, with Italian humor, in the controversy 
 tor pre-eminence, though without any real feelings 
 •'here comes one who may think, else, we shall 
 have need o£ 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 disease. The 
 perfect condition of the physical man was sufhcient- 
 !y 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 ^'elvet, a dark Montero cap, 
 such 0.S 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 ai'- 
 ray of features gleamed an eye, that was full of 
 brilliancy, meaning, and passion. 
 
 As the stranger passed, his glittering organs roUeJ 
 over the persons of the gondolier and his com- 
 panion, but the look, though searching, was entirely 
 witliout interest. "Twas the wandering but wary 
 
THE BRAVO. 19 
 
 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 weil-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 
 ejaculated, with a strong respiration — 
 
 "Jacopo!" 
 
 His companion raised three of his fingers, with 
 an occult meaning, towards the palace of the doges. 
 
 " Do they let him take the air, even in San 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 would sooner lose 
 their hopes of the horned bonnet, than lose him. Ja- 
 copo I 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 op 
 some unhappy Ancona-man, were the body ever to 
 come up again." 
 
 « Well, no need of bawling it aloud, as if thoi 
 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 
 
so tnS. BltAfO. 
 
 eustom thar. he who has jtist gdrft t^ the piaa 
 aetta." 
 
 -* Two sequins !" rejoined the C'alabriati, enforcing 
 his meaning by a significant griMiaoe. 
 
 " Santa MAdonna 1 ThoU forgetoest, Stefano, that 
 not even tte eonfesfeor has afty trouble with a job 
 in which he has been employed. Not a earatano 
 less than a hwndted will buy a stroke of his art. 
 Vour blows, for two sequins, teave a man leisure 
 to tell tales, ot 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 gondoJier 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, a]:^ared 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 wdl 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 die state, itself, to-morrow." 
 
 " Hast thoa 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 notdes had best woo the bride 'wel!, for 
 there are heretics who lay claim to hsr good-will. 
 [ 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 
 ner path towards the Lagtraes." 
 
 " Did the sight warm thee at the soles of thy feet 
 «inodear?" "^ 
 
 "There was not a turbaned head on his deck, bu> 
 
THE BRAVO ^l 
 
 e««ry amweap set -upoB a wellreovered pcA sad « 
 shorn <^in. Thy Bucentaur ts oo kmger the bravesi 
 craft that floats between Dabiatia and the islaQcU. 
 though her gilding may glitter brightest. Tfaere are 
 men iieyona the piUara of Hercides who are not 
 satisfied with doing aU that can be done on theur owa 
 coasts, but who are pretending to do much of that 
 which can be done on ours.'^ 
 
 •«The Dopublic ia a little aged» caro, aad yeais 
 need rest / The joiittsiAf tlie Bnceaitaur are racked 
 hy time amd many voyages to thei Lido. I have 
 heard «ny master aay that the leap of t&e willed 
 lion is not as far as it •■fiaa, evem in bia young daysk'* 
 
 "Don Camillo hast' o reputation of talking Jtokliy 
 of the foundation of this eiiy of piili«fl» whea^ has 
 the roof of oM Sant' Agata safely over Im head. 
 Were he to speak more reverent^ c£ the horned 
 bonnet, and «kf the Council of Three* his piretensioaa 
 to succeed to the rights: of his feorefatheirs mighVseem 
 juster in the eyes m his jbdgesi But distance ia a 
 great melloiwer of «elov8^ and softener of feairs> My 
 own apkiion of the i^oed of the fbluoea* andof 
 the merits of a Tindc, nndeirgo ohanges of this sort 
 between port and the open sea j and I have known 
 ^ee^ good Qino, forget San Teodoro^ and bawl as 
 tustily to San Glennaro, whem at Naples:, as if <tliou 
 really fancied thyself in danger Iram the mountaia" 
 
 '*€lne murt'8peiih>to those at hand, ia ocder to be 
 qnicheat heanili^"'Tq'Qined the gondojiien casting a 
 glance that was partly hnmoroos, aad not ivrithout 
 superstitioi^ upnirards at the image whieJui crowned 
 the gniaiile< cdumn against whose pedestal he still 
 leaned. <*A truth which warns us to be prudent 
 for yvoider Jew cast a look this way, as if he felt a 
 conscientious scruple in lettmg any irreverend re 
 mark of ours go without r^oirtingj The bearded 
 old rogue 19 said I0 have other dealings 1 \iath the 
 Three Hundred besides asking for the moaeiyslife 
 
22 THE BRAVO. 
 
 has lent to their sons. And so^ Stefano, thou think- 
 est the republic will never plant smother 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 
 course. The day of San Marco has gone by, ana 
 tljat 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 
 Adriatip ? Thouforgettest 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. The en- 
 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 BRAVO. 23 
 
 t ' Even so ; and ^et the figs are as svireet as ever 
 and the beccafichi as tender! The ashes oi the 
 volcano cover all!" 
 
 " Gino," said a voice of authority, near the gon- 
 dolier. > 
 
 "Signore*" 
 
 Hs who interrupted the dialogue pointed to the 
 boat, without saying more. ' 
 
 "A rivederti," nastily muttered the gondolier 
 His friend «iueezed his hand in perfect ai^ty-r-for, 
 in truth, they were countrymen by birth, though 
 chance had trained the former on the canals — and, 
 at the next instant, Gino was arranging the cushions 
 for his master, having first aroused his subordinate 
 brother of the oar from a profound sleep. 
 
 CHAPTER IL 
 
 Hast ever swam in a gondolB at Venice 7 
 
 StuKsrtAxs. 
 
 When Don Camillo Monforte entered the gondo- 
 la, he did not take his seat in the pavilion. With an 
 arm leaning on the top of the canopy, and his cloak 
 thrown loosely over one shoulder, the young noble 
 stood, in a musing attitude, until his dexterous servi- 
 tors had extricated the boat from the little fleet 
 which crowded the quay, and had urged it into open 
 water. This duty performed, Gino touched his 
 scarlet cap, and looked at his master, as if to inquire 
 the direction in which they were to proceed. H« 
 was answered by a silent gesture, that indicated thrt 
 route of the great canal. 
 
 " Thou hast an ambition, Gino, to show thy skiii 
 in the regatta V Don Oamillo observed, when they 
 had made a little progress. "The motive merits 
 
24 THE BRAVO. 
 
 suecessk Thou wast speaking to a strai^F, when 
 f sununoned 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, e(»nmanded by a eerta&i 
 Stefano Aliiano, son of an ancient servant of Sant* 
 Agata. The bark is none of the vrorst for speedy 
 and it has some reputation for beauty. It aagbit ta 
 be of rkappy fe^une, t€>o, fccr the good oiratoi recoQ>, 
 mended it, .^pdi many a dievont prayer, tx) die Yikgin 
 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 dn iiidblged de|}endant 
 
 "La Bella Sorrentina! Have I not r^?ison to 
 know the bg.xl^t'* ' 
 
 "Nothing more true, Signore. Her padrone nas 
 relaitiecia at Beta^ Agata> as't b»ve toid j^w eot^el- 
 lenza, afnd his verael: has lain oa Khe heaoh, near the 
 castle, many a bleak winterk" 
 
 " What brings him to Veniee i" 
 
 " That is what- 1 would give my aewest jaek^ of 
 your ecceDenza's colors to knowv Signore. I have 
 as little wish to inquire into other peepte's aiBairs as 
 any one, and I very wel; know that discretion is the 
 cliief virtne of a gondolier. I ventured, however, 
 a deadly- bint concerning his errand, such as an- 
 cient mei^borhood \xo^ warrant, but he was as 
 cautious of his answers as if he were beighted 
 with the confessions of fifiry Christiaas. Now, if 
 voOT eeoeMenza should see fit to give me authoakyi: 
 te (pestion him, in your name^ the deuce ia in'ttfp 
 
THE BRAm- ^ 
 
 between respect for hig lord, and igood fnana^wfiD^ 
 we could not draw sometbing more )hm a XiaJ^e hii\ 
 qf lading from l\i[a." 
 
 « Thou wilt take iby cWpe »f niy.ig<^pla^ iiw 
 the regatta, Gino," observed the Jjuke lof ,Sae^ 
 Agata, entering the pavilion^ %nd throwing himself 
 on ijie ^oasy biOck le%liherjii oiyshiooBt withoitf adr 
 v©rting to ,the wgge^tiioo of hie e&rvanX. 
 
 The gcmdola. contu»u^ it« npigfele^s coujve, wink 
 iks ;spf i^.jib9 xoovBxaelQt .peculiar to tha^ ii««criptioiii 
 of ho^it iGi»«u wjjioi, A6 Riapefirj- over hi^ iWJotw, 
 ^tood perched on the Uttle a^ obea deck in ,thp stem, 
 jiu^i;^ )m oar with ^aiccuatoo^d readiness aqd skiil, 
 flow cait^ing the light vessel to jifheer Uf »the right, 
 <uid now 4o the left, as it glided ajnciiong ^e mitltitude 
 Af crafts, q{ laU .cazes and uses, which it iisciet ^n Ms 
 passage. P^Uce filter palace had been passed* iand 
 more than one -of the principle canals, which di- 
 verged towards the different spectacles, or the otbw 
 places of resort frequented by his master, were left 
 behind, without Don Camillo giving any new direc- 
 tion. At length the boat arrived opposite to a build- 
 Jog, which seemed to excite more than common exr 
 nectation. Giorgio worked his oaj with a aingW 
 nand, looking over his shoulder at Gino, and Gino 
 pefrrewttgd his blade fairly to trail on the wa-tex. Both 
 seemed to awa,it new orders, manifesting something 
 likp that awqies of instinctive sympathy with him 
 they served, which a long practised iicuise ip apt to 
 show when .he draws near a ,g|Ue, that is seldom 
 passpd unvisited by his driver. 
 
 Xbe ediiice which caused this betfita-tion in the 
 two gpedq^ersj was one of those resideiices of Ven- 
 ice), ,Wihich are quite as remarkable for their exter- 
 nal riches and ornaments^, as for their sii^ular «itu. 
 atipn amid the waters. A massive rustip batsement 
 qf marble was seated as isolidly in the element, s^ 
 if it gi-ew (from a Uving r^cjk, wMestwywas seepfir 
 C 
 
^6' THE BRAVO. 
 
 !ngly raised on story, in the wanton observance of 
 Aie most capricious rules of meretricious architeC' 
 lure, until the pile reached an altitude that is little 
 known, except in the dwellings of princes. Colon- 
 nades, medallions, and massiye 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, Ijut 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 passingcraft, 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 foand his sympathetic 
 delav 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 lioat 
 to a flight of steps. 
 
 " Thou wilt follow me," sa»d 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 ey;e 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 fle^t 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 
 )ne named Frontoni 1" 
 
 "His countenance, Signore!" 
 
 ** By what else would'st thou distinguish a man?" 
 
28 THE BRAVa 
 
 « A mpn, Signer' Don Camillo !" 
 
 "Art thou mocking thy master, Gino? I have 
 asked ihee i£ 1:1*00 art acq*Kiinted witt ihe parson 
 of a certain Jacopo Panontomi; a dwdler fliew! la 
 Venice?" 
 
 " Eccellenza, yes." 
 
 "< He I mean bus beea ktag vemaxked by ihe isnis- 
 fon-tuiDes of im <&inily, the &|jiar hemg now ;^in €xile 
 on the Didmatian <ci!)a8t, or «lsewherei." 
 
 ^' Ecceilensa, yes." 
 
 ^' Tfaeire are mmiy of the name «af .FiFaiatoBi, and 
 it is 3inpoi!tant that lho»i sbouiid':st mot mistate <the 
 mnn. Jaoopo, tcf dmt fanwly, is a j^oath of some 
 five-andrlwenty, of an active frame a»d melam^oJy 
 viKsage, wttH of ^ss vi vaotjr of temperament, ftfaan is 
 want, at his years." 
 
 ** Ec(|plienza, yes." 
 
 ■"One who Tesoorts rbmtflJttle with bis fellows, and 
 whiO is rather inoted for t^e silence .and utdustry 
 with which he attends to his concerns, than for any 
 of the>usuaJ pleasantries and trifling of men -of his 
 caslt. A <%ittain Jaoopo Fr ontoni, thait ihaitk his 
 aJbode somewhere near the larsenaH" 
 
 ^'•Oospetto)! S^or' Diiea, the man is as wdl 
 known Ito^HS ^gtmdnlieijs, as the brid^ of ihe Rialto j 
 Your eoceJkraza has no meed to trouble yaarself to 
 describe Mm." 
 
 Don Gamillo Monforte was searchSng among the 
 papers of a secretary. He raised his eyes in some 
 little -amazement, at the sally of his ^iependant, and 
 fclien he qnietlyiresumed his occmpatioH^ 
 
 " If thou knowest the man, it is enough." 
 
 ■"^JcceHenza, yes. And iwihat is your :pleasui« 
 with this accursed Jacopo ?" 
 
 The Duke mf Saa*' A^ta seemed ito recollect hkn 
 self. He replaced the papers which had beeade 
 ranged, and he closed ithe secretary. 
 
 "!SinQ,"iibe said, in a -toae tirf tionMenee and anri- 
 
■mE BRATO. 89 
 
 ty, *• thou Tvert bom on nay estates, though so long 
 trained here to the oar in Venice, and thou has." 
 passed thy life in my service." 
 
 " Ekeellenza, yes.'* 
 
 " It is jwy desire thait thou should'st end thy dlays 
 where they began. I have had much confidence in 
 (by diseretioor hitheno, and I have satisfaction in 
 saying it has never failed thee, notwithstanding thou 
 hast necessarily been* a witness of scufne exploits of 
 yoQthy which nt^ht have drawn embarrassmenl 
 on thy RKister, were thy tongue less disposed to si- 
 lence." 
 
 '^Ecceitenza, yes." 
 
 Don Camitlo smiled; but the gleam of bunaor 
 gave way to a look of grave and anxious thought. 
 
 "As thou knowest the person of him I have 
 named, our affair is sixnptft Take this packet," he 
 continued, jrfacing a sealed tetter 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 Dbge's pal- 
 ace, which leads to the canal of San Marco,T)eneath 
 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 efiectually 
 eonoealed it. 
 
 " At the arched passage of the palace, beneath 
 the Bridge of Sighs," he coolly added; "and let 
 C2 
 
30 THE BRAVO. 
 
 thy arrival there be timed, as near as may be, to the 
 firs*, 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 rehsh 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- 
 doHer, 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 clip^^ing 
 
THE BRAVO. St] 
 
 the wings of the Hon, or painting a better picture 
 than Tiziano di Vecelli ? I have a mortal dislike 
 even to pass the mere compliments of the day with 
 one of your cut-throats. Were any of our gondo- 
 liers to see me in discourse with the man, it might 
 exceed your eccellenza's influence to get me a place 
 in the regatta." 
 
 " If he detain thee, Gino, thou wilt wait his plea- 
 sure ; and if he dismiss thee at once, return hithei 
 with all expedition, that I may know the result." 
 
 « I very well know. Signer Don Camillo, that the 
 honor of a noble is more tender of reproach than 
 that of his followers, and that the stain upon the 
 silken robe of a senator is seen farther than the 
 spot upon a velvet jacket. If any one unworthy of 
 your eccellenza's notice has dared to oflend, here 
 are Giorgio and I, ready, at any time, to show how 
 deeply we can feel an indignity which touches oui 
 master's credit ; but a hireling of two, or ten, or 
 even of a hundred sequins!" 
 
 " I thank thee for the hint, Gino. Go thou and 
 sleep in thy gondola, and bid Giorgio come into my 
 cabinet" 
 
 "Signorei" 
 
 "Art thou resolute to do none of my biddings?" 
 
 " Is it your eccellenza's pleasure that I go to the 
 Bridge of Sighs by the footways of the streets, ot 
 by the canals?" 
 
 " There may be need of a gondola — ^thou wilt go 
 with the oar." 
 
 " A tumbler shall not have time to turn round be- 
 fore the answer of Jacopo shall be here." 
 
 With this sudden change of purpose, the gondo- 
 'ier quitted the room ; for the reluctance of Gino dis- 
 appeared the moment he found the confidential duty 
 assigned him by his master was likely to be per- 
 for led by another. Descending rapidly, by a se- 
 ■;r stairs, instead of entering the vestibule, where 
 
THE BRAVO. 
 
 ha]f-a>-(k>zea menials of different ertiployraiemts were 
 in waitings he passed by one of the narrow eorri- 
 dors of tl*e palace into an inner court, and thence 
 byt a low and unimportant gate into arn obscure 
 al^y, which, communicated with the nearest street 
 
 Though the age is ©■ne of so great actiTiftjr and 
 intelligence, and the Atlantic is no longer 'a bai-rier 
 even to the ordinary aniwasemerrts of Bfev a great 
 majprity ©f American* have never had am ©ppwrtH- 
 nity of personally examining the remairfcaWe feailltEes 
 ef a region, of which the town that Gino now 
 threaded with sa much diligence^ is .not the least 
 worthy of observation. Those who have beea so 
 fortunate as to have visited Italy, therefo-re, will ex- 
 cuse us if we make ai brief, but what we brieve 
 useful, (figressiOB, for the benefit of those who' have 
 .not had that advantage; 
 
 The city ©f Venice ^ands on a cluster of low, 
 sandy islands^ It is proi>able that thecountFy wbieh 
 lies nearest to the gulf, kf not the w-hok ©f the- im- 
 mense plain of LoTTibartty itself, is of allaviasl forma- 
 tion. Whatever may have beeto the origin of that 
 wide and fertile kingdom, the causes which have 
 given to the Lagunes their existence, and. t© Venice 
 i!t» u&it{ue and picturesque foundation, are too- appa- 
 rent to be mistaken. Several ^torrents, which, flow 
 froH* the valleys of the Alps, pour their tribttte into 
 the Adriatic at this point. Therf waters Come 
 chairged with the debris of the mountains, pulverized 
 nearly to their original elements. Released from 
 the violence of the stream, these particles have ne 
 cessarily beea deposited ia the galfj at the spot 
 where they have first becouafe 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, iimil some of the banks 
 have arisen above the surface, formir^ islands, 
 whose elevation has been gradually augmented by 
 
THE BRAVO. 33 
 
 Jje decay of vegetation. A glance at the map wiU 
 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 othej* rivers, 
 which equally flow frQm 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, ^very 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 rix^ers have necessai-ily cut a few 
 channels for their passage, or, what is now a lagune, 
 would long since have become a hike. Another 
 thousand years may so fai- change the character of 
 (his 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 tiie Lido di Palestrino. It has 
 been artificially connorted and secured, in many 
 
*1 THE ftUAVa 
 
 places, arid the wall of the Lido (Iiteralljr the beach), 
 though incompfete, like most of the great and vaunt 
 ed works of the other hemisphere, and moi-e par- 
 ticularly of Italy, ranks with the mole of Ancona, 
 and the sea-wall of Cherboofg. The hondred little 
 islands which now contain the ruins of what, dur- 
 ing the middle ages, was the mart of the Mediteri- 
 ranean, are gfouped' toother within cannon-shot 
 of the HtttUfal' 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 J)reserved, 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 
 mto the streams in our own country.. In many in- 
 stances, the islands themselves were no mor6 than 
 banks, which were periodically bare, and on all, 
 the use of piles has been necessary to. spppoft the 
 superincumbent loads of palaces, churches, and 
 public monuments, under which, in. the course of 
 ages, ihe humble spits of sand have been made t9 
 ^toan. 
 
 The great fretjuency of the canals, and perhaps 
 some attention to economy of labor, has given to 
 V far the greater part of "the buildings the facility 
 
THE BRAVO. 35 
 
 of an approach hy water. But, wnile nearly every 
 dwelling has one of its fronts on a canal, there are 
 always communications by the rear with the inte- 
 rior passages of the town. It is a fault in most de- 
 scriptions, that while the stranger hears so nruch 
 of the canals of Venice, but little is said of her 
 streets: still, narrow, paved, commodiotis, and 
 ooiseless passages, of this description, intersect all 
 the ii^ands, which communicate with each other by 
 means of a coanttesg number of bridges. Though 
 the hoof of a horse, or tlie rumbling of a wheel is 
 never heard in these strait avenues, thev are of 
 great resort for all the purposes of ordinary in- 
 tercourse. 
 
 Gino issued into one of these thoroughfares, when 
 he quitted the private passage which communicated 
 with the palace of his master. He threaded the 
 throng by which il was crowded, with a dexterity 
 that resembled the windings of an eel, among the 
 weeds of the Lagunes. To the numerous greetings 
 of his fellows, he replied only by nods ; nor did he 
 on^e arrest his footsteps, until thev had ted him 
 through the door of a low and dark dwelling, that 
 stood m a quarter of the place which was inhabited 
 by peojJte of an inferior condition. Groping his 
 way among casks, cordage, and rubbish of an de- 
 scriptions, the gondolier succeeded in finding an 
 inner and retired door, that opened into a small 
 room, whose only Kght came from a M)ecies of 
 well, that «tescended between the walls of the adja- 
 cent houses and that in which he was. 
 
 "Messed' St Aime? Is it Aon, Gino Monaldi!" 
 exclaimed a smart Venetian grisette, wnose tones 
 and manner betrayed as much of coquetry as of 
 surprise. " On foot, and by the secret door ; is this 
 an honr to c<Mne on any of thy errands?" 
 
 ** Trrfy, Annina, it is not the season for affairs 
 irith tiiy father, and it is something early for a viat 
 3 
 
36 THE BRAVO. 
 
 to thee. But there is less time foi 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 Svery 
 for the dress of a commop 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 
 lo vest me!" 
 
 Annina, who had not neglected essentials while 
 she morahzed 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 biit he may make a confidam 
 of a rival." 
 
 " Every word of it as true as if the devil him- 
 self had done .the office for me, girl," muttered Gino, 
 jHcasing himself from his flowery vestment, and as 
 
THE BRAVO. 87 
 
 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 C^millo Monforte in this dress i 
 Cospetto ! but I have half a tnind 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 
 oecome of thy matter of gravity the while, Gino. 
 and of thy haste to enter on its performance V 
 
 " 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 aU 
 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?" 
 
 "Diavolo! is there no boat in the canal?" 
 
 "Thou art in unwonted haste, Gino, now tiK»u 
 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 
 leaves of their book of doom ! Give me the key of 
 die outer door, girl, that I may go my way.'^ 
 
 " Not till I know whether this business is likely to 
 
 D 
 
38 THK BRAVO. 
 
 draw down (ipora my father the displeasure of the 
 senate. Thou knowest, €fino, that I am — " 
 
 " Diamine ! There goes the clock of San Marco 
 and 1 tarry past my hour. If I am too late, the 
 feult will rest with thee!" 
 
 " 'Twill not be the first of thy oversights, whicli 
 it has been my bosiness to excuse. Here fhou 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 Eke a jealous wife, instead of a 
 reasonable girl, Amiina. I have told thee that I am 
 on business of the last impo'rtanee, and that delay 
 may bring heavy calaraiities." 
 
 " On whom '( — What is thy business 7 Why art 
 thoti, whom in general it is necessary to warn from 
 this house by words many times repeated, now in 
 such a baste to leave it I" 
 
 "Have I not told thee^ girl, tis an errand of 
 great concern to six noble feunilies, and if I fail to 
 be in season, there roay be a strife — ay, between 
 the Florentine and the republic f 
 
 " Thou hast said nothing of the sort, nor do I 
 pt* &ith in thy being a» ambassador of San Marco. 
 Speak truth for «ice, Gino Monaldi, or lay aside 
 the mask and jacket, and take op tfiy flowers of 
 Sant' Agataw" 
 
 '■ 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 toBed 
 the quarters, which leaves me yet a moment for 
 confidence." 
 
 " Thou iookest at the waH, Ginoy and art con 
 suiting thy wits for some plausible lie f 
 
 " J look at the wall because conscience tells me 
 that too much weakness for thee is about to draw 
 me astray frooi! duty. What thou tafcest for deceit 
 IS only shame and modesty." 
 
'I'HK BRAVO 39 
 
 •Of that we shall judge, when the tale is lold." 
 
 "Then hsteu. Thou hnsi heartl of thf aflair 
 between my master aud the aiesre cf the Roman 
 Marchese, who was drowned in ihc Giixdeeca, by 
 the carelessness of an Anconar-numv. tvho> posseci 
 over the gondola af Pietro a» if his fi^cca had 
 been a galley of state I" 
 
 " Who has been tipon the Ddloy the iBooth past, 
 without hearing the tale repeated, with every varia- 
 tion of a gondoUer*! ar^erl" 
 
 " Well, the maitter is likely to come to a coficlu- 
 sion this nipht; my master ia about to do, as I fear 
 a very foolish thing!" 
 
 " He will be married?" 
 
 "Or worsen — ^^I am sent, in all haste and: secrecy 
 in seaichi of a priest." 
 
 Annina manifested strong interest in the fiction 
 ut the gondolier. Either from a dislriistfiii: temper- 
 ament,. Fong^ habit; or great fanailiarity with the 
 character of her conipajuon,. however, she did not 
 tisten to his explanation without bc&ra^ring some 
 doubts of its truth. 
 
 "This will be a sudden bridal, feast!" she said, 
 alter a moment of pause. — *"Ti» well that few are 
 invited, or its savor might be spoited by the Three 
 Hundred 1 To what convent art thoa sent I" 
 
 " My errand is not pai;tiieulaif. The first that may 
 be found, provided he be a> Franciscan, and a priest 
 likely t& have bowels for loveirs in haste." 
 
 " DOS' Camilla Monforter the heiir of am ancient 
 and g,reat line* does, not wive with so little cautioiu 
 Thy false tongue has been trying to deceive me, 
 Giao; but long use should have taiugfet thee the folly 
 of the ^ort. Unless tfa&u sayest trutk,. not only 
 shall thou not go to thy ectand^ but here art thou 
 prisoner at my pleasure." 
 
 " I may have told jhee what I expect will shortly 
 happen, rather than what has happetied. fiut Don 
 
40 THE BRAVO. 
 
 Catnillo keeps me so much upon the water of late, 
 that I do Httle beside dream, when not at the oar." 
 "It is vain to attempt deceiving me, Gino, fox 
 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 v/ould that thy father would make thei 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 
 lachrymae 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 isJhought to be 
 better than the first." 
 
 " If the wine improve in this manner, thv father 
 should be heavy-hearted at the sight of the lees! 
 'T would 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, likf 
 that of being sure of wine ^of the quality thoL 
 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 
 
TTIC BRAVO 41 
 
 die Calabrian. Tbon kiiawest my father hath 
 munb confidence in my judgment in (natters like 
 Ihis." 
 
 Wiiile Gino stood half stuptfied, and hail deHgbt- 
 ed at this proposition, the ready and tvily Annina 
 ■Aade some ^gbt chaise in her outer fpmaenta 
 placed ti silken mask bekne her faice, appbed a key 
 to the door, and beckoned to the gotid<met to ibSow 
 
 The canal, with which the dwelling of the wifie- 
 dealer eonxmunicatedy was narrow, gloomy, and 
 bftle frequented. A gondola of the pkimesH desenp- 
 tion was fastened uear, and the gir) entered it, with- 
 out appearing to think any further arrangtement ne- 
 tiessary^ The serramt of Don Camfllo hesitated a 
 ■ingle irastantr but having seen that his half-meditated 
 project of escaping by the use of anocher boat, 
 coidd not hi acconiplidned fat want of means, he 
 took his wonted place in the stenir and began to ply 
 the oar with mechfanical leaidinesfc 
 
 CHAPTER HL 
 
 What well-appointed, leader fronts us here t 
 
 King Henry VL- 
 
 The presence of Annina was a grave embarrass- 
 ment to Grno, He had his secret wishes and limited 
 ambition^ like other men« and aoKmg the strongest 
 of the former, iVas the desire to stami well in the 
 feiTor of the wine-seller's daughter. Btit the artful 
 girl, in catering to his palate with a liquor that was 
 9cai-(;ely les» celebrated among peopfe of his class 
 fcr itsr strength than its flavor, ha^ caused a mo- 
 Tientary confusion in the brain of Gino, that re- 
 quired time to disperse. The boat was in the grand 
 canal, and far on its wav to the place of its dcstina- 
 t)2 
 
42 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 
 sufliciently high to cast its soft fight 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 I jdo 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 
 tal). 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- 
 pubUc, girl, when it first permitted the stranger to 
 come into the waters of the Adriatic !" 
 
 « Is it certain, Gino, that the arm of St Maru 
 was strong enough to keep him out?" 
 
THE BRAVO 4.1 
 
 " Body of Diana! I would rather thou didst not 
 ask that question in a place where so mai y gondo- 
 las are in motion ! Here are Ragusan, Maltese, Sici- 
 lians, and Tuscans, without number; and a little 
 fleet of French lie near each other, there, at the en- 
 trance of the Giudecca. They are a people who 
 get together, afloat or ashore, for the benefit of the 
 loiigue Here we are, at the end of our journey." 
 
 The oar of Gino gave a backward sweep, and 
 the gondola was at rest, by the side of a felucca. 
 
 " A happy night to the Bella Sorrentina and her 
 worthy padrone !" was the greeting of the gondo- 
 lier, as he put his foot on the deck of the vessel 
 " Is the honest Stefano Milano on board the swift 
 felucca?" 
 
 The Calabrian was not slow to answer ; and in a- 
 few moments the padrone and his two visitors were 
 in close and secret conference. 
 
 " I have brought one, here, who wib be likely to 
 put good Venetian sequins into thy pocket, caro," 
 observed the gondolier, when the prehminaries of 
 discourse had been properly observed. " She is the 
 daughter of a most conscientious wine-dealer, who 
 is quite as ready at transplanting your Sicilian 
 grapes into the islands, as he is ViUuig and able to 
 pay for them." 
 
 " And one, no doubt, as handsome as she is 
 ready," said the mariner, with blunt gallantry, 
 " were the black cloud but fairly driven from ijefore 
 her face." 
 
 " A mask is of Uttle c nsequence in a bargam, 
 provided the money be forthcoming. We are al- 
 ways in the Carnival at Venice; and he who 
 would buy, or he who would sell, has the same 
 right to hide his face as to hide his thoughts. What 
 hast thou in the way of forbidden liquors, Stefano, 
 that my companion may not lose the night in idle 
 words?" 
 
(4 THE BHAVO 
 
 " Per Diana T Master Cfinoi thow pattest thy ques 
 Mons with little cewsnntony. The hcM of the felucca 
 is eHrpty-j as thoti mayest sec by stepping to the 
 hatches; and as for anyhqttor, we are periSiiHg foi 
 a drop to warm the blood." 
 
 « And so far from coming to- seek it here," said 
 Annina, « WB shodd have done better to have gone 
 into the carthedral, and saii an Ave, for thy safe 
 voyage home. And now that our wit is spent, we 
 will quft thee, friend Stefano, for some other less 
 skilful in answers." 
 
 " Cospetto ! thoa 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 fefcieca, on bis^own 
 acconnt One pwcbase of him would settle the 
 question between the quality of thy father's wines 
 and those of Battjsta. There is not a gondoEer in 
 Venice but wiU resort to thy rfiop^ if the intereorarse 
 with this fellow can be fair]^ settled-" 
 
 Annina hesitated ; long practised in the smaH, but 
 secret, and exceedingly hazardous commerfce, 
 which her father, notwithgta.nding 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. Thai 
 Gino trifled vnth 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 zeaJ for her 
 personal welfare too weB, to distrust his faith in a 
 inatter that concerned her own safety. 
 
 " If thou distrust that any here are the spies of 
 tne aothorities," she observed to the padrone, whh a 
 manner that readily betrayed her wishes, " it wiH he 
 in Gino's power to undeceive thee. — Thou wiJt testi 
 
TUG IBRAW). 4A 
 
 flf, Gino, that I atm not to be suspepted lOf teeacborj' 
 ill an affair like this." 
 
 " Leave me to put a word into the {private ear of 
 the Caiafaran,* said iflie gondolier, sigEbificantly. — 
 ■• Stefawft Milano, if ihou Jove JHie," he contiaued, 
 when dihejr were a tittle apart, ^lieep the girl in 
 parley, and treat with Jier, iairly, for thy adven 
 ture." 
 
 "Shall I aeU the vratage «f Don Camitio, «r thai 
 of the Vdoerojr of -Siisily, caxo 1 TUiere is as nMich 
 tmte -of each >ori ib«iard the BeUa Sonventina, a« 
 wcniJd float the flaeit of stbe vepuhlic." 
 
 " If, in truth, thou art dry, jJiea fe^ <that .tjaou 
 lha«t it, and di^r in thy <pince& EiBtertiun tier, but 
 a 'minute, with fiuir ■awiorda, while I can get, iHiseejii, 
 4nto ray gondola ; and then, for the sal^ of an «ild 
 and tried^friend, put her tenderfy on the quay, in the 
 best manner thou art able." 
 
 " I begin to see into the nature of the trade," re- 
 turned the pliaiDst padrone, placing a fipger on the 
 side of his nose. " I ■will discourse the woman by 
 ithe hoMT, about the flavor of the .Ikpor, or if thou 
 wilt, of her own beauty ; but to squeeze a drop of 
 anything better tihan Xne water f the Lagunes out 
 of the ribs 'of the felucca, would be a miracle wor- 
 thy of San Tfeffldwro." 
 
 " There is iiit little meed to touch on aught but 
 the quality »f thy wine. The girl is not Jike most ai 
 her seat, and she takes sudden offence when there is 
 question of her appearance. Indeed, the mask sh<? 
 wears is as nmcb to hide a face that :has litlJe to 
 'jempt the eye, as from any wish at ooBcealmeat." 
 
 " Sb'noe •Qino has entered frankly, into liie icuatter," 
 resumed *be quiok^witted Calabrian, eheerfuUy, and 
 with an air of suddsn confidence, to the ■expectant 
 A.nnina, " I fcegin to see more probability oif our un- 
 derstanding eacth other's meaning, ^tgn^ nella 
 idonna, to go into my poor cabin. wlKwe we will 
 
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 sen 
 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 o'ffice 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, incHning, 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 uppei 
 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 Sigh's. 
 
 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 tills characteristic fastening. When this little 
 
 f)recaution was observed, the gondolier passed up 
 i^htly beneath the massive arch of the water-gate 
 of the palace, and entered its large but gloomy 
 court. ^ 
 
 At that hour, and witn 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 foi the element to 
 filter into its basin, in order to fill her buckets, while 
 her ear listened in dull attention to the hum of the 
 moving crowd without. A halberdier paced the 
 open gallery at the head of the Giant's Stairs, and, 
 here and there, the footfall of other sentinels might 
 be heard among the hollow and ponderous arches 
 of the long corridors. No light was shed from the 
 windows ; but the entire building presented a fit em- 
 blem of that mysterious power which was known 
 to preside over the fortunes of Venice and her citi- 
 zens. 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 
 to gaze at the melancholy and imposing air of the 
 dreaded palace, before they vanished in the throng 
 which trifled 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 escapmg 
 altogether from the interview, he ventured to furnish 
 
48 THE BRAVO. 
 
 audible evidence of Jiis presence by a loud licm. 
 At that instaat » £gure gliaed into iJie court trono 
 the side of the quaj, and walked swiftly towards its 
 centre. The heart of Gino beat violeptlyi t^ut he 
 njustered resdu<ion to meet the stranger. - As they 
 drew near each other, it .became evident, by the light 
 of the moon, which pejrietrated even to that gloomy 
 spot, that .the latter was ^Iso masked. 
 
 " San Teodoro and San Marco liave yoji in 
 mijod !" commenced the gopdoliec. " Jf I raistale 
 not, you are tlie man I am sent to ro^et" 
 
 The stranger parted, and first manifesting an in- 
 tention to pass on quickly^ he suddealy arrested the 
 movement .to reply. 
 
 " This may be so, or not Unmask, that I may 
 judge by thy couatenance if wliat fhou saye^t /be 
 true." 
 
 " By jour good ^eave, jBost worthy ajjd honor- 
 able Signore, a^d if it he equally agreeable to jog 
 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 tbee. wert thou naked 
 as at thy birth. Unless certeyn of thy character, in 
 wliat manner may I confide ,in thy honepty ?" 
 
 " I have no distrust of the virtues of an undis- 
 guised iace, .Signore, and therefore do 1 inv,ite yoq, 
 yoursel£ to exhibit what nature has done for you in 
 the way of features, that 1, who am to make the 
 confidence, be sure it be to the right person." 
 
 " This is well, and gi-ves assurance of thy pru 
 dence- 1 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 nigh 
 to thee." 
 
 ■'Cospetto! — Signore, you are far too quick in 
 vour ideas and movements for one little used .to jie- 
 gotiations of this sort. Here is a ring whose .signej 
 may help us to understand each other." 
 
THE BUAVO. fi^ 
 
 The «tiranger took the jew«l, and , hewing the 
 Btone in a manner to receive th^ jjtght oj[ the ^nooa^ 
 be started in a manner to betray J^pth fpiprise and 
 pleasure- 
 
 *' This is the falcon crest of the NeapoHtaiiT^b^ 
 that is the Jord of Saot' Agata !" 
 
 "Add o{ many other fiefs, good ^ignor^, to say 
 Wffiw^ fOf the honors be <:;laims ip Y^ic?. Am I 
 right in supposing my errand with you?" 
 
 " Thou njist found" oiiw whose present hu^ines? 
 hag <iVQ olher object than >Don C^fnillo Monfort& 
 But 1(hy erraind was not solely to exhibit the signet?" 
 
 "So ;li'ttle so, that I h^v^ a p*cket hei:? which 
 waits only for a certainty of the person with whoiji 
 I speak, to be placed into his hands." 
 
 The stranger mused a moment; then glfincing ^ 
 look about him, he ansvyered hurripdly^' 
 
 ■*• This is no place to unmask, friend, even though 
 we only wear our disguises in pleasantry. Tar^y 
 here, and at my return I will conduct thee tg a more 
 fitting spot." 
 
 The words were scarcely uttered when Qino 
 found himself stainding in the middle of the court 
 Sklone. 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- 
 a:ce, ,aind which, from the heads of the animal being 
 carjjed in relief around them, had become famous 
 as the rece^ptaoles of secret accusations, under the 
 name ,of ;the t,ion's Mouths. Something he dropped 
 into the grinning aperture of the marble, though 
 whatj 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 <H 
 massive steps. 
 
 E 
 
50 THE BRAVO. 
 
 Gino had retired towards the arch of the water 
 gate, in expectation that the stranger would rejoin 
 nim 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. MaiK. 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 gohdoUer 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 suificiently 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 vrithout 
 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 podesta about such a 
 trifle." 
 
 " Then name it not, lest he hear thee." The an- 
 swer proved, like all the others, unsatisfactory and 
 bootless. 
 
 Gino now ceased to question any ; but he thread- . 
 
THE BRAVO. 61 
 
 ed the thi ong 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 sBght jerk at the elbow of his 
 jackSt 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!" 
 
 "Corpodi 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 .onger 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 
 4 
 
52 THE BRAVO. 
 
 the advances of females less disguised thaa the pre- 
 tended contadina, until he gained a. space Bear the 
 quays, vyhere there was more room for observation. 
 Here he paused, undetermined whethex to return and 
 confess Bis indiscretion to bis master, or whether he 
 should mains still another effort to reigain the ring 
 which had been so .sillily lost. The vEicant space 
 between the two granite columns was left to the 
 quiet possession of himself and one other, who stood 
 uear the .base pf that which sustained tl^ Lion of 
 St. Mark, as motionless as if he top were merdy a 
 form of stone. Two or three stragglers, either led 
 by idle icuriosity, or expecting to meet one appoint- 
 ed to await their coming, drew near this immova- 
 ble man, but all glided away, as if there were re- 
 pulsion in his marble-like countenance. Gjno had 
 witnessed several instances of this evident dislike to 
 remain near the unknown figure, ere he felt induced 
 to cross the space between them in order to inqiire 
 into its cause. A slow movement, at the sound of 
 his footsteps, broug-ht the rays of the moon full 
 upon the calm countenance and searching .eye of 
 the very man he sought. 
 
 The first impulse of the gondolier, like that of all 
 the others he had seen approach the spot, was to 
 retreat ; but the recollection of his errand and his 
 loss came in season to prevent such an exhibition 
 of his disgust and alarm. Still he did not speaJc; 
 but he met the riveted gaze of the Bravo with a 
 look that denoted, equally, confusion of intellect and 
 a half-settled purpose. 
 
 "Would'st thou aught with me?" demanded Ja- 
 copo, when the gaze of each had continued beyond 
 the term of accidental glances. 
 
 " My master's signet?" 
 
 " I £now thee not." 
 
 « That image of San Teodoro could testify; that 
 this is holy truth, if it would but speak ! I have not 
 
riiK nriAvo. 53 
 
 the honor of your friendship, Signor Jacopo i but 
 one may have affairs even with a stranger. If you 
 met a peaceable and innocent gondolier, in the 
 court 6i 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 ohe 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 dteaKhg need 
 not hide the features which Nature has given them." 
 
 " You speak nothing but truths, Signor Frontoni, 
 which is Irttle 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 eqaally agreeable to 
 you." 
 
 " Do as thou wilt ; but I pray thee to give me the 
 same permission." 
 
 " There are few so bold as to dispute thy plea- 
 sure, Signore," 
 
 " It is, to be alone." 
 
 "Cospetto! There fs not a man in Venice whj 
 would more gladly consult it, if my master's errand 
 were fairfy 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 ol 
 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." 
 
54 THE BRAVO. 
 
 " There are few within the dominions of S?t. Mark 
 of better lineage, or of fairer hopes, than the Duke 
 of Sant' Agata.' 
 
 The cold expression of the Bravo's countenance 
 changed. 
 
 "If thou comest from Don Camillo Monforte, 
 why dost thou hesitate to proclaim it 1 — ^Where are 
 nis requests]" 
 
 « I know not whether it is his pleasure, or th*t of 
 another j which this paper contains, but such as it 
 is. Signer Jacopo, my duty commands me to dehver 
 it to thee." 
 
 The packet was received calmly, though the or- 
 gan which glanced at its seal and its superscription, 
 gleamed with an expression which the cre4ulous 
 gondolier fancied to resemble that of the tiger at 
 the sight of blood. 
 
 "Thou said'st something of a ring. Dost thou 
 bear thy master's signet T I am much accustomed 
 to see pledges, ere I give faith." 
 
 " Blessed San Teodoro grant that I did ! Were 
 it as heavy as a skin of wine, I would willingly 
 bear the load ; but one that I mistook for you, Mas- 
 ter Jacopo, has it on his own light finger, I fear." 
 
 " This is an affair that thou wilt settle with thy 
 master," returned the Bravo, coldly, again examin- 
 ing the impression of the seal. 
 
 " If you are acquainted with the writing of my 
 master," hurriedly remarked Gino, who trenjbled 
 for the fate of the packet, "you will see his skill in 
 the turn of those letters. There are few nobles in 
 Venice, or indeed in the Sicilies, who have a more 
 scholarly hand, with a quill, than Don Camillo Mon- 
 forte; I could not do the thing half so well myself" 
 
 "I am no clerk," observed the Bravo, without 
 betraying shame at tKe confession. " The art of 
 deciphering a scroll, like this, was never taught me. 
 
THE BRAVO. 6A 
 
 If thou art so expert in the skill of a penman, tell 
 me the name the packet bears." 
 
 •*T would 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 Ught 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." 
 
 " Just San Marco ! who can tell what ear is open 
 or what ear is shut in Venice 1 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 
 for my 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 
 
56 THE BRAVO. 
 
 to aMrifesS an epistle att sUch a:i!i 6ccasion, he fol 
 lowed. 
 
 " I V6«<fcr,- Sigfto* Jscopo, that a man of youi 
 Sagacky has rto/i remembered that a packet to be 
 delivered to Mmself, shoald bear his oWfl name." 
 
 The firavo to6fe the pa'^tei', and heid the super 
 scflfiioii again to the figl^rt. 
 
 "That is not so. Though unlearned, necessity 
 has taught me to know when' I am meatlt.'^ 
 
 " Diamine! That is jiisi my own case, &gn6re. 
 Were the fettei^ f&f me, how, the old ^hodld not 
 know its young, qnic^ker than I would Come at the 
 itmhJ' 
 
 " I'heW thou canst not rfead ?" 
 
 " I never pretended to the art. The httle said 
 Wag merely ab6ut Writing. tMsittlmg, as you well 
 understand. Master JacopO, fs divided into feading, 
 Writing, iiM figures ; .and a man ftiay weD tindeT- 
 stand one, without, knowing t word of the' others. 
 It is not sthsoluteiy hedessary to be a bishop to have 
 & shaved hfead, 6^ a Jew to Wear ct bea:rd.'' 
 
 "ThoD woilJd'st have done bettef to h^^e said 
 this at once ; go, I will think of the mattet." 
 
 Gino gladly turned kWay, btft he had not left the 
 othet irjatfy pate^,- before hfe sa:w a female foirn 
 gliding behind the pedestal of one of the gi'anite 
 columns- Moving Swifily in a direction' to' Uncover 
 this seeming spy, he saw at oiice that Annina hdd 
 been a Witness Of his interview with the Bravo. 
 
THE BRAVa 57 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 'Twill make me think 
 The world is full of rubs, and that my ibHune 
 Run« 'gainat the bias. 
 
 Richard the Second. 
 
 Tbough Venice at that hour was so gay in he. 
 sijuares, the rest of th6 town was silent as the grave 
 A city in which the hoof of horse or the tolling of 
 wheels is never heard, necessarily possesses a char- 
 acter of its own ; but the oeculiar form of the gov- 
 ernment, and the long training of the people in habits 
 of caution, weighed on the spirits of the gay. There 
 wore 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 
 rf the first class. 
 
 A heavy magnificence pervaded the style of the 
 
^ THE BRAVO 
 
 dwelling. The vestibule was vast, vaulted, am\ 
 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 krtown the pencils of Titian, Paul Vero- 
 nese, and Tintoretto — the three great nanles in 
 which the subjects of St. Mark so justl)- prided 
 themselves. Among these works of the higher 
 masters were mingled others by the pencils of Bel- 
 linoi 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 hnd 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 ususll, 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 
 m the manner described, all lighted by shaded lamps 
 that spread a soft and gentle glow around; Pass- 
 ing, without notice, ranges of reception and sleeps- 
 jpg rooms— the latter of a magnificence to mock 
 the of4ifi^ry wq.nts of the body— we shall at once 
 
THE BRAVO. 5iJ 
 
 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 
 gener&l character, (^scovered 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 sleep, 
 and the pictures were delicate copies by the pencil 
 of some yotithful amateur, whose leisure had been 
 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- 
 en; region, she would scarcely have been deemed 
 ()ast tne period of childhood, though, in her native 
 and, 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 exceUent 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 Tm; BRAVO. 
 
 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 naive observation of his ingenuous pupiL 
 
 " Thou wfilt learn, my child," he answered, " as 
 time heaps wisdom on thy head, that it is in con- 
 cerns which touch oui 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 wiE 
 assure thee of this truth, or I greatly mistake the 
 etxcellence of that mind, which hath, hitherto, led 
 her so far blameless, in this erring pilgrimage to 
 which we are aU 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 nis 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 Hve for ever, as she is now, happy in 
 her youth, and contented with the privacy which 
 becomes her sex?" 
 
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 tiie 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 
 eartnly laws, and more than duty, reverence teaches 
 us not to repine at the will of Providence. But 1 
 do not see the weight of this grievance, against 
 which thou murmurest, daughter. Thou art youth- 
 ful, wealthy beyond the indulgence of all 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-' 
 F 
 
pied with more weighty affairs, as to forget her 
 birth and years, and haply her weahh ? " 
 
 "There would be little merit in being content 
 with a world fashioned after our own caprices, 
 though it may be questioned if we should be hap- 
 pier, by having all' things as we desire, than by 
 b<?!ng compelled to submit to them as they are. 
 The interest taken by the republic in thy particular 
 welfare, daughter, is the price thou payest for the 
 ease and magdiicence with which thou art encir- 
 cled* One more obscure, and less endowed by for- 
 tune, might nave greater freedom of will, but it 
 would be accompanied by none of the pomp which 
 adorns the dwelling of thy fathers." 
 
 " I would there were less of luxury and more of 
 liberty within its walls." 
 
 "Time will enaWe thee to see differently. At 
 thy age all is viewed in colors of gold, or life is 
 rendered bootless^ bebause we are thwarted in our 
 ill-digested wishes. I deny not, however, that thy 
 fortune is tempered by some peculiar passages. 
 Venice is ruled by a policy that is often calculating, 
 and haply some deem it reihorseless." Though the 
 voice of the Carmelite had fallen, he paused and 
 glanced an uneasy look from beneath his cowl, ere 
 he continued. " The caution of the senate teafehes 
 it to preclude, as far as in it lies, the union Of inter- 
 ests, that may not only oppose each other, but which 
 may endanger those of the state. Thus, as i have 
 said, none of senatorial rank may hold lands with- 
 out the limits of the republic, nor may any of ac- 
 count CL nnect themselves, by the ties of marriage, 
 with strangers of dangerous influence, without the 
 consent and supervision of the republic. The latter 
 is thy situation, for of the several foreign lords who 
 seek thy hatid, the council see none to whom the 
 favor may be extended, without the appreltension 
 of creating an influence here, in the centre of the 
 
Tilt; bravo. 03 
 
 -otutala^ which oright not to be gi%-en lo a slTaffaer. 
 Don CamiHo Monforte. the ravjilier to whofi) f^ou 
 art indebted for thy life, and iff whom thou hast so 
 lately spoken with gratitude, has far more cause to 
 complain of these hard decrees, than thou mayfest 
 have, in any feason/' 
 
 "'iVould make my griefs Mill heavier, did 1 
 know that one who has sha^n so much courage In 
 my behalf, has equal reason to feel their justice," 
 returned Violetta, qaidldyv " What is the affair that, 
 so fottunately for m«» hath hronght the Lord of 
 Sant' Agata to Vetiice^ if a grateful giri moy, with- 
 out indiscreltion, inquire V 
 
 " Thy interest in his behalf i« both natural and 
 commendable/' SnsWered the Carmelite, with a sim 
 plicity which did more credit to his cowl than tfi 
 his ob*ervationi " He is youhg, and, doubtless, he 
 is tempted by the gifts of fortune^ and the passions 
 of his Jrears» to divftrs acts of vtreaknoss. 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 geiicFal notoriety, and I can 
 ascribe thy ighorance 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 FJorinda. 
 
 " But if I am to remember him in my prayers, 
 li'ather, it tnight enlighten my petition to know in 
 what the young noble is most wanting4" 
 
 « I would have thee remember his spiritual nenes- 
 silies onJVi He wantBth, of a truths little in tempo- 
 ralities thai the world can offer, though ihe desii-es 
 of life often lead him Wh& hath most in t]uest of 
 more. It would seem that an ancestor of Don 
 OumiUo was anciently a senator of Venice, when 
 (be death of a relation brought many Gaie^t-ian 
 
64 THE BHAVO. 
 
 signories into his possession. The yoiihger 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 1 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 gloribus 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 thalj 
 while the evil we commit as individuals is visited on 
 »ur 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. 66 
 
 never feed itself on a delu^on more fatal than tliis! 
 The crime which imivolives others in Hs giiik^or con- 
 sequences, is doubly a crime, and though it be a 
 property of sin to entail its own ptmishmenl, even 
 in our present life^ he trusts to a vain hope who 
 tiiinks the magnitude of the offence will ever be'ils 
 ftpology. The chief security of our nature is lo re- 
 move it beyond temptation, and he is safest irom 
 the allurements of tm world, who is farthest re- 
 jnoved from its vices. Though 1 would wish justice 
 done to the noble Neapolitan, it may be for his ever- 
 IiQ sting peace, that the additional wealth he seeks 
 should be withheld." 
 
 " i am unwilling to believe, Father, that a cava- 
 lier, who has shofwn himself so ready to assist the 
 distressed^ will easily abuse the gifts of fortune." 
 
 The Cflirmelit© fastened an uneasy look on the 
 bright features of the young Venetian- Parental 
 soKoitode and prophetic foresight were in his glance. 
 but the expression was reheved 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 
 feeHng* for it is akin to the holy obligation of man 
 lo his Creator." 
 
 "Is it enough to feel grateful?" demanded Vio- 
 letta. " One of my name and alliances might do 
 more. We can move the patricians of my family, 
 in behalf of the stranger, that his protracted suit 
 way come to a more speedy end." 
 
 " Daughter, beware ; the intercession of one in 
 whom St, Mark feels so lively an interest, may raise 
 op enemies to Don Caroillo, instead of friends." 
 
 Donna ViolettJt was silent, while the monk and 
 Donna Florinda both regarded her with affectionate 
 eoncern. The former then adjusted his cowl, ana 
 prepared to depart. The noble maiden ajpproached 
 the CaMietite, and looking into his face with ingenu- 
 F2 
 
66 THE BRAVO. 
 
 ous confidence, and habitual reverence, she besoushl 
 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 
 bftsy, to fall into her lap, and she sat in meek silende. 
 while the Carmelite raised his open palms towards 
 her bended head. His lips moved, but the word:, 
 of benediction were inaudible. Had the ardetat 
 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, out smothered sympathy, 
 which so often betrayed itself, in the silent inteffi- 
 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 themselves, has need of every friend in whom 
 she can confide." 
 
 " Blessed be thy intercessor," said the monk, "and 
 the peace of the innocent be with thee." 
 
 Once more he waved his hand, and, turning, he 
 slowly quitted the room. The eye of Donna 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 
 
ril£ BRAVO. 0) 
 
 panion, whuse glance was unavoidably attrai^ted to 
 the movement. 
 
 " The water was never more quiet But thou 
 hearest those strains of the hautboys 1" 
 
 "Are they so rare on the canals, that they drive 
 ihee from the balcony 1" 
 
 " There are cavaliers beneath the windows of the 
 Mentoni palace; doubtless, they compliment our 
 friend, Olivia." 
 
 " Even that gallantly! is common. Thou know- 
 esl 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 vnsh 
 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 nea r the Rialto : 
 Uiese are sounds I love ! Sweet in themselves, they 
 do no violence to our sacred feelings. Art thou for 
 the water to-night, my Florindal" 
 
 " Whither would'st thou?" 
 
 " I know not — but the evening is brilliant, and ] 
 pine to mingle with the splendor and pleasure with 
 out." 
 
 " While thousands on the canals pine to mingle 
 with the splendor and pleasure within ! — Thus is it 
 5 
 
08 ITIE BHAVO. 
 
 ever with life s that vSivich is pesSiSssed' is little valiied 
 and that which we have not is without price." 
 
 " 1 owe my duty to my gaardian," said Violetta 
 " we will row to his palace." 
 
 Theagh Donna Florinda had uttered so grave a 
 moral, she spoke without severity. Casting aside 
 her work, she prepared to gratify the desire of her 
 change. It was the usual hour far th6 high in rank 
 and the secluded to go abroad ; and neither Venice, 
 with its gay throngs, nor Italy, with its soft' dimate, 
 ever offered greater temptation to seek the open air. 
 
 The groom of the chambers was called, tne gon 
 doliers were summoned, and the ladies, cloaking and 
 taking their masks, were quickly in the boat 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 If your master 
 Wonld have a queen his beggar, yea must tell 'lim 
 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 lis external decorations showed it to be 
 
THE BRAVO. 
 
 toe habitalion ot one of high importance. Withm, 
 the noiseless ^eps and the air of silent distrust 
 among the domestics, added to the gloomy grandeur 
 of the apartments, rendered the dbode no bad type 
 of the jrepubUc itsel£ 
 
 As neither of his present visitors was a stranger 
 beneath die roof of the Signor Crraxlenigo-^or so 
 the proprietor of the palace was caUed — they as- 
 cended its massive stairs, widiout pausing to cou' 
 sider any of ithose novelties of coostruetioa that 
 would attract the eye oi one unaccustomed to such 
 a dweUing. The rank and the known consequence 
 of the Donna Violetta assured her of a ready re- 
 ceptioa ; and while she was usheoed to the suite of 
 rooms above, by a crowd of loowdBg imenia>ls,. one 
 had gone, with beocnming 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, v^ith a zeal that did credit to his 
 fitness for the trust he filled. The countenance of 
 the old patridan — a face in which thought and care 
 had dtnawn as many lines as tira© — ^lighied with un- 
 equivocal satisiaeition as he pressed forwsard to re- 
 ceive his beautiful ward. To her haJf-uttered apolo- 
 gies for the intrusion, he would not listen ; but as he 
 led ^her within, he galkinMy professed his pleasure at 
 being honored with her visits even. at moments thai, 
 to iher -scrupulous ^a/aasai^i naight atppear the most 
 ill-timed. 
 
 " Thou canst never come iatni8s,rehildas thou art 
 of imy ancient friend, sctid the aspeeial caTe of the 
 state!" he added. " The gates , of ithe ^nadeaigo 
 palace would opemof thei[QseivQS,iat the latest period 
 of (the night, to ireceive sudh a guest. Besides 
 
"70 THE BRAVO. 
 
 the hour is most suited to the convenience of one of 
 thy quahty who would breathe the fresh evening air 
 on the canals. Were I to Umit thee to hours and 
 minutes, some truant wish of the moment — soma 
 mnocent caprice of thy sex and years, miglU 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, 
 ouce 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 
 
THE 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 
 liiemselves with the cares of the less fortunate, they 
 not only discharge a dnty, but they cultivate a 
 wholesome and useful state of mind ?" 
 
 " Doubt it not. Nothfng 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 
 rfome one of thy household may have thoughtlessly 
 enlisted for the wars '(" 
 
 " 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 honoi; 
 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 BRAV®. 
 
 but still is she better^ as she is, indxdent, and, I fear, 
 pampered by thy liberalitv. Thy private pmse a 
 drained by demands on tliy charity ; — or, perhaps;, 
 the waywardness of a female taste hath cost thee 
 dear, of late?" 
 
 ^' j>Jeither.— I ihave little need of gold, for one of 
 my years cannot properly maintain the magnificence 
 of her eondition. I come, guardian, with a far 
 graver solicitation than any ©f these.'" 
 
 " I hope none, in thy favor, have been indiscreet 
 of speewi I" exclaimed the Signer Gradenigo, east- 
 ing a shasty and sraspicious look at Ms ward. 
 
 ■" If any have been so thoughtless, let them ahide 
 the punishment of their faidt" 
 
 *•! commend 14^ jrasdee. In this age of novel 
 opinions-, innovations of all deseriptions cannot be 
 too sererely cheeked. Were the senate to shut its 
 ears to all the wild Aeories that are uttered by the 
 urathinking and vain, their laingtiage would soon pen- 
 etrate to the ill-regulat«d minds of the ignorant and 
 idle. Ask me, if thou wilt, for purses in scores, but 
 do not move me to forgetfulness of the gtailt oi the 
 disturber of the public peace!" 
 
 •" Not a sequin.' — My errand is of nobler quality." 
 
 " Spealk without riddle, that I may know its ob- 
 ject." 
 
 Now that nothing stood between her wish to 
 speak, and her own manner of inaking 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- 
 ♦ifflctive feelings. Violetta struggled with her diffi- 
 
THE BKAVO. 73 
 
 denc6, and then laughing at her own want of ' self- 
 possossion, she continued — 
 
 " Y ou iinow, Signor Gradenigo," she said, \*i.h -i 
 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 
 Ji line, eminent for centuries, in. the state of Venice." 
 
 " So sayeth our history." 
 
 " That I bear a name long known, and which it 
 Itecomes 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 gifled 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 Thiepplo." 
 
 " 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." 
 . r". Though unprepared for thii request," mildly re- 
 plied the companion, " I think she; speaks of the boon 
 of life." 
 
 ; The Signor Gradenig'o's countenance assumed a 
 dark expression. 
 
 "I understand you," he said, coldly. "It is true 
 that the Neapolitan was ready to irescue thee, when 
 the calamity befell thy uncle of Florence, but Don 
 Oamillo Monforte is not a common 4iver of the 
 Lido, to be rewarded hke him who finds a bauble 
 dropped from a gondola. Thou hast thanked the 
 cavaher; I trust that a noble maiden can do no 
 more,- in a case like this." 
 
 : " That 1 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 ! " 
 
 Ct 
 
14 THE BRAVO. 
 
 , wl doubt, Signora Florinda, that yoar charge 
 hath spent more hours among the light works ol 
 her late father's library, and tess time with her 
 minal, thaq becoipaes her both 1''^ 
 
 The eye of Yioletta kindled, and she folded an 
 arm ar odad the form of her shrinking companion, 
 who drew down her veil at this r^eof, though she 
 forbore to answer. 
 
 <' Signov Gradenigo*" said the youag heiress, " 1 
 may mve done discredit to i»y instructors, but il 
 the pupil has been idle, the fault ^ould not be visited 
 on me maocent. It is some evidence that the com- 
 mands of holy' <^urch have not been neglected, that 
 I now come to entreat favor in behall of one, to 
 whom I owe my Hfe. Don Camitto Mc^fbrte has 
 oag pursued, without success, a claim so just, that 
 were there no other motive ta concede it, the char- 
 acter of Yenics-shotdd teach the senators the dan- 
 ger of delay." 
 
 <' My ward has Hpeetl her leisure with the doctors 
 of Padua I; The republic hath its taws> and none 
 who have f i§^t of their side appeal to them in vain. 
 Thy gratitude i^ not to be censured;, it is rathet 
 worthy of thy origin and hopes ; still. Donna Vio- 
 letta, we should Ferasmbor how difficult it is to win- 
 now the truth from the chaff of imposition and legal 
 subtlety, and, most of all, should a juc^e be certain, 
 before h& ^ves his decree, that, in confirming the 
 claims of one a^Hcant^ he does not defeat those of 
 another." 
 
 " They tamper With, his «^hts ! B^g born iu a 
 foreign realm, he is ueiquired tO' Fenouace more in 
 the kind of the stranger, than he wilt gaia within 
 the limits of the republic He wastes life and 
 youth in pursuing a phantom ! You are of weight 
 in the seriate, my guardian, and were you to lend 
 hiiB A» support of youT' powerfiil voice, and great 
 instruction, a wronged noWe wouM have justioe, and 
 
rH$ BRAVO. 75 
 
 V«nioe,thMgb-9he might lose a trifk) firotuher stares, 
 would better deawv© ttiQ cfc»r«fite» of wfeidii she is 
 lo jealous." 
 
 «* Thou art a pearsuAme a4vQeatALand I will think 
 of what thmur urgestt" said th9 ^nor GUradenigo, 
 uhtingii)g'tb» frowB, W'hioh h«d been gathering alwut 
 hia brow» to « look of iiMygene^^* with « fa«cility that 
 betrayed miich pr4«()Qe in adftptise the eapvession 
 of hu fe»turea to his ftelioy. 'H onf^i aoly to 
 hearken to the l^eapotitan, in fny fShlie character 
 of a iudge>; but hi» setrvice to thee, and my weakness 
 ill thy hMialf,<estorts that thou would'st have»" 
 
 Donna Vioietta ]>«Qedvedi the preink^e, with a bright 
 and guilelesa smile. She kiast^d the hand he extend* 
 ed, as a pledge of hi» feitb, with a fervor that gave 
 her attentive guardian serious uoeaMoiesEU 
 
 " Thou aurt too M^iHaingi ev«a to be resisted by one 
 weajried with* vebutting plausible pretennons," he- 
 added. " The young and the g^mrcms,. Donna FIo- 
 nada»l»etieivet4ul to be as thejir ow» wi^g and sim- 
 plicity weidd h«ve tbenok A*, foir this ri^ht of Don 
 Camilk^^but no iwAtier-^thou wik hav6 rt so, and it 
 shall be' examined with that bhnibiess which is said 
 to be the feUing^ ol juatidei," 
 
 " I have undemtood the metaphor to mean blind 
 ro favor, but not insensible to the right." 
 
 " I fear that ia a sense whieh might defeat our 
 h^ieS'-nbut we will look iiito it. My son has been 
 rsiadiy ef his duty and respeet ef late, Donna Yio- 
 letta, ais I -would have him i The) boy wants Uttle 
 urging, I kaow, to lead him to do honoi^to my ward, 
 aad the fairest of Yenieek Thou wilt veoeive him 
 with friendship, for the io>ve thou heeirest hi«ftther?" 
 "DonnA Violwlita Qurtsied, but ^ we»witb womanly 
 reserve. 
 
 ^ The door of my palaee ie 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 
 I would have him prove some little of that great 
 
 esteem, ^but we live in a jealous cityv' Donna Floi 
 
 rinda, and one in which prudence is a virtue of the 
 Highest price. ' If the youth is less urgent than 1 
 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 Viole<ta craved 
 a blessing, and after the usual compliments, and a 
 short diEUogue of courtesy, she and her companion 
 withdrew t<) their boat. 
 
 The Signer Grkdenigo "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, oi 
 some more injurious bargain of thy hopes, with the 
 father, hath occupied the time that might have been 
 devoted niore honorably, Etnd to far better profit" 
 . "You do me httle justice," returned the youth. 
 '' Neither Jew, nor Jewess, hath this day greeted my 
 eyfe." ' . . . , ,,.,,,,, . 
 
 "The calendar should mark the time, for its sin 
 
THE BRAVO. fi 
 
 gularityl 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 1 urge?" 
 
 " Doubt it not, father. He who hath so much suf- 
 fered for the want of that which the Donna Violctta 
 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 Venioe who sighs more loudly be- 
 neath his mistress's window, than I utter my pathetic 
 wishes td 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 
 
 J'outh the usual indulgences of thy years and rank, 
 t is thy excesses, and not thy spirits, I would check. 
 But I would not, now, harden thee with reproof. 
 Giacomo, thon hast a rival in tho stranger. His act 
 in the Giudecca has won upon the fancy of the girl, 
 and like all of generous and ardent natures, ignorant 
 ias 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?" 
 
 " I have." 
 
 "And the means?" 
 
 « The plainest and the most certain — the Lion's 
 mouth," 
 
 G2 
 
T« THE BRAVa 
 
 " Ha ! — ^that, indeed) is a bold adventure." 
 
 "And, like all bold adventures, it is the mort 
 likely to succeed. For once Fortune hath not beeB 
 a niggard with me. — I have given them the Neapoli 
 tan's signet by w4iy of proof." 
 
 "GiacomoJ dost thou know the hazard of thy 
 temerity 1 I hope there is no clue left in the hand- 
 writing, or by any other means taken to obtain the 
 ring?" 
 
 " Father, though I may have overlooked thy in- 
 struction in less Weighty matters, not an admonition 
 which touches the polioy of Yenicd hatli been for 
 gotten. The Neapolitan stands accused, and if thy 
 Council is faithful, he will be a «u8pected« if not a 
 banished, man." 
 
 " That the Council of Three will perform ks trust 
 is beyond dispute. I would I Wfere as certain th&t 
 thy indiscreet zeal may not lead to some luipleasant 
 exposure!" 
 
 The shameless son stared at the father a moment 
 in doubt, and then he passed into the moi-e private 
 parts of the palace, like one too much accustomed 
 to douUe-dealing, to lend it a second^ or a serious 
 thought. The senator remained. His silent walk 
 was now manifestly disturbed by great uneasiness 5 
 and he frequenUy passed a hand across his broW, as 
 if he mused in pain. While thus occupied, a figure 
 stole through toe loi^ suite of ante-thambers, and 
 stopped near the door of the room he occupied. 
 The intruder was aged ; his face was tawny by ex- 
 posure> and his hair thinned and whiteaied by time. 
 His dress was that of a fisherman, being both scanty 
 and of the meanest materials. Still there was a 
 naturally noble and frank intelligence in hiSbold eye 
 and prominent features, while the bare arms anc 
 naked legs exhibited a muscle and proportioh, which 
 proved &at nature was rather at a stand than in the 
 decline. He had been many moments dana:iing his 
 
THE BRAVO. <r9 
 
 lAp, in nabituai but unembarrasted respact, before 
 his presence was observed. 
 
 "Ha! thou here, Antonio!" exclaimed the sena 
 tor, when their eyes met* '« Why this visit ?" 
 
 " Signore, my heart is heAVf-." 
 
 " Hiith the calendar no saint — die fisherman no 
 fatronT I suppose the sirocco hath been tossing 
 the waters of the bay, and thy nets are empty.^ 
 Hold! thou art my fester-brother, and thou must 
 not want^" , 
 
 The fisherman drew back with dignity, refusing 
 the sift simply, but decidedly, by the act 
 
 "«igliorsv we have Ijved from childhood to old 
 age since we draw our milk from the same breast ; 
 in all that time, have you ever known me a beggatt" 
 
 " Thou art not wont to ask these boons, Antonio, 
 it is true; but age conquers our pride with our 
 strength. If it be not isequins that thou eeekcst. 
 what wouyst thou?" 
 
 " There are other wants than those of the body 
 Signore, And other sufferings beside hunger." 
 
 The countenance of the senatot lowered. He 
 cast a sharp glance at his foster-brother^ and ere he 
 anstrared he closed the door which tcommunicated 
 with the outer chamber. 
 
 "Thy words forebode disaffection, as of wont 
 Thou art accustomed to comment on measures and 
 interests that are beyond thy limited reason, and 
 thou knowest that thy opinions have already drawn 
 dispkasure on thee. The ignorant and the low are^ 
 to the state, as children, whose duty it is to obey 
 and not to cavil»^-^Thy errand V 
 
 " I am not the man you think me, Signore. I am 
 used to (wverty and want and little satisfies my 
 wishes. The senate is my master, and as such I 
 honor it ; but a fisherman hath his feelings as Well 
 as the doge i" 
 
 '• Again ! — These feelings of thine, .^VntontO, are 
 
(80 THE BRAVO. 
 
 most iexacting. ' Thou namest them on all occasions, 
 as if they were the engrossing concerns of Hfe," '■. 
 • "3ignore, arie th'ey not to mel 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, Jrour 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 frorti his 
 eyes; 'Van honest and a proud main, for thy con- 
 dition!" 
 
 " She, from whom we both drew our first nour- 
 ishment, Signorei often told me tnat, next to my 
 own kin, it was iny duty to love the noble race shie 
 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 deaJ li^iiSy 
 with such affections." 
 
 " Once more the state ! — Name thy errand." 
 
 '• Your eccelleriza knows the history of my hum- 
 ble life. I need not tell you, Signore, of the sons 
 which God, by the intercession of the Vngin and 
 blessed St. Anthony, was pleased to bestow on me, 
 lor of the manner in which he ;hath seen proper to 
 takes them, one by one, away." 
 
 " Thou hast known sorrow, poor Antonio:! well 
 I emember thou hast suffered, too." 
 
 " Signore, I have; The death« of five manly'and 
 honest sons is a blow to bring a groan from a rock 
 But I have knovl^n how to bless God, and be 
 thankful!" 
 
 « "Worthy fisherman, the doge himself might envy 
 this resignation. It is often easier to endure the 
 OSS than the life of a child, Antonio!" 
 
THE BRAVa St 
 
 ** SigAorfl, no boy of mine ever caused me griefs 
 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 eu3eritig they were removed^ to 
 enjov a more blessed state." 
 
 Tne lip of the Signor Gradenigo (Quivered, and 
 he flfiioveai to and ira with a epkAaii stet>- 
 
 " t think, Antooioi" he sasi, ^' I tfainkt honest An 
 Unnio, I had nta^ses said for the souls ttt them aU ?" 
 
 " Sighove, you h£ld ; SU Anthony remember the 
 kindness iit your own extt'emityl I was wrong in 
 saying that the youths never gave me sorrow but in 
 dying, for tiiere is a pain the rich cannot know, in 
 being too pbor td buy a prayet for a dead child J" 
 
 " WUt uwu have more masses ? Son oF thind 
 shall neveii^ waht a voice with the faints, for th^ 
 ease of his soul!" 
 
 " I thank you, eocellenza, but I have faith ih -what 
 has been «lone, and, more than all, in the mercy of 
 God. My errand now is in behalf of the! Hwing." 
 
 The sympathy of the senator was suddenly tiheck- 
 ed» and he illrdady listehed with a doubtii^; and 
 suspicious aif. 
 
 " Thy errand ?" he simply repeatbdi 
 
 " Is to beg yoUr intei^^ Signore, to obtain the 
 release of my graitdson from tne galleys. They 
 have aeiaed the lad in bis fourteenth year, and con- 
 demned Aim to the wars with the [ntideki without 
 t)i(»ugiht of his tender years, without thought of evil 
 example, without thought of my age abd lobeliness, 
 andj^ without justices for his father died in the last 
 bat(Je given to the Turk." 
 
 As he ceased, the fisherman rivetfed his look on 
 the marble countenance of his auditor, wistfioUy en- 
 deavoring to trace the efiect of his wordsi But all 
 there was coW, unanswering, and void of human 
 •vmpalhy. The soulless, practised, and specious 
 
82 TUB BKAVO. 
 
 reasoning of the state, had long since deadened' all 
 feeling in the senator, on any subject that totiched 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 poHcy 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 eome 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 orjJian 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 retdrt, 
 tvhich in no degree aided the cause of his indiscreet 
 foster-brother. After pacing the room in agitation 
 
TBB 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) etiticsl^ coold not be yielded to the son of the 
 doge, were the doge— j" 
 
 " 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, hid uttered ; and it was some tim<s 
 before the latter knew he was alone. Another step 
 however, soon diverted his attention. The door re; 
 opened, and a menial appeared. He announces 
 that one without sought a private audience. 
 
 " Let him enter," answered the ready senatoi 
 smoothing his features to the customary cautiou* 
 and distrustful expression. 
 
 The servant withdrew, when one masked, ane 
 ^wedring a cloak, quickly entered the room. Whew 
 the latter instrument of disguise was thrown upon 
 an arm, and the visor was removed, the form and 
 &ce of the dreaded Jacopo became visible. 
 6 
 
84 THt BRAVa 
 
 CHAPTER VL 
 
 Cesar himself has work, and oar oppressioii 
 Exceeds what we expected. 
 
 " Didst didu note him that left me?" eagerly de- 
 manded the Signer Gradenlgo. 
 
 «I did." 
 
 " Enough so to recognize form aiHl countenance?' 
 
 " 'T-wAs a fisherman of the Laguoes, named 
 Antonio." 
 
 The senator drdpped ^e extended iimb« and re- 
 garded this BravO) with a iook« in which surprbe 
 and admiration were equaHj^ blended. He i«sutned 
 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 odnuteB were 
 wasted in this absitractiofn< 
 
 " ThoB art quick of sights Jacopol" continued thb 
 patrktiiii]^ breaking the pausis+t^^ Hast thou had deal- 
 ings with the man?" ' 
 
 « Never." 
 
 « Thou art certain it is—" 
 
 " Your eccell^iza's foster^srotlier." 
 
 " I did not. inquire into thy knowlddge of his m- 
 fancy aiid origin, brat of his present state f returned 
 the SJgnor Gcadi^%o, tami<!lg away to conceal his 
 countenance from the glotHi^ 6ye of Jacopo-"" Has 
 he been named to ihee by any ia authority V 
 
 " He has not — my mission does not lie With firik- 
 ermen." 
 
 "Duty may lead us into still humbler society 
 voung 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 
 nath this Antonio come to thy knowledge?" 
 
THE BRAVO. 8§ 
 
 f have known him as one eiteemed by hie fet 
 lows — a man skilful inhis craft, and long practised 
 in the mystery of the LaguAes." 
 
 " He is a defl-audcr 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." 
 , i " Thou knowest, J^copo, the severity of our laws 
 in matters that concern the public mon«ys1" 
 
 " I know that the judgment of SU Mark» Sifinore, 
 is never light wheil m owo; interest it touched." 
 
 " Thou artfiQt iwquitsd to utter opioioOB beyond 
 the present queationi This man hath a habit of 
 courting: the good>will of his associates, and of 
 mitking, his voice heard concerning ttfiairs of which 
 none but his superiors xotey discreetly judge»" 
 
 "Sig^ore, hd is old, and the tongue grows loose 
 with years." 
 
 " This is not the character of Antonio. Nature 
 hath not treated him unkindly; had his birth and 
 edvcatioa been oaual to his miitd, the senate might 
 have been glfld to listen-'— as it ia, I fedr he ^aks in 
 a sense to endanger his own interests." 
 
 '* Surely, if he speaks to offend the ear of St 
 MarL" 
 
 There was a qidck suspicious glatiee from the 
 senator to the Bravo, as if to read the true meaning 
 of tlie Ifttter's words. Finding, howevefc, the same 
 expression of self^ossession in the quiet JeatuT^s he 
 scrutini^, thei l^er continued as if distrust had 
 not (been awakened. 
 
 « It as thou sayeet, he so «po»fcs as to Injure the 
 republic, his years have not brought discrown. 1 
 love the man, /acopO, for it is uajal to regard, with 
 aome partiftUty« those who have drawn nounahment 
 from me same breast with ourselves*" 
 
 « Signore*. it is." 
 
 " And feeling this weakness, in his fevor, I would 
 H 
 
^ THE BRAVO. 
 
 have hiiri admonished tw be prudent Thoii 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 hei 
 fleets r'' 
 
 "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" silch 
 free opinions of his wisddm. This is the third obca-^ 
 sion in which there Jias 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 rende* 
 happy. Seek' opportunities to let him hear this 
 Wholesome truth, for in good i sooth, I would noi 
 willingly see a misfortune Tight 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 lie really felt concern. 
 
 " Thou hast had advice of the judgment, in the 
 (natter 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 tnat certain of our own citizens will be mulcted 
 of much money." ' • 
 
 " I have heaid the same since the sun set, in the 
 Piazzetta, Signore!" 
 
THE BRAVO ^ 
 
 "And do men converse '6f our impartiality, and 
 more than all of uur promptiliule'! 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 
 repubhc visits offences." 
 
 " Nor the justice,! trust also, good Jacopo. There 
 is a beajity 4nd a harmony in the manner in which 
 the social machine rolls on its eoorse, under such a 
 system, that should secure men's apj^ause ! Justice 
 administers to the Wfents of eocietyj and checks the 
 passions with a force as silent and dignified, as if 
 nor 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 Glamorous town, and the stillness of our own 
 noiseless canals. Then the uprightness of the' late 
 decree is in the nwiuths' of the masquers to-night '' 
 
 " Signore, the Venetians are bold v?hen there is 
 an lopportunity to praise their rrtasters." 
 
 '^ Dost thou think thusi Jacopo? To me they 
 have ever seemed more prone to vent their seditious 
 discontent. But 'tis the niature 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 tlie cafes, and at the Lido. They 
 will have no cause to fear, should they giv6 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 
 
68 THE BRAVO. 
 
 come at last to love the quality. The Gbneese, 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 
 chasteniiig hAnd of punishixient. Few st&tes would 
 tiius rend^ 4, judgment against itself, Jaeopo !" 
 
 " Is the slate answeraJ^ for tjie dsed of the taex- 
 chant, Signore?" 
 
 " Through ils citizen. He who i»i]iete.pulushmM) 
 on his own mertibersi i^ a suf&rer, suiSely. No one 
 can pfirt with his owvB flesh without paisj is obt iMs 
 true, felbw?" 
 
 " There are nerves that are delieate to the toiich, 
 Signore, and an <;ye or a tooth is precious { but die 
 paring of a aaiJ^ or the faJl of the beards is little 
 heedea." 
 
 "One who did not know theis» Jacopo, would 
 imagine thee in the ii^reet of the ctmperor ! The 
 sparrow does- not fall la Vmice, without the loss 
 touchwg ths parental feelings of the senate. Well, 
 is there further rumori among the Jews, of a der 
 crease of gold? Seqwts'a^se not so abundant as of 
 wont, and the ohieauiery of that race lends itself 
 to the scarcity, in the hope of; larger profits." 
 
 " I h^ve seen fa^es on the RialtOi of kte* Signore^ 
 that look empty purse& The Christian seems anx- 
 ioust and in want, while the unbelievers wear their 
 gab^cdin^ with a looser liir than is usual." 
 
 " This hath been expected. Doth report openly 
 name any of the Israelites who are in ite custom o? 
 lendiogt on usury, to the yoUng nobles V 
 
 ^ iULwhe h^ve to leod, may be acoouoted of the 
 class; the whole synagogue, rabbis, aad a11« are 
 of a nundi wfaien there is question of a Oihstutn's 
 purse." , . ^ 
 
 " Thou Hkest not the Hebrew, Jacopo ; bat he is 
 
THK'BRXVa Hr» 
 
 of good service in the republic's straits. We crnmi 
 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 bie 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 hsive heard men speak of Signor Giacomo as 
 paying dearest for their favors." 
 
 " Gesu Maria ! my son and heir ! Dost thon not 
 deceive me, man, to gratify thine own displeasure 
 against the Hebrews?" 
 
 " I have no other malice against the race, Sig- 
 nore, than tBe wholesome disreHsh of a Christian. 
 Thus much I hope may be permitted to a believer, 
 but beyond thiat, 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 so'cmn 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 suffei 
 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, m 
 thy character of avenger of private wrongs ? " 
 H2 
 
90 THE RRAV^Q 
 
 " None of note — th6re is oti6 that seeici ft»e ean» 
 esrty, thoiigh I am not yet wholly the inaster of his 
 wishes." 
 
 " Thy office is of much ddieacy and trust> and 
 as thou an wdl asstired^ the rewara is wmghty and 
 sura" The eyes of the Bravo Mtdled withan ex- 
 )pi«ssion whieh caused his Cmmipaiima to pause. But 
 olKeirVang that the nepose^for which the featured (^ 
 Jacopo were so remai?kal»le^ agaiit ptjesidefd over im 
 pallid faoev he oontihued, as if there had been no 
 iitterrii^on ; " I repeat, the bounty and olQikMBiii^ 
 of the state will not be forgotten. If its jtastifteris 
 stern and infallible, its foi^veness is cordial, kiid its 
 favors ample. Of these facts I have taken much 
 pains to assure tliee, Jacopo.^^Blessed St> Mark' 
 that one of the scions of thy great stock shoidd 
 waste his substance for the benefit of a race of un- 
 foeUevers ! But thou hast nrtt named him who iseeks 
 thee, with this earnestness ?* 
 
 " A« I have yet to learn his erratad, before I go 
 further, S^nore, it may be w^ to kbow more of 
 his wishes." 
 
 « This reserve is uttcailed foe. Thou art not to 
 distrust the prudence of the republic's ministersv and 
 I should be sorty were the Inqiiisiitors to gel 4h un- 
 favorable optnion of thy zeal. Tbs individual must 
 be denouiicdd." 
 
 " I denounce him not* The most that I can say 
 ia, that he hath a desire to deal ptivatefy with one, 
 with whom it is altnost eruninal to dieal at aJl." 
 
 " The preverttion of crime is better than it8 puia- 
 ishment, and such is the true ohject of ^U ^oVeM- 
 rnent, Thou wilt not withhold the name of Ay cor- 
 respondent?" 
 
 " It is a noble NeapolilAn, who hath long sc^oum- 
 ed- in Venice, on matters touching a great succeS- 
 HOOi and some right, even, to the senate's digofty " 
 
THE eR»m 91 
 
 « Ha I Don CamiUo Monforte ! Am I right, sir- 
 
 " Signore, the same !" 
 
 The pause which followed was only broken by 
 the clodi of the great square striking eleven, or the 
 fourth hour of the night, as it is termed, by the usage 
 of Italy. The senator stalled^ consulted a time- 
 piece in hia own apartment, and again addressed his 
 companion. 
 
 " This is well," he said ; " thy faith and punctuali- 
 ty shall be remember^di, Look to the fisherman, 
 Antonio ; the murmurs of the old man must not be 
 permitted to awaken discontent, for a cause so 
 trifling, as this transfer of his descendant from a 
 gondola to a galley ; and most of all, keep thy ears 
 attentive to any 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 Sigiror 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 virith- 
 out. Then came a gently tap at the door, and a'l 
 Jie usual bidding, one entered, closely masked, hke 
 him who had departed, as was so much the usage 
 of that city, in the age of which we write. A 
 
■92 THE BRAW>. 
 
 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 canalsj and the gaiety of the square, to 
 gether with some apprehension of intruding prema- 
 turely on time so precious, has, I fear, kept me oui 
 of season. But I' trust to the known goodness oi 
 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 ^hose who do harm to the 
 state. I hope the matter of the succession draws 
 near a conclusion?" 
 
 « I wish it were possible to say it did. I urge the 
 
THE BRAVa 991 
 
 tribunal in all proper assi4uity, omitting no duty of 
 
 Eersoual respect, nor of private solicitation. Padua 
 as not a doctor more learned than he who presents 
 nay 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 withi 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- 
 
 Eressed with the justice of the latter remark. He 
 owed, 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 remaritable by its energy 
 ndwiU." 
 " 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 dangerpus. If tlie 
 
94 "Plffi BRAVO. 
 
 new-made prince wotjd have his duca/1 eorbnet s^ 
 easily on liis brow, he wowld do weB to secure the 
 esteem of his nearest neighborsi" 
 
 "This is obvioudy true, and Kttte that my influ. 
 ence can do toward effecting the oliject, shall be 
 wanting. And now, may I entreat of your friend* 
 ship, advice as to the manner of fi^rther mrging my 
 own long^n^tected ©laims ?" 
 
 " You will do well, Don Camillo, to remind the 
 senators of your presence, by Arequent observance 
 of the courtesies due to their rank aad yours," 
 
 « Thig do I never neglect, as seemly both in my 
 station and my object." 
 
 " The judges should not be fb^otten, young man, 
 for it is wise to remember that justifee hath ever an 
 ear for solicitation." 
 
 " None can be more assiduous in the duty, nor is 
 it common to see a suppliant so mindfbl of those 
 whom he troubleth, by more substantial proofs of 
 respect" 
 
 " But chiefly shouM you be particular to earn the 
 senate's esteem. No act of service to the state ia 
 overlooked by that body, and the smaH^st good deed 
 finds its way into the recesses of the two councife." 
 
 " Would I could have communication with those 
 reverend fathers ! I think the justice of my claim 
 would speedily work out its own pighfc** 
 
 "That were impossible!" gravely returned the 
 senator. "Those august bodies are se<;ret, that 
 theii majessty may not b© tarnished by communica- 
 tion with vulgar interests, f^ey rate hke the un- 
 seen influence of mind over matter, and form, as it 
 were, the sod' of the state, whose seat, like that of 
 I eason, remains a problem exceeding human pene- 
 brfttbn." 
 
 " I express the desire, rather as a wish than with 
 any hope of its being granted," returned' tb© Duke- of 
 St. Agata, resaming his cloak and mask, neither d 
 
the; BBAva 95 
 
 vhi«b )ia4 W:« entirety I^ aside. " Adi^u, fK>Ue 
 Sipnor^; I sh^U not cease to move the CastUvao 
 vntb ^eqi^Qt advip^, and* in returo, I (toDomit cny 
 ai^XX i9, tbe jif^tice pf the patricians, and yptir own 
 good frWWU^iB.": 
 
 ^nov Q^Ade^iop bowed his guest through aU 
 the roonp* <?£ tihfe wag wit^ bm th^ l»6ti wbe^e h« 
 committed him to the care of the groon^ pC hij 
 Qhamberso 
 
 '^ Tht$ youth must ,he stj^rred to greatoc i^ustry 
 in thw matter, by c^ggiixg tho wheels of the law« 
 He ^at w<^uld ask i^v«rs o( St. Mark mu»t first 
 earn them, by showing zealous disiiositiow i» hia 
 behaJf," 
 
 Si^h were the reflentioos of the Signor Gr»< 
 denigo, as he slpwty returned towards his closet, 
 ai\er a ceremonious leave-taking with his gueat, in 
 the outer ^,^tment. Oozing the door, he com- 
 menced pacing the small apartment, with the step 
 and eye of a man who again mused with some 
 anxiety. After a Rmnute o( profound stiUness, a 
 door, concealed by tjbe barkings of the room, was 
 cautiously opemedt and the ^e ol^ still another 
 visitor appeared. 
 
 " ^ter !" sajd th$ senator, betraying no surprise 
 at thte appvritioQi; "the hour is; past,^ a^ I wait 
 Cor thee." 
 
 The i^wiog dress, the gray and venerable beard, 
 tjbe noble OMtline of featureci the quiok, greedy, and 
 auspicious eye« with an expression of Qounte^ance. 
 that was» p^rh»ps» ec^aUy marked by worldly saga- 
 ^tv, and fei?iivp;s often rudely rebuked, pro«cliaimed 
 a, Hebrew of w» Kii^Jto., 
 
 " Enter, Hosea, and unburthen thyself," continued 
 (hi^ senator, hke one prepatred for some habitual 
 communication. " Is there aught new that towjhes 
 tb^.-puititi^ weai?" 
 
 "Blessed is the people over whom there is a» 
 
90 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 n[io\'ing, 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 V 
 
 "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 jDleasures, 
 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 riot- 
 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 
 r>f price " 
 
THE BRAVO. 97 
 
 "Whence came it — and why is it senl to thee?" 
 
 « It came, Signore, as I gather more through 
 hints and intimations of the messenger than by his 
 words, from a place resembUng 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 intimale, 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- 
 ferers 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 stale taketh no account, into tlje 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 Neapohtan who now urges his rights here 
 
98 THE BRAVO. 
 
 in Venice, is the present owner of this preeidus 
 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 saidj 
 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 Signer 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- 
 hers of the city are fond of using, when they tempt 
 the weaker sex with fair words and seductive van- 
 ities." 
 
THE BBAVO 99 
 
 « It is a heart pierced with the dart of lo^e, and 
 a motto of 'pensa al cvore trafitto cCamore.'" 
 
 " Naught else, as my eyes do their duty. I snould 
 think there was but very Uttle meant by those 
 wordsk Signore!" 
 
 " That as may be. Thou hast never sold a jewel 
 with that conceit?" 
 
 "Just Samuel! We dispose of them daily, to 
 Christians of both sexes and all ages. I know no 
 device of greater freqflency, whereby I conceive 
 there is much commerce in this light fidelity." 
 
 " He who used it did well in concealing his 
 thoughts beneath so general a dress ! There will be 
 a reward of a hundred sequins to him who traces 
 the owner." 
 
 Hosea was about to return the seal as beyond his 
 knowledge, when this remark fell casually from the 
 lips of the Signor Graaenigo. In a moment his eyes 
 were fortified with a glass of microscopic power, 
 and the paper was again before the lamp. 
 
 "I disposed of a cornelian of no great price, 
 which bore this conceit, to the wife of the emperor's 
 ambassador, but conceiving there was no more in 
 the purchase than some waywardness of fancy, I 
 took no precaution to note the stone. A gentleman 
 m the family of the Legate of Ravenna, also, traf- 
 ficked with me for an amethyst of the same design, 
 but with him, neither, did I hold it important to be 
 particular Ha! here is a private mark, that in 
 truth seemeth to be of my own hand !" 
 
 "Dost thou find a clue? What is the sign of 
 which thou speakest?" 
 
 « Naught, noble senator, but a slur in a letter, 
 ivhich would not be apt to catch the eye of an ovei- 
 credulous maiden." 
 
 "And thou parted vnth the seal to ?" 
 
 Hosea hesitated, for he foresaw some danger of 
 7 
 
100 THE BRAVO. 
 
 t)sing his rewatd, by a too hasty coioftiunication 
 of the truth. 
 
 "If it be important that the fac-t 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, andjthe 
 reward a sufficient pledge that we so esteem it." 
 
 " Something was said, illustrious Signore, of a 
 hundred sequins; but .my ttiind taketh little heed 
 of such particulars, when the good of Venice is in 
 luestion.?' 
 
 " 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 5 and 
 reading in his eye and countenance that the clue 
 was agreeable, he answered protnptly^-'— 
 , " 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 !" 
 
 t The Hebrew, exulting in his success, now took 
 his leave, with a manner in which habitual cupidity 
 and- subdued pohcy completely mastered every 
 other feeling. He diaap^ared by the, passage 
 throi^h whic-h he had entered. ;...,, 
 
 It seemed, by the manner of the Signer Gra 
 
TlIE BRAVO. 1©] 
 
 den i go, that the receptions for tkat eveninj^ 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 Signer 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- 
 accomttiodating 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 vii tue, 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 
 
102 THE BRAVO. 
 
 of the whole ; being, as respects the first, a furious 
 repubUcan, 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 ahve to innovations on 
 usages and to vicissitudes in the histories of families, 
 for calciilation 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 vsdsdom 
 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 Vn. 
 
 The moon went down ; and nothing now was seen 
 Save where the lamp of a Madonna shone 
 Faintly. 
 
 Rogers 
 
 Fust as the secret audiences of the Palazzo Gia- 
 denigo were ended, the great square of St. Mark 
 began to lose a portion of its gaiety. The cafda 
 were noiv occupied by parties who had the means, 
 and were m the l^mor, to put their indulgences to 
 
THE BRAVO. 103 
 
 more substantial proof than the passing gibe or Idle 
 laughs while those who were reluct&ntly 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 Uttle 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 
 move. 
 
 " Thou art late from thy bed, Antonio," said a 
 voice at his elbow. " The triglie must be of good 
 price, or of great plenty, that one of thy trade can 
 spare time to air himself in the Piazza at this hour. 
 Thou hearest, the clock is telling the fiflh hour of 
 Jie night." 
 
 The fisherman bent his head aside, and regardad 
 
104 THK BRAVO. 
 
 the figure of his masked companioB, for a moment, 
 with indifference, betraying neither curiosity nor 
 feeling at his address. 
 
 " Since thou knowest me," he answered, " it is 
 probable thou knowest that in quitting this place, I 
 shall go to an empty dwelling. Since thou luiowest 
 me so well, thou should'st also know my wrongs." 
 
 "Who hath iiqured thee, worthy fi^rman, that 
 thou speakfist so boldly benea^ the very windows 
 of the doge 1" 
 
 "The state." 
 
 " This is hardy lainguage for the ear of St. 
 Mark I Were it too loudly spoken, yonder lion 
 might growl. — Of what dost thou accuse the re- 
 public ?" 
 
 " Lead me to them that sent thee, and I will spare 
 the trouble of a go-betwee»i. lam ready to tell my 
 wrongs to the doge, on his throne; for what can 
 one, poor, and old as I, dread from their anger'" 
 
 " Thou belie vest me sent to betray thee?" 
 
 " Thou knowest thine own errand." 
 
 The other removed his mask, and turned his face 
 towards the moon. 
 
 "Jacopo!" exclaimed the fisherman, gazing al 
 the expressive Italian features ; " one of thy char- 
 acter can have no errand with me." 
 
 A flush, that was visible even in that light, passed 
 athwart the countenance of the Bravo ; but he stilled 
 every other exhibition of feeling. 
 
 " Thou art wrong. My errand is with thee." 
 
 "Does the senate think a fisherman of the La- 
 gunes of sufficient importance to be struck by a 
 stiletto? Do thy work, then!" he added, glancing 
 at his brown and naked bosom ; " there is nothing 
 to prevent thee!" 
 
 " Antonio, thou dost me wrong. The senate lias 
 no such purpose. But I have heard that thou hast 
 reason for discontent, and that ihou speakest openly 
 
THE BRAVO lOo 
 
 on the Lido and among the islands, of affairs that 
 .he 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 1" 
 
 "Old man, age should teach thy tongue mode 
 ration. What will avail vain complaints against 
 the republic, or what canst thou hope for, as tfieir 
 fruits, but evil to thyself, and evil to the child that 
 ihou lovest?" 
 
 '•1 know not — ^but when the heart is sore, the 
 tongue will speaL 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 Signer Gradenigo has long been friendly to 
 tliee, 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 o' 
 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 tliy 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 Till'; BRAVO. 
 
 labor and our means, but when it c jmes to out 
 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 fleets "would they, think 
 you, find them that would honor the winged lion, in 
 the hour of his need ? Thy old arm is mustsular, and 
 thy Jeg steady on the water, ^nd they- seek those 
 who,, like thee, have been trained to the seas." 
 
 " Thou shtoold'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 tj;e 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." 
 
 i> The fisherman glanced a look around^ and -per- 
 ceiving that several groups were conversihg near, 
 in the square, he signed to his companion tp 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 
 tne to heai that the son of one I much loived,;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. [07 
 
 blood was never yet blessed to him that gave, oj 
 him that received." 
 
 The Bravo listened in silence, though his com 
 panion, who, at another moment, and under othei 
 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 tlw saints for aid, and to lay aside the stileno 
 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 ^ows a penitent spirit Lay 
 aside thy stiletto, and come with me to the L!<feuhcs. 
 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 Lqgunes, 
 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 sufier 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 
 
 aetivity of the inquisition. But should 1 go with 
 
 .he« to-night, wilt thou be more discreet in speech 
 
 hmoiig thy feBows of the Lido, and the islands?" 
 
 When the heart hath its load, the tongue will 
 
108 THE BRaVO 
 
 strive to lighten it. I would do any thicg -to tiun 
 the child of my friend from his evil ways, but forgei 
 my own. Thou art used to deal with the patricians- 
 Jacopo ; would there be possibility for one, clad in 
 this dress, and with a face blackened- by the sun, to 
 come to speak with the doge?" 
 
 " There is no lack of seeming justice in Venice, 
 Antonio ; the want is in the substance. I doubt not 
 thou would'st be heard." 
 
 " Then will I wait, here, upon the stones of the 
 square, until he comes forth for the pomp of to- 
 morrow, and try to move his heart to justice. He 
 is old, like myself, and he hath bled too, for the state, 
 and what is more, he is a father." * 
 
 " So is the Signor Gradenigo." 
 
 " Thou doubtest his pity— ha V 
 
 " Thou canst but try. The Doge of Venice will 
 hearken to a petition from the meanest citizen. I 
 think," added Jacopo, speaking so low as to be 
 scarcely audible, " he would listen even to me." 
 
 " Though I am not able to put my prayer in such 
 speech as becometh the ear of a great prince, he 
 sliall hear the truth from a wronged man. They 
 call him the chosen of the state, and such a one 
 should gladly listen to justice. This is a hard bed, 
 Jacopo," continued the fisherman, seating himself 
 at the foot of the column of St. Theodore, " but 1 
 have slept on colder and as hard, when there was 
 less reason to do it — a happy night." 
 
 The Bravo lingered a minute near, the old man, 
 who folded his arms on his naked breast, which was 
 fanned by the sea-breeze, and disposed of his person 
 to take his rest in the square, a practice not unusual 
 among men of his class ; but when he found that 
 Antonio was inclined to be alone, he moved <^, 
 leaving the fisherman to himself. 
 
 The night was now getting to be advanced, and 
 few of Ine revellers rem9,ined in the areas of the 
 
THIS HKAVU 109 
 
 two squares. Jacopo cast a glance aroiind, and 
 noting the hour and the situation of the place, he 
 proceeded to the edge of the quay. The pubUc 
 eondoliers 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?" 
 
 " The same." 
 
 " Thou art late," said the mariner of Calabria, as 
 Jacopo stepped upon the lo^y 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." 
 
 " 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 fraghts and hard bar- 
 gains. I have sent a dozen casks of lachrymae 
 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?" 
 
 K 
 
110 THE BRAVO. 
 
 "Is the senate as ready witli its money ? This is 
 the fourth of my voyages in their service ; and they 
 nave only to look into their own secrets to know the 
 manner in which the work hath been done." 
 
 " They are content, and thou' hast been well re- 
 warded." 
 
 " Say it not. I have gained more gold by one 
 ucky shipment of fruits from the isles, than by all 
 I heir night^work. Would those #ho employ me 
 give a little especial traffic on the entrance tiC. the 
 Felucca, there might be advantage in the tradfe." 
 
 " Thiere is nothing which St. Mark visits with a 
 heavier punishment than frauds on his receipts. 
 Have a care with thy wines, or thou wilt lose not 
 only thy bark and thy voyage^'but thy liberty'!" 
 
 " This is just the -ground of niy complaint, Sig- 
 nOr Roderigo. Rogue and no rogue,' is the repub- 
 lic's motto. Here, they are as close in justice as a 
 father amid his children; and there, it is better that 
 what is done should be done at midnight. I like not 
 the contradiction, for jilst as rtiy hopes are a little 
 raised; by what 1 have witnessed, perhaps a little 
 too near, they are all blown to the winds,'by stich a 
 frown as San Gennero himself mig^t cast upon a 
 sinner." 
 
 " Remember thou art not in thy wide Mediter- 
 ranean, but on a canal of Venice.' This language 
 mighr be unsafe, were it heard by less friendly 
 ears." 
 
 " I thank tliee for thy care, though the sight of 
 3 onder old palace is as good a hint to the loofee 
 longue, as the sigl^it of a gibbet, on the sea^shorte, to 
 a pirate. I met an ancient fellow in the Piazzetta, 
 about the time the ma-squers Came in, and we had 
 some words on this matter. 'By his tally, eveiy 
 second man in Venice is well paid for reporting 
 what 'the others say and do. 'Tis a pityj wttlii all- 
 their seeming love of justice, good Roderi^vtha* 
 
rUK UltAVX). Ill 
 
 tne senate should let oivers knaves go al large ; men 
 whose very faces cause ihe 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. — ^Whal 
 aileth thee, man 1 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- 
 cano. This Jaoopo is one that should not go at 
 large in an honest city, and yet is he seen pacing 
 the square with as much ease as a noble in the 
 Broglio !» 
 
 " I know him not" 
 
 " Not to know the boldest hand and surest stfletto 
 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 me 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 woi^ of his 
 sure hand in the Wow. Sigiior Roderigo, your ca- 
 nals are convenient gr&^es for sudden dealfcs i" 
 
 " Methinks thftre is contradiction in this. Thou 
 speakesl of proofs of the hand that gave it, in the 
 manner of the blow, and then thou cafibst in the aid 
 of the canals to cover the whole deed. Trulv. 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 we'l 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, ano 
 
THE BRAVO. 113 
 
 die 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 fail 
 ns thine, Sienor Roderigo, had better be seen open 
 iy than go thus for ever behind a cloud." 
 
 " My answer hath been made. What the slate 
 wills cannot be overlooked; but since I see thou 
 knowest me, take heed not to betray thy know- 
 ledge." 
 
 '< Thou wodd'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 mysRlf, 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, 1 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 criticaftrade." 
 
 " HeiJe 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 
 .hought, among strangers; but I biew her at a 
 glance for the daughter of a wine-seller, who had 
 already tasted lachrymas christi of mine. The 
 K2 
 
114 THE BRAVO. 
 
 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 !" 
 
 " 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 heutenant-generai 
 of the galleys, a httle disguised." 
 
 " And this with thy knowledge of men !" 
 " If faith were always equal, where would be its 
 merit 1 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 whistUng shot, having always turbans 
 pefore 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 aifaiis, Signor 
 Roderigo, to know even his.own merits." 
 
 " I believe thee. But who is this Gino, of whom 
 tliou hast spoken, and what has his occupation, as 
 a gondoUer, 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 famihes. Gino is ready enough 
 with his oar, and as good a youth, in his way, as 
 need bo. 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." 
 
 "Andof goodskiU?" 
 
 " I say nothing of his arm, or his leg, both of 
 which a re 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. 1 
 love nim, but thou would'st not have me say more 
 than the truth will warrant." 
 
 " Well, keep thy felucca in readiness, ff)r we know 
 aot tlie moment it may be needed;" 
 8 
 
116 THE BRAVO. 
 
 ■ " Thou hast only to bring thy freight, Signore, to 
 have the bargain fulfilled." 
 
 "Adieu. — I would recommend to thee, to keep 
 apart from all other trades, and to see that the rev- 
 elries of to-morrow do not debauch thy people." 
 
 "God speed thee, Signor Roderigo.-^-Nau/];iil 
 shall be wanting." 
 
 The Bravo stepped into his gondola, which glideo 
 from the felucca's side with a facility which showed, 
 that an arm, skilled in its use, held the oar. He 
 waved his hand, in adieu to Stefano, and then the 
 boat disappeared among the huUs that crowded the 
 port. 
 
 For a few minutes the padrone of the BeUa Sor- 
 rentina continued to pace her decks, snuffing the 
 fresh breeze that came in over the Lido, and then 
 he sought his rest. By this ' time, the dark, silent 
 gondolas, which had been floating, by hundreds, 
 through the basin, were all gone. The sound of 
 music was heard no longer on the canalk, and Ven- 
 ice, at all times noiseless, and peculiar, seemed to 
 sleep the sleep of the dead. 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The fisher came 
 From his green islpt, bringing o'er the waves 
 His wife and little one ; the husbandman 
 From the firm land, with many a friar and nun, 
 And village maiden, her first flight from home, 
 Crowding the common ferry. 
 
 Rogers. 
 
 A BRIGHTER day than that wh-ch succeeded the 
 night last mentioned, never dawned upon the massive 
 domes, the gorgeous palaces, and the glittering ca- 
 nals of Venice. The sun had not been long above 
 
THE BBAVO. 117 
 
 the lev«l of the Lido, before the strains of horns and 
 trumpets arose from the square of St. MarL 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 
 wliile 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 theii 
 holiday attire, while ftiousands of contadini landed 
 at the different bridges, clad in the gay costumes of 
 the maia 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 cathedial 
 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 uphsld. me conquered bannei:s 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 tsach 
 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. Neai; this watery path, 
 boats of all sizes and descriptions, filled with the 
 curious and observant,, we re 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 momentaiy 
 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 acci'edited 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 prehminaries, 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, 
 proclaiiried the approach of the doge. 
 
 We shall not detain the narrative, to describe the 
 pomp in which a luxurious and affluent aristocracy, 
 that in general held itself aloof from famihar inter- 
 
THE BRAVO 119 
 
 ::ourse with those it ruled, displayed its magnificence 
 to the eyes of the multitude, on an occasion of pop- 
 ular rejoicing. Long lines of senators, dressed in 
 their robes of office, and attended by crowds of 
 liveried followers, came from under the galleries of 
 the palace, and descended by the Giant's Stairway 
 into the sombre court. Thence, the whole issued 
 into the Piazzetta, in order, and proceeded to their 
 several stations, on the canopied deck of the well- 
 known bark. Each patrician had his allotted place, 
 and before the rear of the cortege had yet quitted 
 the quay, there was a long and imposing row of 
 grave legislators seated in the established order of 
 their precedency. The ambassadors, the high dig- 
 nitaries of the state, and the aged man, who had 
 been chosen to bear the empty honors of sovereign- 
 ty, still remained on the land, waiting, with the quiet 
 of trained docility, the moment to embark. At this 
 moment, a man of an embrowned visage, legs bare 
 to the knee, and breast open to the breeze, rushed 
 through the guards, and knelt on the stones of the 
 quay, at his feet. 
 
 "Justice! — great prince!" cried the bold stran- 
 ger; "justice and mercy! Listen to one, who has 
 Bled for St. Mark, and who hath his scars for his 
 witnesses." 
 
 " Justice and mercy are not always companions," 
 calmly observed he, who wore the horned bonnet, 
 motioning to his oflficious attendants to let the intni 
 <ler stay. 
 
 " Mighty prince ! I come for the last" 
 
 " Who and what art thou?" 
 
 " A fisherman of the Lagunes. One named An 
 tonio, who seeketh the liberty of the prop of hi 
 years — a glorious boy, that force and the policy cf 
 the state have torn from me." 
 
 " This should not be 1 Violence is not tne attri- 
 
120 THE BRAVO. 
 
 bute of justice — but the youth hath ofl[eaded the 
 laws, and he sufiereth for his crimes'?" 
 
 " He is guilty. Excellent and most Serene High 
 ness, of youth, and health, and strength, with some 
 sldll 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 (he foreign agents, to 
 proceed. - 
 
 " Bear him away," said an officer, who took his 
 master's meaning from the glance; " the ceremonies 
 may not be retarded, for a prayer so idle." 
 
 Antonio offered no resistance, but yielding to the 
 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 monnents, 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 rusned 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 BRAVa 121 
 
 manner did the gay and shouting cortege aweep 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 rathei 
 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 mto 
 the open space beneath tlie gallery of the Bucentaur. 
 The movement of the arm which directed the light 
 gondola was dexterous and still strong, though the 
 nairs of him who held the oar were thin and white 
 L 
 
123 ' THE BRAVa 
 
 A su{^.iaiit eye was cast tip at the happy faces tba 
 adorned the state of the priniie, and then the hmk 
 was chariged intently to the i*ater, A smaB fisher 
 man's buoy fell from the boat^ which glided away 
 so socm^ that, amid the animation and i^roar ei 
 that moment^ the action was scarce heeded by the 
 excited tiroi^. 
 
 The atqaatic procession now returned towaids 
 the crtyj tte ntnltitade rending thfc air \»ith 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 triie that a few among 
 the Venetians themselves reganted these famous 
 nuptials of the Adriatic with indifference ; and that 
 several of the ministers of the northern and more 
 maritime states, who were witniessBS on the occa- 
 sion, had scarcely concealed, as they cast glances 
 of intelligence and pride among themselves, their 
 smilest Still, such was the influraice of habit, for so 
 much does even arrogant assumption, when l»ng 
 and perseveringly maintained, count among men 
 that neither the increaising feebleness of the republic, 
 nor the known superiority of other powras oa the 
 very element which this pageant was intended to 
 represent as lie pecdiar properly of St. Mark, could 
 yet cover the lofty pretension with the ridicute it 
 merited^ Time has since taught the world thai 
 Venice continued this idte deception for ages after 
 both reason and rtwdesty shwtdd have dictated its 
 discontinuance; hot, at tlae period of which we 
 write, that ajnabitiousi, crapulousi, and faetitioue state 
 was rather teginning to feel the symptomatic em» 
 dence of its fading Cireurastance^ than to be fully 
 conscioiM of the swiSt progress of a dowavi'ard 
 course. In tins manner do communities, like indi- 
 t^iduaisy draw near their dissolution^ nattentive to 
 th^ syrmntoms of ^cay, aiitil thev are overtake? 
 
nns, BRAva 12S 
 
 with tkat fate, which iinatty overwhdiDs empires 
 and their power in the common lot of man 
 
 The Bucentaur did not return directfy to the 
 quay, to disbmrthen ils^f of its grave and dignified 
 load. Hie gaudy gojiey ancliored in the centre of 
 the port,' and opposite to the wide mou^ of the 
 groat canal. Officers had been busjr^ throngfaoat 
 the momiHg^r in caoeii^ all the shipping and heavy 
 boats, of which btuidreas h,y in that jptfincknl artery 
 o4 the city, to remov* from the centre at the pass- 
 age, an«( heralds now summoned the citizens to wit- 
 ness the regatta, with which the pubhc ceremenie^ 
 of the day were to tenninata 
 
 Venice, from her peeufidr fbrmatioR and tfte vast 
 nnmber of her watermen, had lonig been celebrated 
 for this species ol amusement. Families were 
 known and eetebrated in her traditions for dexter- 
 ous skill with thte oar, as tliey were known in Rome 
 for feats of a fer less useful and of a more barbar- 
 ous nature. It was usual to select from these races 
 of watermen the most vigoPoas and skilful } and 
 after invoking the aid of patrow-saints, and arousing 
 their pride and recollections by songs that recocmted 
 the feats of their ancestors, to start them for the 
 goal, with every incitement that pride and the love 
 of victory covM awaken. 
 
 Most of these ancient usages were still observed 
 As soon as the BUcentaur was in its station, some 
 thirty or forty gOndoKerS Were brought forth, clad 
 in their gayest KabiKments, and surrounded and sup- 
 ported ^ crowds of anxious friends and relativsst 
 The intended competitors were expected to sustaia 
 the long-established reputations of their several 
 names, and they were admonished of the disgrace 
 of defeat. They were cheered by tte men, and 
 stimulated by the smiles and tears of the other sex. 
 Tbe rewards were lecafed to their minds; they 
 were fortified t^pirayera to ^e saints f and tttea 
 
184 THE BRAVO. 
 
 Jiey 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 
 Darts by a channel much broader than thdt 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 undtdating 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 aU 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 pubhc, 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 decii 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 wijjich 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- 
 nicateu 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 elevnent, 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 little barks, which had come 
 off like a closely-united flock of birds taking flight 
 together in alarm, began to open, till they formed a 
 long and vacillating line, in the centre of the 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 moie 
 in view of tne principal personages of the city. 
 
 But here those radical qualities, which insure 
 success in efforts of this natui-e, manifested diem- 
 eelves. The weaker began to yield, the train to 
 L2 
 
lae THE BRAVO- 
 
 engtlien, and hopes aod fears to increase, imtil 
 those in the front presented the exhilarating specta- 
 cle of success, while those behind offered the stiH 
 more noble sight of men struggling without hope. 
 Gradually the oistances between the boats increased, 
 while that between them and the goal grew rapidly 
 less, until three of those in advance game in, like 
 glancing arrows, beneath the stem of the Bucen- 
 taur, with scarce a letgth between them. The 
 prize was won, the conquerors were rewarded, and 
 the artillery gave forth the usual signals of rejoicing. 
 Music answered to the roax of cannon and the peals 
 of bells, while ^anpathy with success, that predoEp- 
 inant and so often dangerous principle of our nature, 
 4rew shouts even from the disappointed. 
 
 The clamor ceased, and a herald prockhned 
 aloud the commencement of a''new and a difierent 
 struggle. The last, and what uaight be termed the 
 national race, had been limited, by an ancient 
 usage, to the known aad recognized goadoliers 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 annojiuced, 
 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 aUached 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 strqggle; while a 
 similar ornament of silver was to be the portion of 
 him, who showed the second-best dexterity ano 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 
 wojuJd necessarily fall the whote duty of guiding 
 
THE BRAVO. 1S7 
 
 while ne impelled his little hark. Aoy of tiiose who 
 ha4 he«u engaged in the previous trial were admit- 
 ted to this ; and all desirous of taking part m ttie 
 new struggle were concuna^ided to come Leneath the 
 stern of the Bucentaw, within a prescribed number 
 of minutes, that note might be had of their wishes 
 As notice of this arrangement had been previously 
 Iveu, the interval between the two races was not 
 
 Phflf first who ca«ne out of the erowd of boats, 
 whiph envirofied the vacant place that had been leiit 
 tbr the competitorei, was a gondolier of the public 
 landing, well known for his skill with the oar, aiad 
 j)is song on the canaL 
 
 " How art thou caJled, and in whose name dost 
 thou ptjit thy cht^ace?" demanded the berald of this 
 aquatic course. 
 
 <' AU know tne for Bartolomeo, one who lives be- 
 tween the Piq.azetta and the Lido, and, like a lojra. 
 Venetian, I trust in San Teodoro.*' 
 
 " Thou art w«U protected ; take ihy {daoe, and 
 *wait thy fortune." 
 
 The conscious waterman swept the water witii a 
 back stroke of his blade, and the Ught goadoia 
 whirled away into the centre of the vacant spot, like 
 a swan giving a sudden ^ance aside. 
 
 "And who ajt thou?" demanded t^e official of 
 the next that came. 
 
 " Enrico, a gondolier of Fusina. I come to try 
 my oar with the braggarts of the «anals." 
 
 '^ In whom is thy trust?" 
 
 " Sant' Antonio di JPadua." 
 
 " Thou wi(t need his aid, tjioiigh we commen'J 
 ■thy sjpjrit, Enter, and take pla0e."-T-'* And who art 
 -thou?" be Qontinued, to another, when the second 
 had imitated the easy skill of the first. 
 
 *' I am called Gino of Calabria, a gondolier in 
 jxivate 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. 
 
 " WUt thou name thy support in this great trial 
 of force V resumed the herald. 
 
 "My master," uttered the terrified Giho, "St 
 Januarius, and St. Mark." 
 
 " Thou art well defended. Should the two latter 
 fail thee, thou mayest surely count on the first!" 
 
 " Signor Monforte has an illustrious name, and 
 he is welcome to our Venetian sports," observed the 
 doge, slightly bending his head towards the young 
 Calabrian noble, who stood at no great distance, in 
 a gondola of state, regarding the scene with a 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 
 
TlUi BRAVO. 189 
 
 ightitess, but wluch 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 si^ &om the 
 doge arrested his arm, 
 
 "Question him, as of wont," »id the ipanee. 
 
 " How art thou named V cootioiiied the veluctant 
 ofUcial, whtQ> like all of subordinate condition, hao 
 4»r inore jealousy of litie dignity of the sports he di 
 rocted, than his superior. 
 
 " I an) kpown as Antonio, a fisherman of the La- 
 
 « Thou ftrt old!" 
 
 " Sigoore, none know it better than L It is sixty 
 summers sino^ J ,fivstt Hhrew net, or iine, into the 
 water." 
 
 ^' Nor art thou clad, as befitteth one who oometh 
 biefore the .^ts pf Venice, in a regaita." 
 
 "I am here in the best that I have. Xiet.iitera 
 who would do the nobles greater honor, come in 
 better." 
 
 " Thy limbs are uncovered — thy bosom tjare^rr-thy 
 sinews leebl&T-T-go to ; thou art ill advised to inter- 
 rupt the pli^asures of the npbles, by this levity." 
 
 Again Antonio would have shrunk from the ten 
 thousand eyes that shone upon him, when the calm 
 voice ^f t^ dpge once more came to his aid. 
 
 "The stfugglje is open to all," said the sowereign; 
 ■"smi I wpipld advise the pour and aged man to take 
 counsel ; give him silver, for want urges him to this 
 hopeless trial." 
 
 "Thou hcarest; alms are pffeared thee; but give 
 place to those who are stronger, and more seemly, 
 for the sport." 
 
 " I will ol^y, as is the duty of one born and ac- 
 tustomed to poverty. They said the race was opeu 
 
130 TUK BRAVO. 
 
 .0 all, and I crave the pardon of the nobles, since I 
 meant to do them no dishonor." 
 
 " Justice in the palace, and justice on the canals," 
 hastily observed the prince. " If he will continue, 
 it is his right. It is the pride of St. Mark that his 
 balances are held with an even hand." 
 
 A murmnr of applause succeeded the specious 
 sentiment, for the powerful rarely adect the noble 
 attribute of justice, however limited may be its ex- 
 ercise, without their words finding an echo in the 
 tongues of the selfish. 
 
 " Thou hearest — His Highness, who is the voice 
 of a mighty state, says thou mayest remain ^— 
 though thou art still advised to withdraw." 
 
 " I will then see what virtue is left in this naked 
 arm," returned Antonio, casting a mournful glance, 
 . and one that was not entirely free from the latent 
 vanity of man, at his meagre and threadbare attire, 
 " The limb hath its scars, but the infidels may have 
 spared enough, for the little I ask." 
 
 " In whom is thy faith ?" 
 
 "Blessed St. Anthony, of the Miraculous 
 Draught." 
 
 " Take thy place. — Ha ! here cometh one unwill- 
 ing to be known ! How now ! who appears with so 
 false a face?" 
 
 « Call me. Mask." 
 
 '' So neat and just a leg and arm, need not have 
 liid their fellow, the countenance. Is it Your High- 
 ness's pleasure that one disguised should be entered 
 for the sports?" 
 
 " Doubt it not. A mask is sacred in Venice. It 
 is the glory of our excellent and wise laws, that he 
 who seeketh to dwell within the privacy of his own 
 thoughts, and to keep aloof from curiosity by shad- 
 owing his features, rangeth our streets and canals, 
 as if he dwelt in the security of his own abode. 
 Such are the high privileges of liberty, and such il 
 
THE BRAVO. 131 
 
 is to be a citizen of a generous, a magnoiumous, 
 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 pSople 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 strangei paused, as if he looked into his 
 mind, and then he answered — 
 
 " San Giovanni of the Wilderness." 
 
 " Thou najnest 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, 
 out this reverend rank of patricians, yonder brilliant 
 9 
 
193 '!«£ BRAVO. 
 
 show of beauty, and that goodly jnultitude, may 
 
 claim another name. — Take thy place." 
 
 While the herdd proceeded to take the names of 
 three or four more applicaats, all gondoliers in pri- 
 vate service, a murmur ran through the spectators, 
 which proved how much their interest and curiosity 
 had been awakened, by the replies and appearance 
 of the two last comjpetitor^, In ihe mean tiq^, the 
 young nobles who entertained those who came last, 
 began to move among the throng i^ boats, with the 
 intention of innaking such manifest^iitions oi their 
 gallant desires, and personal devotion, as suited the 
 customs iand opinions of the age. The Ust was now 
 proclaimed to be full, and the gosdolas were lowed 
 off", as before, towards the starting point, leaving the 
 place, beneath the stern oi the Suoeiitaut, vacant. 
 The scene that followed, consaquesdy passed direct- 
 ly before the eyes of those grave men, who charged 
 themselves with most of tlie. private interests, as 
 well as with the puWie concerns of Venice. 
 
 There were many unmasked and Mgh-boim daisies, 
 whirliqg about in their boats, attended by cavaliers 
 in rich attire, and, here aijd there, appeared a pair 
 of dark iustrows eyes, peeping liirough the silk of a 
 viscnr, that concealed some countenance too y^sutliful 
 for exposure, in so gay a scene. One gondola, in 
 particular, was remarked for the mngvdatr grace and 
 beauty of the form it held, qualities -which made 
 themselves apparent, even through the half-digguise 
 of the simple habiliments she wore. The boat, the 
 servants, and the ladies, for there were two, were 
 alike distinguished for that air of severe but finished 
 simplicity, whidi oftener denotes the presence of 
 high quality and true taste, than a more lavish ex- 
 penditure of vulgar ornament. . A Carmelite, whose 
 features were concealed by his cowl, testihed that 
 iheir condition was high, and lent a dignity to their 
 presoace, by his reverend and grave protection 4 
 
TII£ BRAVO. ISS 
 
 huodced gowlolai appwached tiaa p«rty, and aftor 
 as many fruitless eilbrts to penetrate the dis§:uises, 
 glided away, while whispers and tDt^rogatories 
 passed from one to the ottier, to learn the nanie and 
 station of the youthful beauty. At length, a gay 
 i)arkf "with waternnen in gorgeous liveries, and m 
 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 appealed 
 toat day with their gloomy-lookir^ and mysterious 
 pavilions, and saluted the manked fenrnks, with the 
 ease of one accustomed to all presences but with 
 the reserve of deep respect 
 
 " I have a £»vorite follower in this race,". he said 
 gallantly, ^ and one in whose dcill and Ibrce I put 
 great trust, Uatil now, I have uselessly sought a 
 lady of a beauty and merit so rare, as to warrant 
 that I should place his fortune oa her smiles. But 
 T seek no farther." 
 
 " You are gifted with a keen sight, Signore, that 
 you discover all you seek beneath these masks," re- 
 turaed one of the two females, while their compan- 
 ion, the Carnoelite, bowed graciously to the compli- 
 ment, wliich seemed little more than was warranted 
 by the usage of such scenes. 
 
 " There are other means of recognition than the 
 eyes, and other sour-oes t)f admiration than the 
 senses, lady. Conceal yourselves as you will, here do 
 I ^ow that J am near the fairest face, the warmest 
 heart, and the purest mind of Venice 1" 
 
 « This is bold -awgury, Signore," rbtumed she, who 
 was evidently the oldest etths 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 
 M 
 
134 THE BRAVO. 
 
 o Uie worship of the Creator than of the creature," 
 nurmured the monL 
 
 •' Some there are, holy father, who have admira 
 lion 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 place a heavier stake, wfere il 
 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 froiii 
 ^he 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," hurriedlv 
 
TtlE BRAVO. 135 
 
 observed Donna Florinda. " I wonder thai we 
 Rhould be known!" 
 
 "I should more wonder that wo were not. 1 
 cotdd recall the noble Neapolitan cavalier amid a 
 million ! Thou dost not remember all that I owe 
 to him !" 
 
 Donna Florinda did not answer; but, in secret 
 she 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- 
 ad the rencontre. 
 
 Prom 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 fresli and &ir, 
 Anticipating time with starting courage. 
 
 Shakstearb. 
 
 It has been seen that the gondolas, which were 
 tf 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 
 nod not been neglected, but his boat, like the others, 
 i'as attached to the larger barges to which this duty 
 
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 tho remarks 
 of which he was the subjectt ; and, as it is rare in 
 deed that our sensibilities do not survive oar better 
 fortune, even be was so far conscious of a fall as 
 ttot to be callous to contempt thus openly expressed. 
 He losjced nwistfnHy on every side of him, and seem- 
 ed to search, in every eye he enco^mtered, some 
 portion of the s}anpathy whicfa his meek and hum- 
 ble feelings still cra<?ed. But even die men ef his 
 caste and profession threw jibes upon his ear ; and, 
 thopgh of all the competitdis perhaps the one whose 
 motive most hallowed Jiis ambition, he was held to 
 be tlie 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 thi^ strife," observed 
 the former, when a fresh barst of jibes were show- 
 ered on the head of his unresisting associate. " Thou 
 hast not been sufficiently heedful of thy attire ; for 
 (his is a town of luxury, and he who wouM meel 
 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 thej 
 think ill of one who cannot share in their vanities 
 But, friend unknown, I have brought with me a face 
 
THE BRAVO 13"5 
 
 which, old though it be, and wrinkled, and worn by 
 the weather like the stones of the sea-shore, is un- 
 covered to the eye, and without shame." 
 
 " There may be reasons which thou knowest not, 
 why I wear a mask. But if my face be hid, the 
 limbs are bare, and thou seest there is no lack of 
 sinews to make good that which I have undertaken. 
 Thou should'st nave thought better of the matte*^ 
 ere thou puttest thyself in the way of so much mor- 
 tification. Defeat will not cause the people to treat 
 thee more tenderly." 
 
 " If my sinews are old and stiffened, Signor 
 Mask, they are long used to"toil. As to shame, if it 
 is a shame to be below tHe rest of mankind in for- 
 tune, it will not now come for the first time. A 
 heavy sorrow hath befallen me, and this race may 
 lighten the burthen of grief. I shall not pretend that 
 I hear this laughter, and all these scornful speeches 
 as one listens to the evening breeze on the Lagunes 
 — for a man is still a man, though he lives with 
 the humblest, and eats of the coarsest. But let it 
 pass ; Sant' Antonio will give me heart to bear it." 
 
 " Thou hast a stout mind, fisherman ; and I would 
 gladly pray my patron to grant thee a stronger arm, 
 but that I have much need of this victory myself. 
 Wilt thou be content with the second prize, if, by 
 any manner of skill, I might aid thee in thy eflbrts ? 
 — for, I suppose, the meteu of the third is as littie to 
 thy taste as it is to my own." 
 
 " Nay, I count not on gold, or silver." 
 
 " Can the honor of such a struggle awaken the 
 jjride of one like thee ?" 
 
 The old man looked earnestly at his companion,- 
 but he shook his head, without answer. Fresh mer 
 riment, at his expense, caused him to bend his fact- 
 towards the scoflfers ; and he perceived they were, 
 just then, passing a numerous group of his fellows 
 of the Lagunes, who seemed to feel that his unjusti- 
 M2 
 
138 THE BOAVO. 
 
 fiable ambition reflected, m seme degree, oq tke 
 Honor ef their whole body. 
 
 "Ht)w now, old Atatoniol" shouted the boldest 
 of the band-r-" is it not enough that thou ha^ won 
 the honors of the net, but thou would'st have a 
 golden oar ^t thy neek 2" 
 
 "We shall yet see him of the senate!" ci<^ a 
 second. 
 
 " He etandeth in need of the horned bonnet (oi 
 his naked head," continued a third. ■' We shall see 
 the brave Admiral Antonio, sailing in the Bucentiiur, 
 with the nobles of tkus land i" 
 
 Their sallies were succeeded fey coarse lai^bter. 
 Even the fair, in the balconies, were not uninfluenced 
 oy these constant jibes, and the app^reot discrepan 
 cy between the conditioa 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 elqsely 
 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 
 'hould one of thy years make the little tjme he has 
 ■ to stay bitter, by hearing tlie ridicule of his assp- 
 *iates for the rest of his life?"' 
 
 " St. Anthony did a greater wonder, when he 
 .caused the fishes to come upon the waters to hear 
 "lis preaching, and I will not show a cowardly 
 leart, at a moment when there js most need of r-eisp- 
 ution." 
 
 The masked waterman crossed himself devoutly; 
 *nd, relinquishing all further design to pearsuade the 
 rther to abandon the frjaitless contest, he gaye all his 
 Jioughts to his own interest in the coming struggle. 
 
 Tbe narrowness of most of the canals of Venioe 
 
TU£ BRAVO. 130 
 
 with the ix)auniei«ble angles and the oooetant pass- 
 ing, have given rise to a fashion of construction and 
 of rowing that £ire so peculiar to that city and its 
 immediate dependencies as to require some explana- 
 tion. The reader has doubtless already understooa 
 that a gondola is a long) narrow, and light boat, 
 adapteato the uses of the place, and distinct from 
 the wherries of all other town^ The distance be- 
 tween the dwellings, on most of the canals^, is so 
 small, that the width of the latter doep not admit of 
 the use of oars on both sides at the same time. The 
 necessity of constantly turning aside to give room 
 for others, and the frequency of the bridges and the 
 corners, have suggested the expediency of placing 
 the face of the waterman in the direction in which 
 the boat is steering, and, of couise, of keeping him on 
 his feet. As every gondola, when fully equipped, 
 has its pavilion in the centre, the height of the latter 
 renders it necessary to place him who steers on 
 such an elevation, as will enable him to overlook it. 
 From these several causes, a one-oared boat, in 
 V^enice, 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- 
 ■lily 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 
 tliere 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 m bumkin, raised 
 from the side of the boat, to the desired height, and 
 which, being formed of a crooked and very iriegu 
 lar knee ol wood, has two or three row-locks, one 
 above the other, to suit the stature of different ndi 
 
140 THE BRAVO. 
 
 vftluals, 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 
 difhculties 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- 
 ings, 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 of hu- 
 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. 
 
 " 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 
 
THE BRAVO 141 
 
 names have not been mentioned, and placed theni, 
 side by side, in the centre of the canal. 
 
 " Hero is place for thee, Signoie," 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 
 mto 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 oar, 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 
 othe, wise. 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 icadeth, 
 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 ibr the signal." 
 
 The assistant, who was in a strongly manned 
 boat, fell back a 'ittle, while i-unners, similarly 
 
14S TflE BWAVO 
 
 equipped^ ti^eat ahead to orttet- the curious from the 
 water. Thes6 preparatiorts were soarcigl^r wadey. 
 wheri a sighal floated on the nearest dome. It was 
 rep6atetl on the eampanite, and a gttn Was fifed at 
 the arsehaK A deep bat 9i^p*essed tnurmHf arose 
 in the throng, whicfl was as qtiiekly- succeeded by 
 suspense. 
 
 Each gondolier had suflfered the bdws of his boat 
 toincliHe slightly toward the teft shore ©I the einal, 
 as the jocfeey is seen, at th* st«rtiflg-pos1;, to turn hj» 
 courser aside, in order to repress its ardor, or divert 
 its Attentio». But the first long and broad sWefep 
 of the oar brought ibenl all hi a Kne again, and away 
 tbey glided in a body* 
 
 For the first few minutes thei'e was no difference 
 in speed, nor any sign by which the instructed B>igta 
 detect the probable evidence of defeat or success. 
 The whole ten, which formed the front line, skimrared 
 the water with an equal velocity, beak to beak, as if 
 some secret attraction held each in its p}ateie> white 
 the humble, though equally li^t bark of the fisher- 
 man steadily kept its position in the reaf. 
 
 The boats wem soon held in command. The 
 oars got their just^st poise and widest sweep, and 
 the wrists of the men accHstohied to thdr play. 
 The line began to waver. It undulated, the glitter' 
 ing prow of one protrtiding beyond tfce others ; and 
 then it changed its fbrto; Enrico of Fusina sfeot 
 ahead, and, privileged by success, he insensiWf 
 sheered more into the centre of the canal, avoMingv 
 by the change, the eddies, and the other obstructions 
 of the shore. This manoeuvre which, in the Ian* 
 guage of the course, would have beencaBed "takin* 
 the track," had the additional advantage of throwing 
 upon those who followed some trifling impediineai 
 from the back-water. The sturdy and pi'^tfeel 
 Bartolomeo of the Lido, as his companions usuafly 
 caned him, oaime next^ occupying the spacte on Ms^ 
 
THE BtlAVO. 143 
 
 leActer's qilftfter, trhere he suffered least from the 
 reaction catised by the stroke of his oar. The 
 gonddwr cf Don CamiMo-, also, soon shot oat of the 
 crowd, and was seen pfying his af ms t^igotWrily StiB 
 fafthet- to the tight, ahd a littte in the rear of Bar- 
 tolomeOi Then camcj in the centre of the canal, 
 and near as might be in the rear of the triutt»phant 
 warterman of the main, a dense bo«fy, vvith little order 
 and Varying positions, (ibtftpelling each other to give 
 \*ay, and otherwise increasing the diffleulties of 
 their struggle. More to the left, and so near to the 
 
 EftlaCes as barely to allow room' for the sweep of 
 is oar, was the tttasked eortipietitor, whose progress 
 seemed rdiartled by some unseen cause, for he 
 gfijdtKtHy feH belftind ail the Others, until several 
 bOAts' lengths of' opHi: Water lay between him and 
 even the group of his nameless oipponents. Still he 
 plied his arms steadily, and with sufficient skill. 
 As the interest of hnystery had been excited in his 
 fkvoi', a rumor passed up the canal, that the young 
 cavalier had beeit KttJe favored by fortune in the 
 choree 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- 
 petition with men whose daily labor had hardened 
 their sinews, and whose practice enabled them to 
 judge closely of eveify chance of the race. But 
 when the eyes of the multitude turned from the 
 cllister of passing boats to the solitary barge of the 
 fisherman, who came singly on in the rear, admira- 
 tion ^vas a^in turned to derision. 
 ' Antonio had cast Aside the cap he wore of won* 
 ^hd the few straggKng hairs that were left streamed 
 aljout hrs hoBoW temples, leaving the whole of his 
 iWarfhy features exposed to view. More than once, 
 as the gondola came on, his eyes turned aside re- 
 proachfully, as if he keenly felt the stings of so manV 
 unlicensed tOligutes 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 
 vva-s 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 ail other feelings. 
 
 Enrico still kept the lead; out 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 Calabiian was drawing 
 more into a line with them both. At this moment, 
 too, the masked competitor exhibited \ force and 
 skill that none had expected to see in one of his 
 supposed rank. His body was thrown more upon 
 the eflfort ol 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 
 
'nj£ BRAVQ. jl^ 
 
 led .murmurs of .applause. The consequence v^^ 
 •QO^i apparent. His gondola jglidjed pa^t the.c^owq, 
 .'m the centre of the canal, ana by ^.c^iaq^ d^at,v?ap 
 nearly insensible, he became jthe fourp p jtlie i^ace- 
 The ^houts whi<Jh rewarded J^us success h^ scarcely 
 .parted from i tb^ , multitufle, ere their adrnif atipn yva^ 
 calledrtp.fi neAy,an4 An ,€jptirely unexpected aspect 
 inj^ljefitiiyagle. 
 
 l^ljt ,^||iig(pwn exertions,, and 4es?,fmnoypd by 
 ,tb3.tt4e'?SMJp,^.nd,conten}pt ,\vhich often ,4efe?.t-ejf<!n 
 more generous exertions, Antonio had drawn nearer 
 to the crowd of nameless competitors, ^hpugh 
 undistinguished in thj^ narrative, there .were seen,.ip 
 that group of gondoUers, faces ,we)l known on th^ 
 canfils of Venice, as ibelonging ;to watermen, in 
 wljose dexterity and force the city tQok pride. 
 [I|ither .favored by his isolated position, or availing 
 himself of the embarrassment these men gave tp 
 each, other, ti^e despised, tisherman was seen a litt)^ 
 on thpi.r left, coming lup abreast, with a stroke and 
 velocity that pronfliscd.fart.her success. The e;^pep- 
 tation wap quickly realized. He passed theip all, 
 apajdadead and wondering silence, ancl tQqkhJs 
 station, as t fifth in the struggle. 
 
 Fromithis moment all interest in those who form- 
 ed the ivulgar mass was lost. Every eye was turned 
 tp.wards tne front, where the strife Increaspd-.at each 
 slffofee of the oar, and where the issue began to 
 a,?sume p.,new and doubtful .character. Tl?e ^''er- 
 tions of the waterman .qf Fusina ,v\fere seemingly 
 redoubled, though his boat went jfto faster. The 
 gftpdol?! of iPartolomeo ,s)iot past him; it was follow- 
 ed.lgr those of,Gjno.and the masked goijdoli^, while 
 jjotTa cry , betrayed the bii:eathless interest .qf^tW 
 ii^wUltwde- But ,when ,the -bpat pf Antonip ^p 
 Bwe-pi ahead, there arose such a. hw.Pf voices as 
 l^gc^pes^tJwopgrWhen a suddien,and,YJoleut chaflge 
 iiff I feeling is iprodtjcedi |n thek .way(W,ard ^ePtifflPO^?- 
 
146 THi; 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 Uned 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 and the Lido called upon 
 him, aloud, to die for the honor of their craft. Well 
 did the sturdy gondolier answer to their wishes, foi 
 palace after palace was left behind, and no furthei 
 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 shoots of the 
 niultitude, who now forgot his Calabrian orighi, in 
 his success, while ma«y of the serving-men of his 
 
THE BRAVO. 147 
 
 master, cheered him on, by name. All would not do. 
 The masked waterman, for the first time, threw the 
 grandeur of his skill and force into the oar. The 
 ashen instrument bent to the power of an arm, whose 
 strength appeared to increase at will, and the move- 
 ments of his body became rapid as the leaps of the 
 gravhound. The pliant gondola obeyed, and amid 
 a shout which passed from the Piazzetta to the 
 Rialto, it glided ahead. 
 
 If success gives force and increases the physical 
 and moral energies, ihere is a fearful and certain 
 reaction in defeat. The follower of Don Camillo 
 was no exception to the general law, and when the 
 masked competitor passed him, the boat of Antonio 
 'bllowed as if it were impelled by the same strokes. 
 The distance between the two leading gondolas 
 even now seemed to lessen, and there was a moment 
 of breathless interest, when all there expected to see 
 the fisherman, in despite of his years and boat, 
 shooting past his rival.' 
 
 But expectation was deceived. He of the mask, 
 notwithstanding his previous efforts, seemed to sport 
 with the toil, so ready was the sweep of his oar, so 
 sure its stroke, and so vigorous the arm by which it 
 'was impelled. Nor was Antonio an antagonist to 
 despise. If there was less of the grace of a prac 
 tised gondolier of the canals in his attitudes, than in 
 those of his companion, there was no relaxation in 
 the force of his sinews. They sustained him to the 
 last, with that enduring power which had been be- 
 gotten by threescore years of unremitting labor, and 
 whilahis still athletic form was exerted to the utmost, 
 there appeared no failing of its energies. 
 
 A few moments sent the leading gondo'as severa. 
 lengths ahead of their nearest followers. The dark 
 tjeafc of the fisherman's boat hung upon the quarter 
 of the more showy bark of his antagomst, but it 
 isouid do no more. The port was open before them 
 10 
 
148 THE BRAVO. 
 
 and itheyiglanced by. church, .palace, bargQ,«iy«tiQ^;, 
 and felucca, without the slightest inequality rin theii 
 relative ispeed. The masked waterman ^glanced ift 
 look behind, as if )to calculate his advantage, and 
 then bending (again to his)pliant oaj;, he (Spofa^, loud 
 enough ito ibe heard t&dy r-by ihim >who .pressB4>so 
 nard upon his track. 
 
 "Thou hast deceived me, fisherman!" he ^aidfj 
 "there is more of manhood in theie, ^t, >than Jihad 
 thought." 
 
 "ff (there is manhood in my arms,. there is child- 
 ishness and sorrow atlthe heart ;" was the reply. 
 
 "Dost thou so .prize %!golden bauble? Thou, art 
 «econd-; ibe content with thy lot." 
 
 "It will not do; !l must be foremost, or i rh»we 
 wearied niyrdld hmbs in .vain!" 
 
 This brief dialogue was uttered, ^with.anieaseithat 
 showed ihow, far use had accustomed both to, pow- 
 erful bodily efforts, I and with a firmness .qf. tones, 
 that few could have equalled, in a mom^t of so 
 gxeat physical -effort. The rmasker^was -silent,'hut 
 his (purpose seemed to waver. Twenty strokes of 
 his.poweivfill'oar^blade, and the goal .was attained.: 
 but his siBews were not.-so muchi6xtended,.and -that 
 limb, iwhich had ishown so fine a develK^pinjent.of" 
 muscle, was .less swoUen .and rigid. The gondolia 
 of old, Antonio glided abeam. 
 
 "Push thy soul into the blade;,". muttered ;he of 
 the mask," or thou wilt lyet be. beaten !" 
 
 The. fisherman Jthrew^e very effort of .fcss bodyon 
 theicoming effort,.and he gained a.fathom. Another 
 stroke < caused the boat: to quiver to: its i centre, and 
 the water curled, from its bows,:like'the rippIe,of la 
 rapid. Then the gondola i darted between, the ;two 
 goal-barges, and &b little flags that rmarked th0 
 point lof victory >fell into ithe water. • The. acjtiofl 
 wais scarce noted, ere the glittering .beak of the 
 masquer ishot .past stbe ^eyes pf the judg^. WIW 
 
TriM BR»va MS 
 
 #0nbfedi, for an mstant, on whom success hai. M\exL 
 Gino was not long behind, and after hin* came Bar 
 rolbmeo, fourth and last, in the- best-contested race 
 which had ever been seen on the waters of Venice 
 
 When the flags Mj. men held their' breaths in 
 sfuapengei Few kbbw the victor, so ctese bad been 
 the stnuggte; But a flcmidsA' (^ the frumpetfi soon 
 eommandfed attention, and then a' herald' proclaim- 
 ed, that- — 
 
 " Antonibj a fi^ermart of the Lagunes; favored 
 &y his- holjr patren of the Miraculous Efraught, had 
 borne away the prize of gold^ — ^while a waterman, 
 who wore his fecB' eonceaied, but who hath trusted 
 to the care of the blessed San GiDvaimi of the Wil- 
 derness, is worthy of ifte silVer prize, and that the 
 third- had fallen to- the' fortunes op Ginoof Calabria, 
 a servitor of the illttstyious Don CatniMb" M&wfortte, 
 Duca di Sant* Agata, and lord of many Neapolitan 
 Seienories." 
 
 When this formal announcemenl! 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 Antomo, as if they 
 celeb'Tated the success of some conqueror. All 
 feeling of contempt was fo'st in the influence' of his 
 triumph. The ffshermetir of the Lagunes, who so 
 lately had Foaded their aged companion- with- con- 
 tumely, shorated- for his glofyi with' a zeal that mani- 
 fested 1*ie viotence of we- tyansitiion from mortifica- 
 tion to pri^, and, as has' ever heea and ever will be 
 the meed ofsnccess, hewho was thought least likely 
 to obtain it was most greeted- wi* praise and adu- 
 fetion', when- it was found that the end li€rd' disap- 
 pointed expeetaiSon. 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 
 dimpse of the humble old man, who had so unex 
 N3 
 
150 THE BRAVO. 
 
 pectedly wrought this change of sentiment in the 
 feelings of a multitude. 
 
 Antonio bore his triumph meekly. When his 
 gondola had reached the goal, he checked its course, 
 and, without discovering any of the usual signs of 
 exhaustion, he remained standing, though the deep 
 heaving of his broad and tawny chest, proved 
 .hat his powers had been taxed to their utmost. He 
 smiled as the shouts arose on his ear, for praise is 
 grateful, even to the meek ; still he seemed oppress- 
 ed, with an emotion of a character deeper than 
 pride. Age had somewhat dimmed his eye, but it 
 was now full of hope. His features worked, and a 
 single burning drop fell on each rugged cheek. The 
 fisherman then breathed more freely. 
 
 Like his successful antagonist, the waterman of- • 
 the mask betrayed none of the debUity which usual- 
 ly succeeds great bodily exertion. His knees were 
 motionless, his hands still grasped the oar firmly, 
 and he too kept his feet with a steadiness that show- 
 ed the physical perfection of his frame. On the 
 other hand, both Gino and Bartolomeo sunk in their 
 respective boats, as they gained the goal, in succes- 
 sion ; and so exhausted was each of these renown- 
 ed gondoliers, that several moments elapsed before 
 either had breath for speech. It was during this 
 momentary pause that the multitude proclaimed its 
 hympathy with the victor, by their longest and 
 loudest shouts. The noise had scarcely died away, 
 however, before a herald summoned Antonio of the 
 Lagunes, the masked waterman of the Blessed St. 
 .John of the Wilderness, and Gino the Calabrian, to 
 the presence of the doge, whose princely hand was 
 to bestow the promised prizes of the regatta. 
 
THE BRAVO. 151 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 We sball not spend a large expense of time, 
 Before we reckon with your several lores, 
 And make as even witli you. 
 
 iUoc&etft 
 
 Whew the three gonddas reached the side of the 
 Bucentaur, the fisherman hung back, as if he dis- 
 trusted his right to intrude himself into the presence 
 of the senate. He was, however, commanded to 
 ascend, and signs were made for his two compan- 
 ions to follow. 
 
 The nobles, clad in their attire of office, formed 
 a long and imposing lane from the gangway to the 
 stern, where the titular sovereign of that still more 
 titular republic was placed, in the centre of the high 
 officers of the state, gorgeous and, grave in borrow- 
 ed guise and natural qualities. 
 
 "Approach," said the Prince, mildly, observing 
 that the old and half-naked man that led the victors 
 hesitated to advance. "Thou art the conqueror, 
 fisherman, and to thy hands must I consign the 
 prize." 
 
 Antonio bent his knee to the deck, and bowed his 
 head lowly ere he obeyed. Then taking courage, 
 he drew nearer to the person of the doge, where he 
 stood with a bewildered eye and rebuked mien, 
 waiting the further pleasure of his superiors. The 
 aged prince paused for stillness to succeed the slight 
 movements created by curiosity. When he spoKC, 
 it was amid a perfect calm. 
 
 " It is the boast of our glorious republic," he said, 
 '* that the rights of none are disregarded ; that the 
 lowly receive their merited rewards as surely as the 
 great ^ that St. Mark holds the balance with an even 
 
152 TJHE BRiWO 
 
 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 w'dre fhe' most favored follower of 
 our own house. Nobles and burghers of Venice, 
 learn to pfi'i^ ^fmY eifttiiWktii Arid ^tfjiialjlb laws in 
 this occasioff, for it is mosf; in acts of familiar and 
 common' u^iSge that the parental character of a 
 government is seen, since in matters of higher mo- 
 mei5t, theeyesiof a worM impel a>compM£ftie6*'^tb 
 its owri' opanionai" 
 
 The doge delivered iSiete preliminaTy i*eiriWfe"ih 
 a fiFhi'tonejilike one eonfident of his' aoditcfts' sfp- 
 plause. He- was not dbceived.' No sooner kaH he 
 done, than a murmur of approbation pas^' tfe"r60gh 
 the assembly, and' ei:!Ptended itself to th&uSf./id8 who 
 were beyond the souncP o^ his^ voice, and' tff tabte 
 who were b^ydndr tlie- reacb of his meaning. Thfe 
 senators' bent their head^ in ateknowledgment of the 
 justice of what their chief had uttered; £<nd' the' lat- 
 ter, having waited ta gather these sigMff oli ato sif- 
 proving* loyalty, proeeedfedi' 
 
 " It is- my duty, Antonib, andy being a dlity'yiil hath 
 become a plfeasure,' 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* bS' a 
 mark of the republic's fovor and impartiality,' and 
 ©f thy merit. Take it, then^ vigorous old man, for 
 though age hath thiiined thy templtes and furrowed 
 thy cheek, it hath scarce affected thy -wonderfel 
 sinews and hardy courage!" 
 
 "Highness!" observed Antonio, rncoiling apace, 
 when hei found that he was expeieted to stoopy in or- 
 der that the bauble might be be^xtifwedi." I am not fit 
 to bear abotit me such a sign of greatness and 
 good-fortune. The glitter of the gold worfd mock 
 Bay poverty, and a jewel, whiclf comes froi» so 
 
THE BRAVO. 153 
 
 priiusely a hand, would be ill placed on a naked bo- 
 som." 
 
 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 exch&nge 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 happiar 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- 
 ion." 
 
 "Highness!" said Antonio, looking earnestly a» 
 the doge, who ugain arrested his movement, in sur 
 
|S4 TttE iJRAVIj. 
 
 piisi, " t aih ofd', arid little? worit fo fe Spoflt hf lof 
 tune. For my wants, the Lagunes, with the favoi 
 of the Holy St. Anthohy, are suflieieht ; but it is in 
 thy power to make the last days of an old man hap- 
 py, and to have thy name rernembfered in marly au 
 hofi^ atid well-meant prayer. Grant me back my 
 child, forget the bdldneSs (k a heart-btoken fkthet !" 
 
 " Is ffot this he who ufged US with itttpartutiity, 
 Conciernin^ A yijuth that is gone into the seftrce of 
 the state ?'*^ exclaimed the prinCe, across •(!Fh6S6 
 ftountehdfaeb pdrSsfed that expi'es^bh o{ habitdal re- 
 Sefv^, -Which so often cohtidated tti^ feeliilgS of the 
 rtldn. 
 
 "The same," "returned a cold voice, which the 
 BEkr 6{ Antonio well knew came frorir the Signer 
 tekdenigo. 
 
 " Pity for thy ignorance, fisherman, represses onr 
 inger. Receive thy chain, and depart." 
 
 Antonio's eye did not Waver. He kneeled with 
 an air of profound respect, arid folding his hands 
 ori his bosom, he said-^^ 
 
 " Misiery has made me bbld, dread PriricS ! What 
 I Say domes frotn a heavy hBart, tatheK than from a 
 licehtidus tongue, and I pf ay yfcrtir royal ear to listeh 
 With indulgence." 
 
 " Speak briefly, for the sperts are delayed." 
 
 " Mighty Doge ! riches and povetty have' caused 
 a difference in our fortunes, which knowledge and 
 ignorance have made wider. I am rude in mf dis- 
 coutse, and little suited to this illustrious cdmpany. 
 But, Signbre, God hath given to the fisherhlatl the 
 Saine feelings, and the same love for his bffipring, 
 as he has given to a prince. Did I place depetift 
 Bhce only on the aid of my poor learning, I shonM 
 now be dumb, but there is a strength Withitt. that 
 gives m§ courage to speak to the first and noblest ih 
 Tpiite'0 in behalf of my child." 
 
 ? Thott ceifist flot impeach the senate's justice, tM 
 
THE BRAVO. 155 
 
 man, nor Htter aiKht, iw truth, against the Jtitown 
 aipartialfty of the Taws !" 
 
 "SorraHo 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 
 RimHM', and? stand in a presence even greater than 
 this. I am not vain enough to think that my hum- 
 We name is to be found %mong 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 sears on hiy Raff-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 
 owly vigorous branch from the dying trunk — they 
 have l(^)ped the withering stem of its most promis- 
 ing shoot — they have exposed the sole companion 
 of my labors and pleflsures, the child to whom I 
 tmve looked to close tny eyes, when it shall please 
 (5od to call me away, untaught, and young in les- 
 sons of honesty and virtue, a DOy in principle as in 
 years, to aH the temptation, and sin, and (fangerous 
 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 alf?" repeated Antonio, looking ajound 
 him in bitter melancholy. " Doge of Venice, it is 
 more than one, old, heart-stricken, and bereaved, 
 can bear!" 
 
 " Go to r take thy golden chain and oar, and de- 
 part among thy fellows in triumph. Gladden thy 
 heart at a victory, on which thou could'st not, in 
 reason, have counted, and leave the mterests of 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 profiered 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 immorahty 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 Hcensed 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 
 btep from the offered reward ; " if it be your gra- 
 cious will to grant a boon, for the success of the 
 
THE BRAVO. 161 
 
 regatta, I, too, have to pray that it may be given in 
 another foiin." 
 
 " 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." < . 
 
 " 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 otherj 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 
 petition, on.e 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, ^md 
 in naught oflended 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 tlie pallid 
 countenance and gUttering eyes of Jacopo. An in- 
 voluntary movement of all near, left this dreaded 
 O 
 
156 rm: AWtte. 
 
 of Venice, in a wide circle of wonderiflg' and cui"?- 
 CfQS listeners. 
 
 ' I kaow tbee not !"' exclaimed the ffoge, wfth ao 
 open amazement that proved his sinceritjfj. afer re- 
 garding the other eafuestly foi* a moment. **Thj^ 
 reasons (of the disguise shOvM be better thai* tl^ 
 reaso-tis for refo^Bg^the priKe.** 
 
 The Signer -Gradeniga drew near to the sover 
 eign, and whispered in his ear. When he had done, 
 the latter east oae look, ia *hich ci«1(4s}ty and aver- 
 sion were in singular union, at the marked connte- 
 HSfifc® of tbe Bravo> and' then, he silently motioned 
 tohjrat to depart. The throng drew about the royal 
 persera, wi^ instinctive readiness, closing the space 
 in his front. 
 
 "We shaH fook intothis^ at our leisttre," said the 
 doge. " Let the festivities proceed." 
 
 Jacopo bowed low, and withdrew. As he ttiovedi 
 fetong the de«k of the Bueentanr, 'Sie senators made 
 way, as if pestilence was in his path, thougk it 'was- 
 ipaite appajetft^ by. the espression of thdr meeSj'thai 
 a was in obedieace to a feeling <rf a mixed clwtrac- 
 ter. Thie avddedi btrt still tolerated Bravo descended 
 to his gondola, and the usual signals were gi^ven to' 
 the multitude beneath, who believed the cuStOtniafy* 
 ceremonies were ended. 
 
 "Let the gcmdolier of Don Cttmillo Monfort^ 
 stand forth," cried a heraM, obedient to the beck 
 of a superior. 
 
 "Mghneas, here;" answered Gmoj troubled and 
 liurried. 
 
 " Thou art of Calabria?" 
 
 " Higbnes3,'yes." 
 
 *'Ikit of long pnfaetioe on our Venetian eanals 
 av thy gondola cotdd never have outstripped those 
 of the readiest oarsmen.— Thoe servest a nobfe 
 •tiaster'l" " 
 
nn". BRAVO. f59 
 
 « Highwf^, yes." 
 
 "And it would seem llial the Ltelte <yf St ASSta 
 is happy in the posSesMcm of *n httnCSt attd Ibithfu] 
 follower!" 
 
 " Hi^hneas^ ioa happy " 
 
 " Kneelf add i«ceM># ^ tvf^t^f^ o( thy i^softition 
 and skiU." 
 
 Gino, (inlike tko^e #ft<¥ h&cf pfedtided hitti, belit a 
 willing kned to fhe deebf snd (tfok the pii%e with a 
 low and huiiiltle hielhiMion of thef body. At this 
 mofnent the arttention df Ihe s^eetatdfS w&* drawn 
 &om tktei short aMd sinipkr eiSremony by a loua shout, 
 which arose from the watef, at no gffM distartce 
 from-, the prl\Filefged' bark of the serttttft A comnion 
 wov«taetii (^eeinr ^4t to the side of the getltey, and the 
 gUceessful giMidoliAt wa^ qyiekly fdrgtutmtk 
 
 A hutidred beats were iriovifi^, ni &t)t)dyi towards 
 the LMd'f whiJd the gpsWie thifty coveretd on the watei- 
 pveseAted 6ti& eotnpatst mkas of tfi^ i-etf maps of 
 fishermen. In the midst of this Marine picttltft was 
 seeo the bare heid of A-titoniot hd^M Hhyng' in the 
 floating rtHdtitQde^ wkhctuf Mf efibrt Of hiir own. 
 The general impulsion was received from th^^gof 
 ous arms of some thirty or forty of their number, 
 who towed those in the rear by applying' their fiwce 
 to thtrfte or foor t»f^ goiidoks in ddta«%e: 
 
 There was no MSistAkihg' the object of this sin- 
 gular anid letetric^risfiG protiessi&n. The tenants 
 of the Lagufles, with the fickleness with which ex- 
 treme igtioruice acts on human ptissionsj had sud- 
 denly BXperieft6ed * violent revolution . in their 
 leelings towards their afident coMfade. He who, 
 on honr before, had been derided as a vain and ridi 
 cuIotiKr or^tBndef* and on wfiioge bead bitter hnpre^ 
 catioflfl aad be^ so tavishly poiited, was now l^iKled 
 with cries of triumph. 
 
 The gondoliers of the canaft) wet« fttughed to- 
 icorn, «ni tte ears of even the haughty n()bfes were 
 
160 THE BRAVO. 
 
 not respected, as the exulting band taunted theii 
 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 ana 
 inseparably connected with the glory and exultation 
 of all. ' 
 
 Had the triumph of the fisherman confined itself 
 to this natural and commonplace exhibition, it woulil 
 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 appei^l, 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 
 suence. 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 tlje 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 
 
unmolested, though here and there a gondola was 
 seen stealing towards the Lido, bearing certain of 
 those secret agenlfe'of tfie* pdlitfe whose duty it was 
 to forewarn the existina powers of the presence of 
 danger Among the Tatter was the boat of the 
 wine-seller, which departed from the Piazzetta, con- 
 tttining a stock (Df hiB- nSerchandisftiv with; iSniiina, 
 under the) pMettbe of making his^ piMV out of l^e 
 present tttAtileWt' flemper t)f their- ordinary custtem- 
 era. In the mean time^. thei sport« ppooeederf,' and 
 die mometttaTy intWfH^oflf -v^m forgtftwsh y dr, if 
 *emembfer«(*vit -(vas-ina marmerduited Wthe secret 
 and fearfuli po^er whi»irfi' di¥eGt»d ifee' dieetMiies of 
 (!hat remarkable r^ptiblic,/ 
 
 Thftre was' artotftef i'ftgisitta,.in)whiiish meti^ (rf infe- 
 rior powers contteftded ; but we deem' it uftwowthy 
 t»' detain the harrative liy a description.. 
 
 THou^ the gm^W tenants of the Bucewtaar seen.- 
 ed to take' an; ihterest jhi wha« was' passing iimmedi 
 ately before theii* eyete* they had ears for ever) 
 shout that was borne on the evening breeze from 
 the distant Lid6 ; and More' than once the" dege' him- 
 self was' seeri to^ bend his look's^ in' that direction, in 
 a manner which betrayed tine ooncern that was 
 Hppeymost in his mmd. 
 
 Still iSle day passed on' as ususfl. The coflc(uerors 
 triumphed, ihe' crowd applandedi and th© collected 
 senate appea^red- to sympathise with the pleasures 
 of a people, ovpr whom they ruled with a certainty 
 of power that i»eaemblied the fearM and myswci&m 
 afiarch of desflliny: 
 
 OS 
 
162 THE BRAVO. 
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " Wliieh ia the merchant here, and which the Jew ?" 
 
 SHAKSrEAEE. 
 
 The evening of such a day, in a city with the 
 habits of Venice, was not likely to be spent in the 
 dullness of retirement The great square of St. 
 Mark was again filled with its active and motley 
 crowd, and the scenes already described in the 
 opening chapters of this work, were resumed, if pos- 
 sible, with more apparent devotion to the levities of 
 the hour, than on the occasion mentioned. The 
 tumblers and jugglers renewed their antics, the cries 
 of the fruit-sellers and other venders of light luxuries 
 were again mingled with the tones of the flute and 
 the notes of the guitar and harp, while the idle and 
 the busy, the thoughtless and the designing, the con- 
 spirator and the agent of the police, once more met 
 m privileged security. 
 
 The night had advanced beyond its turn, when a 
 gondola came gliding through the shipping of the 
 port, with that easy and swan-hke motion, which is 
 peculiar to its slow movement, and touched the quay 
 with its beak, at the point where the canal of St. 
 Mark forms its junction with the bay. 
 
 " Thou art welcome, Antonio," said one, wtio ap- 
 proached the solitary individual that had directed 
 the gondola, when the latter had thrust the iron spike 
 of his painter between the crevices of the stones, as 
 gondoliers are accustomed to secure their barges; 
 " thou art welcome, Antonio, though late." 
 
 " I begin to know the sounds of that voice, though 
 they come from a masked face," said the fisherman, 
 ■'Friend, I owe iny success to-day to thy 'kindness, 
 and though it has not had the end for which I had 
 both hoped and prayed, I ought not to thank thee 
 
THE BRAVO. 163 
 
 Jess. Thou hast thyself been borne hard upon by 
 the world, or thou would'st not have bethought thee 
 of an old and despised man, when the shouts of tri- 
 umph were ringing in thy ear, and when thy own 
 young blood was stirred with the feelings of pride 
 and victory." 
 
 "Nature gives thee strong language, fisherman. 
 I have not passed the hours, truly, in the games and 
 levities of my years. Life has been no festa to me — 
 but no matter. The senate was not pleased to hear 
 of lessening the number of the galleys' crew, and 
 thou wilt bethink thee of some other reward. I have, 
 here, the chain and golden oar in the hope that it 
 will still be welcome." 
 
 Antonio looked amazed, but, yielding to a na>tural 
 Rurioslty, he gazed a moment with a longing at the 
 prize. Then, recoiling with a shudder, he uttered 
 moodily, and with the tones of one whose determi- 
 nation was made : " I should think the bauble coined 
 of my grandchild's blood ! Keep it : they have trust- 
 ed it to thee, for it is thine of right, and now that 
 they refuse to hear my prayer, it will be useless to 
 all but to him who fairly earned it." 
 
 " Thou makest no allowance, fisherman, for differ- 
 ence of years and for sinews that are in their vigor. 
 Methinks that in adjudging such a prize, thought 
 should be had to these matters, and then wouldest 
 thou be found outstripping us all. Holy St. Theo- 
 dore ! I passed my childhood with the oar in hand, 
 and never before have I met one in Venice who has 
 driven my gondola so hard! Thou touchest tlie 
 water with the delicacy of a lady fingering her harp, 
 and yet with the force of the wave rolling on the 
 Lido!" 
 
 "I have seen the hour, Jacopo, when even thy 
 
 young arm would have tired, in such a strife between 
 
 us. That was before the birth of my eldest son, who 
 
 iied in battle with the Ottoman, when the dear boy 
 
 11 
 
(6^ -fHE" BRAT^O. 
 
 SaVirest thfc' confeiy kdl gootf Jacdprt'?'" 
 
 "I viras^not so haf)py, old' mail ;' But' if he rfc^e?mbfed 
 tftee, -Well' fflayest th6\i- mourri his" loss. Body of Di- 
 Elna ! I hfstt^e' BMe cause to boast off the small advan- 
 tage youth and strength gave me." 
 
 '"The*e v*as^ force' within' thaf bofie me- and" the 
 boat on^-btft of wliiat use' hath it been? Thy Rihd- 
 ness, and tfhe pain given to' an 6M frame, that hath 
 been long racked by hardship- anrf poverty, are both 
 thrown away oft' the i-ocliy hearts of the> rioft'fes;" 
 
 "We know not yet', Antonio. The good' saintk 
 will heai< our prayers, when vve Ifeast think' they ate 
 listening. Come with me, for I am sent to seek thee." 
 
 The fisherman' regardbd' his new a'cquaintance 
 with surprise, and theft' turning to beStoW au' insfatn 
 of habitual care on his boat, he cheerfiiUy professed 
 himself ready to proceed. The place where thefy 
 stood was a little a'pa'rt from the thoroughfare of the 
 quays, and though there vpas a brilliant moon, the 
 circumstance of two mew, in their garbs, being there, 
 was not likely to attract observation; Btrt JactKpo 
 did not appear to be satisfied' with this security froiii 
 remark. He waited until Antonib had' left the gon- 
 dola, and, then, unfolding a cloak, which had' lain on 
 his arm, he threw it, witfiout asking permission, ovei 
 the shoulders of the other. A cap, like that he wore 
 himself, was next produced, and being- pfecetf on (he 
 gray hairs of the fisherman, effectuairy cohipleted 
 his metamorphosis. 
 
 " There is no need of a mask,** he- said, examining 
 his' companion attentively, when his task was atf- 
 eompfished. "None would know thee, Antonio, ill 
 this garb." 
 
 '' And is' there need of what thou hast done, Ja- 
 tiopo T 1 owe thee thanks for a well-meant, and, but 
 for the hardness of heart of the rich and powerfBfj 
 for what would have proved, a great kindness: StiD 
 
vim mAvo. m^ 
 
 1 mum ^U thee;that aiw^k was nev^r yfit put \vsf(av 
 my face; for what reason can thene he, ,why,one 
 who .rises with the sun to go to his Uii\> swd who 
 tfusteth to the favor of .the hlessftiSt. J^nthony:,fQr 
 the Utde he hath, ishould go abroad jike, a, gallant 
 (fwdy to steal the good name of ,a>vi^gin,,oril1rQl>- 
 be^ atifflight'!" 
 
 ••* Thou Iknowest our Venetian custoni, .and it, may 
 heweU to use some cautiqo* in ithe ibusiness we are 
 on." 
 
 " Thou forgettesitithait thyintention >is yet.a secret 
 ti& me. Iisay it again, and J say it with truth and 
 gratitude, that I ,owe thee many thanks, ,though the 
 audits defeated, anditheboy is^tiH a .prisoner .in the 
 floatingischoQl of iwiokednessrT— but,thou hast.a,name, 
 Jacopo, that I could wish did iUQt belong to thee. I 
 find itihard tobelieveiall that they have.tliisilay said, 
 onitheiLido, of one who has so mu-chfeqling forithe 
 weak and wrongpdi" 
 
 The Bravo ceased to ac^ust the ^disiguise.of ,his 
 companion, and the (profound >stillness which isuo 
 ceededihis remarktiprovedso painful.to Antqnio,.that 
 he feUilike one reprieved from ^ufTocatJon, when.be 
 heaird the deep ir^spirataonthat-annoHnced, the relie*" 
 of his eompaaiiQto. 
 
 "il would inot-wilUngly say— " 
 
 "No matter," interrupted Jacopo, w a thoUaw 
 voice- ''No rmatter, ifisherman; we wiU speak of 
 these ithings on some other oiscasion. At present, 
 fo]loiw,i«ndrbe ailenf." 
 
 (As ke oem.e>d, the iSslf-appfliQted>gwide>of Antonio 
 bedkonedifor the latter to. come on, when he. led the 
 .way.fromtthe water-side. The fisherman obeyed- 
 for utile ididrit matter tOr one pQor.and heart-stricken 
 as ihe, whither ihe- was iCondwcted. , Ja^^opo took the 
 .first eutmnce into rthe , cou«t of , the djifge's palace. 
 JHis footstep was ;leisurely,.a«drto the .passing multi- 
 tude ,tlwy,appe8«ied.lilie'apy<«)th«ri^ of .the, thfiHSWWi* 
 
166 THE BRAVO. 
 
 who were abroad to breathe the soft air of the night 
 or to enter into the pleasures of the piazza. 
 
 When within the dimmer and broken light of the 
 court, Jacopo paused, evidently to scan the persons 
 of those it contained. It is to be presumed he saw 
 no reason to delay, for with a secret sign to his 
 companion to follow, he crossed the area, and 
 mounted the well-known steps, down which the head 
 of the Faliero had rolled, and which, from the sta- 
 tues on the summit, is called the Giant's Stairs. The 
 celebrated mouths of the lions were passed, and they 
 were walking swiftly along the open gallerj', when 
 they encountered a halberdier of the ducal guard. 
 
 " Who comes ?" demanded the mercenary, throwi 
 ing forward his long and dangerous weapon. 
 " Friends to the state and to St. Mark." " 
 " None pass, at this hour, without the word." 
 Jacopo motioned to Antonio to stand fast, while 
 he drew nearer to the halberdier and whispered. 
 The weapon was instantly thrown up, and the sen- 
 tinel again paced the long gallery, with practised in- 
 difference. The way was no saoner cleared than 
 they proceeded. Antonio, not a little amazed at 
 what he had already seen, eagerly followed his guide, 
 for his heart began to beat high with an exciting, 
 but undefined hope. He was not so ignorant of hu- 
 man affairs as to require to be told, that those who 
 ruled would some time concede that in secret, which 
 policy forbade them to yield openly. Full, therefore, 
 of the expectation of being ushered into the pres- 
 ence of the doge himself, and of having his child 
 restored to his arms, the old man stepped lightly 
 along the gloomy gallery, and darting through an 
 entrance, at the heels of Jacopo, he found himself 
 at the foot of another flight of massive steps. The 
 route now becameconfused to the fisherman, for, 
 quitting the more public vomitories of the palace, his 
 Rompanion held his way by a secret door, through 
 
THE BRAVO. 167 
 
 many dimly lighted and obscure passa&res. They 
 ascended and descended frequently, as ouen quitting 
 or entering rooms of but ordinary dimensions and 
 decorations, until the head of Antonio was completely 
 turned, and he no longer knew the general diiection 
 of their course. At length they stopped, in an apart- 
 ment of inferior ornaments, and of a dusky color, 
 which the feeble light rendered still more gloomy. 
 
 " Thou art well acquainted with the dwelling of 
 our prince," said the fisherman, when his companion 
 enabled him to speak, by checking his swift move- 
 ments. " The oldest gondolier of Venice is not 
 more ready on the canals, than thou appearest to be 
 among these galleries and corridors." 
 
 " 'Tis my business to bring thee hither, and what 
 I am to do, I endeavor to do well. Antonio, thou 
 art a man that feareth not to stand in the presence 
 of the great, as this day hath shown. Summon thy 
 courage, for a moment of trial is before thee." 
 
 " I have spoken boldly to the doge. Except the 
 Holy Father, himself, what power is there on earth 
 beside to fear?" 
 
 " Thou mayest have spoken, fisherman, too boldly. 
 Temper thy language, for the great love not words 
 of disrespect." 
 
 "Is truth unpleasant to them?" 
 
 " That is as may be. They love to hear their own 
 acts praised, when their acts have merited praise, 
 but they do not like to hear them condemned, even 
 though they know what is said to be just." 
 
 " I fear me," said the old man, looking with sim- 
 pHcity at the other, "there is little difference be- 
 rween the powerful and the weak, when the gar- 
 ments are stripped from both, and the man stands 
 naked to the eye." 
 
 " That truth may not be spoken here." 
 
 " How ! Do they deny that they are Christiansj 
 luui mortals, and sinners r' 
 
IM •KHE BKAVO. 
 
 w^hey jmake a merit .of jthe ifirst, iintonio — tbey 
 kxxgpX )th^ second,, and :tKeyiiieivef like tto be cabled 
 (Jie.Jast, by any but th^mselives/' 
 
 >'I, doubt, Jacopo,;afteriall,if JigetrfroBQ them the 
 freedom of the sboy." 
 
 ".Speakthem fair, and say naught to iwound their 
 selftesteena, or to menace (their authority — ^they will 
 pardon much, if the: last, in particular, be respected. 
 
 "But iit is that authority iwhich (has taken away 
 my child! iGanitspeaicfin-fevor of the power whioh 
 I know to be.unjiKt;?" 
 
 " Thou must feign;it,.orithy suit cwill fail;" 
 
 '"J willtgoibackito (the Lagunes,igQod Jacopo, fai 
 this tongue of mineihath ever moved ;at (the bidding 
 of (the ihesirt. il fear rLam too old to say that a sod 
 may righteously be torn (from ithe^father by'violeneet 
 3?ell?tfem, thou, ifrom me, that I came ithus far, in 
 order to ido^hem '/respect, ibut, that > seeing the hope- 
 lessness of beseedhing further, I have gone jto my 
 nstSj.aad.to myjprayers to blessed;St. Anthomy!" 
 ■ As he oeaised speaking, Antonio (wrqng the hand 
 of his motionless companion, and turned away,;aiS 
 if (to retire. Two ifaalbOTds fell: to rthe ilevel of 'bis 
 bj^ast, ere (his lfoothfid.<juitt€d the piarble ifloor, land 
 he now saw, for the first time, that armed^menciuoss- 
 ed his passage, and that, iin truth,; he ■ was a. prisoner. 
 Nature (had. endowed itherfishernian with a quick and 
 just perception, andlong habithad 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, hei again 
 tOTned ito Jacopo with an air of patience and resign 
 nation. 
 
 "It must be that (the illustrious Signore wish todo 
 me justice," he said, smoothing the remnant of his 
 hair, as men of rhis -elass prepaire themselves for the 
 preaSBQe-of theifr > superiors, -^s' and it would not be 
 decent, in an humble fisherxnaai,! to -refuse them*die 
 
THE BRAVO. 169 
 
 opportunity. It would be better, however, if there 
 were less force used here in Venice, in a matter of 
 simple right and wrong. But the great lOve to show 
 their power, and the weak must submit." 
 
 "We shall see!" answered Jacopo, who had 
 manifested no emotion during the abortive attempt 
 of the other to retire. 
 
 A profound stillness succeeded. The halberdiers 
 maintained their rigid attitudes, within the shadow 
 of the wall, looking Tike two insensible statues, in the 
 attire and armor of the age, while Jacopo and his 
 companion occupied the centre of the room, with 
 scarcely more oi the appearance of consciousness 
 and animation. It may be well to explain, here, to 
 the reader, some of the peculiar machinery of the 
 state, in the country of which we write, and which 
 is connected with the scene that is about to follow : 
 for the name of a republic, a word which, if it mean 
 any thing, strictly implies the representation and su- 
 premacy of the general interests, but which has so 
 frequently been prostituted to the protection and 
 monopolies of privileged classes, may have induced 
 him to believe that there was, at least, a resemblance 
 between the outlines of that government, and the 
 more just, because more popular, institutions of his 
 own country. 
 
 In an age, when rulers were profane enough to 
 assert, and the ruled weak enough to allow, that the 
 right of a man to govern his fellows was a direct 
 gift from God, a departure from the bold and selfish 
 Drinciple, though it were only in profession, was 
 thought sufficient to give a character of freedom 
 and common sense to the polity of a nation. This 
 belief is not without some justification, since it es- 
 tabUshes in theory, at least, the foundations of gov- 
 ernment on a base sufficiently different from that 
 which supposes all power to be the property of one, 
 and that one to be the repres^itative of the faultless 
 
 P 
 
iW . THE BRAVQ 
 
 and omnipotent Rider of the Universe. With the 
 first of these prinGiples we have Kottoing to dov ex- 
 cept it be to add that th^ire are propositions so iiihe- 
 rently false that they only require to be fairly stated 
 to produce their own refutation ; but our subject ne- 
 cessarily, draws us into a febort digression on the 
 errors of the second, as they existed in Venice;- 
 
 It is probable that when the patticiams of St. 
 Mark created a conimunity of polittbal rights in 
 their own body, they believed their state had dbh* 
 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 lastj tvh© 
 have imagined that to take the incipient stieips in ^ 
 htical 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 pagftantv 
 she boldly laid daim to be called a republic. She 
 believed that a representation of the most promittie*t 
 and brilliant interests in society was the paratnoiiiil 
 object of government^ and, faithful to the sfedU0ti\«> 
 but dangerous, error, she mistook to the feistv coHee- 
 tive power for sociaj happiness. 
 
 It may be taken as a governing priw^iptev in all 
 civil relations, that the strong, will grow stronger, 
 and the feeble more weak^ imtil the first become Un- 
 fit to rule, or the last unable to endure. In this iWi- 
 portant truth is co&tained the secret of the dowrifali 
 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 bas6 
 shall have a breadth capable of securing the ju^ 
 representation of every interest, without which the 
 social machine is liable to interruption from its own 
 BaoVement, and eventually to destruction frofn it* 
 own excesses. 
 
 Vtotce, though ambitious and <tenacious «(f 1l» 
 
THE BRAVO. 171 
 
 name of a republic, was, in truth, a nariow, a vul- 
 gar, and an exceedingly heartless dJgarchy. To the 
 former title she bad no other claim mao her deniaJ 
 of the naked principle already mentioned, while hei 
 practice is hable to the reproach of the two latter, 
 in the uiunanly and naiTow character of its exclu- 
 sion, in every act of her foreign policy, and in 
 every measure of her internal police. An aristocra- 
 cy must ever want the h|gh personal feeling which 
 often tempers despotism by the qualities of the 
 chief, or the generous and human impulses of a 
 popular rule. It has the merit of substituting things 
 for men, it is true, but unhappily it substitutes the 
 things of a few men for those of the whole. It par- 
 takes, and it always has partaken, though necessa^ 
 rily tempered by circumstances and the opinions oi 
 diferent ages, of the selfishness of all corporations, 
 in which the responsibility of the individual, while 
 his acts are professedly suomitted to the temporizing 
 expedients of a collective interest, is lost in the sub- 
 division of numbers. At the peiiod of which we 
 wxite, Italy had several of these self-styled common- 
 wealths, in not one of which, however, was thratte 
 ever a. fair and just confiding of power to the body 
 of the people, though perhaps liiere is not one that 
 has not been ciied, sooner or later, in proof of the 
 inability of man to govern himself! In order to 
 demonstrate the fallacy of a reasoning, which is so 
 fond of predicting theidownfall of our own liberal sys- 
 tem, supported by examples drawn from trans-atlan- 
 tic states of the middle ages, it >s necessary only to re- 
 count here, a httle in detail, the forms in which power 
 was obtained and exercised, in the most important 
 of them aJL 
 
 Distinctions in rank, as separated entirely from 
 the will of the nation, formed the hasis of Venetian 
 polity. Authority, though divided, was not less a 
 QUi tbrighit, than in those governments in which it wau 
 
172 THE BRAVO. 
 
 Dpenly 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 secorid 
 selection was made, which was known as the Coun- 
 
•nm BRAVO. 173 
 
 sil of Ten, and to which much of the execuiiva 
 Dower, that aristocratical jealousy withheld froirt 
 the titular chief of the state, was confided. To 
 this point the political economy of the Venetian re- 
 public, however faulty, had at least some merit for 
 simplicity and frankness. The ostensible agents of 
 the administration were known, and though all real 
 responsibility to the nation was lost, in the superioi 
 influence and narrow pplicy of the patricians, the 
 rulers could not entirely escape from the odium that 
 public opinion might attach to their unjust or illegal 
 proceedings. But a state, whose prosperity was 
 chiefly founded on the contiibution and support of 
 dependants, and whose existence was equally men- 
 aced by its own false principles, and by the growth 
 of other and neighboring powers, had need of a still 
 more efficient body, in iTie absence of that executive 
 which its own republican pretensions denied to 
 Venice. A political inquisition, which came in 
 time to be one of the most fearful engines of police 
 ever known, was the consequence. An authority, 
 as irresponsible as it was absolute, was periodically 
 confided to another and still smaller body, which 
 met and exercised its despotic and secret functions, 
 under the name of the Council of Three. The 
 choice of these temporary rulers was decided b}' 
 lot, and in a manner that prevented the result from 
 being known to any but to their own number, and 
 to a few of the most confidential of the more per- 
 manent officers of the government. Thus there 
 existed, at all times, in the heart of Venice, a mys- 
 terious and despotic power, that was wielded by 
 men who moved in society unknown, and apparent- 
 ly surrounded by all the ordinary charities of life • 
 but which, in truth, was influenced by a set of polit- 
 ical maxims, that were perhaps as ruthless, as tyran- 
 nic, and as selfish as ever were invented by the evil 
 ingenuity of man. It was, in short, a power thai 
 P2 
 
174 THE BRAVO 
 
 could only be ' intrusted, without abuse,, to infaUiiide 
 virtue and infinite imtefligence, using the terms in a 
 sense limited by human means ; and yet it was here 
 confided to men, whose title was founded on the 
 double accident, of birth — and the colors of balls, 
 and by whom it was wielded, without even th 
 check of publicity^ , 
 
 The Council of Three met in secret, ordinarily 
 issued its decrees without communicating with any 
 other body, and had them enforced with a fearful- 
 ness of mystery, and a suddenness of execution, 
 that resembled the blows of fate. The doge himself 
 was not superior to its authority, nor protected from 
 its decisions, while it has been known that one of the 
 privileged three has been denounced by his compan- 
 ions. There is still in existence a long list of the 
 state maxims which this secret tribunal recogmzed 
 as its rule of conduct, and it is not saying too much 
 to affirm, that they set at defiance every other con- 
 sideration but expediency, — all the recognized laws 
 of God, and every principle of justice, which is es- 
 teemed among men. The advances of the human 
 intellect, supported by the means of publicity, may 
 temper the exercise of a similar irresponsible power, 
 in our own age, but in no country has this substitu- 
 tion, of a soulless corporation for an elective repre- 
 sentation, been made,, in which a system of rule has 
 not been established, that sets at naught the laws of 
 natural justice and the rights of the citizen; Any 
 pretension to the contrary, by placing profession 
 in opposition to practice, is only adding hypocrisy 
 to usurpation. 
 
 It appears to be an unavoidable general conse- 
 quence that abuses should follow, when power is ex- 
 ercised by a permanent and irresponsible! body, 
 from whom there is no appeal. When this power 
 IS secretly exercised, the abuses become still more 
 gravea ' It is also worthy of remark, that in the na- 
 
THE BRAVO. 175 
 
 tions which submit, of he^ve sqhnMttet) toi these un- 
 due and dangerous influences, the pretensions to 
 justice and generosity are of the most exaggerated 
 character i for while the fearless democrat vents 
 his personal complaints aloud, and the voice of the 
 subject of professed despotism i^ smothered entirely 
 necessity itself dicte^tes to the oligp.rchist thfi policy 
 of seemliness, as otie pf the Qonditipn^ of his own 
 safety. Thup Venice, prided herself qr the justice 
 of St. Mark, and few states piaintained a greater 
 show, or put forth a more loftjf^ clairn to the posses- 
 sion of the sacrsed quality, th^n that whose real 
 maxims of goyi.inment were veiled in a mystery 
 that even the 1qo§§ morality pf the age exacted 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 " A power that if but named 
 In cuBual converets, be it where it might, 
 The speaker lowei'd, at once, his voice, his eytsa. 
 And pointed upward as at God in heaveia." 
 
 RnoERS. 
 
 The reader has probably anticipated, that Anto- 
 nio was now standing in an antechamber of the 
 secret and stern tribunal, described in the preceding 
 chapter. In common with all of his class, the fish- 
 erman had a vague idea of the existence, and of the 
 attributes, of the council before which he was to ap- 
 pear; but hip simple apprehension was far from 
 compFehending the extent, or the nature, of func- 
 tions that equally took cognizance ot the most im- 
 portant interests of the republic, and of the more 
 trifling concerns of a patrician family, WhJle con 
 jfictures on the probable result of the expected in 
 ^erview were passing through his mind, an inner 
 
1/6 THE BRAVO. 
 
 door opened, and an attendant signed for Jacopo to 
 advance. 
 
 The deep and imposing sDence 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 councik 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 theii 
 forms, prevented all recognition of their persons 
 Chie 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 tnese, 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 
 ••egarded the scene like one accustomed to its effect 
 though with evident reverence and awe; but the 
 
THE BRAVO 177 
 
 unpreflsion 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 iijtentjy w^tph^ 
 ing his countenance during its continuance. 
 
 " Thou 3.rt called Antonio, of the Lagunes?" de- 
 mtiod^d one of the 9»<^etM'vB» ne^ the t$hle, when 
 a sign held hfte» seer^ly tnndi frorn t^e crirnson 
 member of tha^ fefiirfui tribunal, tp proceoii,. 
 
 " A poo» ^shemij^n, slcelfenz^, vrko i^wes much 
 to blessed Saint Antonio of the Miraculous Drstjght" 
 
 *' And thou hast a son ^yho bears thine p^vn name, 
 and who follows th? same pursuit?" 
 
 " It is the duty of a Christian to submk to tl>e will 
 of God ! My boy has been dead twelve years, come 
 (he cay when the republic's gajleys chasiejBt the infi- 
 del from 'Qorfja to Candia. He was slain, noble Sig> 
 nore with many others of his calling, ic> th^J bloody 
 fight" 
 
 There was a mwejja^nt of surprise among the 
 elerks, who whispered t^jgether, and appeared to 
 examine the pajifr^ in their hands, with some has^e 
 and coi^ift^ion. Q'tanc^ were sent back at the 
 judges, who sate motionless, wrapped in t^ i<inpen- 
 etpable jijysteiy of their functions. A secret sign, 
 however, soon caused the armed attendants of the 
 place to lead Antonio and his jQompjani©^ from the 
 room. 
 
 " Here is some inadverlency !" ssud a stj^n voice, 
 ft'om one of the masked Three, so soon as the fall 
 of tlhjS footsteps of those who retired was po longer 
 '^tidi^s. ff U is flpt seemly that the inqjyisitioji pf St. 
 I^ai^c should show this ignorance." 
 
 " It touches inerely the family of an obscure fish- 
 erman, Uli(Jstrious Signore," returned the itremUing 
 4ep^dant ; " and it may be that his art would wish 
 o decj^ve us in the opening interrogatories." 
 
 « Thou art in error," interrjjipteid another of tlw 
 
178 TIIK RllAVO. 
 
 Tliroe. " The man is named Antonio Veechio, 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 famiUarly 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 elbovv, 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, 
 yvho is a good and pious lad, that seldom casts a line 
 
THE BRAVO I'yO 
 
 nto the water, without an ave or a prayer to St. 
 Atilhony, and who has never given nre uneasiness, 
 antil 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 ?" 
 
 " 1 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 re ^ntta 
 in an unseemly garb, and placed thyself foremost 
 with those who contended for the favor of the senate 
 and its prince?" 
 
 " I came in the garb which I wear befoie 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, 
 12 
 
180 THE BRAVO. 
 
 or curiosity, among the inquijsitors, and once mora 
 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 criine, illustrioiB senator, to have pitied 
 an old man who mourned for his ofispriograndto 
 have given up my own solitary triumph to hij» love 
 for the boy, I am guilty.'-' 
 
 Tb^ce was a long and silent pause after this re,^y. 
 Jacopo haid spoken with habitual reverence, but with 
 the grave composure that appeared to entelr deeply 
 into the cora^sitiooi of his cbaiacter. The pale- 
 ness of the eheek 'h^s the same; and the glowing 
 eye, which so singularly lighted and aramated a 
 countenance that possessed a hue not unlike that of 
 death, scarce varied its gase, while he answered. 
 A secret sign caused the secreftary to proceed with 
 his iduty. ^ . 
 
 " And thou owest thy success in liie T^aita, An- 
 tonio, to the favor of thy cot»petitor-^-l».who is now 
 with thee, in the f>resraice of the council i" 
 
 " Under San Teedero and St Antonio^ dae dtylt 
 patron and my own." 
 
 " And thy whole desire was to urge again thy re- 
 jected petitioo in behalf of the young saiior ? " 
 
 " SigBore^ I had ao athec What is liie vanity 
 of a triumph ajmong the gobdolieis, or the bauble 
 of a. mimic oar .and <chain, to one of my years and 
 com^tion?" 
 
 ■ Thou forgettest Aait the -oar and chain aw 
 U" 
 
 " Excellent gentlemen, gold caniMSt hexl the wonands 
 which misery has left on a Jieavy heart. Give me 
 back the chUd, that my eyBS may not be closed by 
 
rur. BRAVO. 16} 
 
 •trangers, and that I may speak good counsel uito 
 iiis young cars, while there is hope my words may W 
 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 speakii^, he ad- 
 vaiieed, with the timid step of a man unaceustomed 
 to move in superior pi''esences, and laid upon the 
 dark cloth of the table a ring that sparkled with, 
 what at least seemed to be, verv precious atones. 
 The astonished secretary raised the jewel, and held 
 it in 8i;speuse before the eyes of the judges. 
 
 " How is this ?" exclaimed he of the Three, who 
 had oftenest interfered in the examinaUoo ; " 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 the 
 ambassadors and the people." 
 
 " Hadst thou aught to dm 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 usuaj depth 
 and steadiness as he ajjsweced, 
 
 " Signore, no— until now, I knew not the fonune 
 of the fisluirman." 
 
 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 
 rin^ came into thy ftossessioQ ; 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 tha 
 power of Venice." 
 
 Q 
 
182 THE BRAVO. 
 
 " What meanest thou, fellow ? None are superior 
 to the right and the force of the republic that dwell 
 within her limits. Answer without evasion, as thou 
 valuest thy person." 
 
 " I should prize that which is of little value, Sig 
 nore, and be guilty of a great folly, as well as of a 
 great sin, were I to deceive you, to save a body old 
 and worthless as mine from stripes. If your excel- 
 lencies are willing to hear, you will find that I am 
 no less willing to tell the manner in which I got the 
 ring." 
 
 " Speak, then, and trifle not." 
 
 " I know not, Signori, whether you are used to 
 hearing untruths, that you caution me so much 
 not to deal with them ; but we of the I^agunes are 
 not afraid to say what we have seen and done, for 
 most of our business is with the winds" and waves, 
 which take their orders from God himself. There 
 is a tradition, Signori, among us fishermen, that in 
 times past, one of our body brought up from the bay; 
 the ring with which the doge is accustomed to mar- 
 ry the Adriatic. A jewel of that value was of little 
 use to one who casts his nets daily for bread and oil, 
 and he brought it to the doge, as became a fisher 
 man, into whose hands the saints had thrown a prize 
 to which he had no title, as it were to prove his hon- 
 esty. This act of our companion is much spoken 
 of on the Lagunes and at the I^ido, and it is saia 
 lliere is a noble painting done by some of our Vene- 
 tian masters, in the halls of the palace, which tella 
 the story as it happened ; showing the prince on his 
 throne, and the lucky fisherman with his naked legs, 
 rendering back to his highness that which had beeri 
 lost. I hope there is foundation for this belief, Sig- 
 nori, which greally flatters our pride, and is not with- 
 out use in keeping some among us truer to the right, 
 and better favored in the eyes of St. Anthony than 
 might otherwise be." ' 
 
THE BRAVO. H3 
 
 • The fact was so." 
 
 'And the painting, excellent. Signore? I hope our 
 vanity has not deceived us concerning the picture, 
 neither?" 
 
 "The picture you mention is to be seen within 
 the paiacei" 
 
 " Corpo di Bacco ! I have had my misgivings on 
 that point, for it is not common that the rich and the 
 liappy should take such note of what the humble and 
 the poor have done. Is the work from the hands of 
 the great Tiziano himself, eccellenza?" 
 
 "It is not ; one of little name hath put his pencil 
 to the canvas." ' 
 
 " They say that Tiziano had the art of giving to 
 his works the look and richness of flesh, and one 
 would think that a just man might find, in the hones- 
 ty of the poor fisherman, a color bright enough to 
 have satisfied even his eye. But it may be that the 
 senate saw danger , in thus flattering us of the La- 
 gunes." 
 
 " Proceed with the account of thine own fortune 
 with the ring." 
 
 " Illustrious noblesi I have often dreamed of the 
 luck of my fellow of the old times ; and more than 
 once have I drawn the nets with an eager hand in 
 my sleep, thinlcirig to find that very jewel entangled 
 in its meshes, or embowelled by some fish. What I 
 have so often fancied has at last happienedt I am 
 an old man, Signori, and there are few pools or 
 banks between Fusina and Giorgio, that my lines or 
 my nets have not fathomed or covered. The spot 
 to which the Bucentoro is wont to steer in these cer- 
 emonies is well known to me, and I had a care to 
 cover the bottom round about with all my n&ls in 
 .'he hope of drawing up the ring. When his high- 
 ness cast the jewel, I dropped a buoy to mark the 
 spot"— Signori, this is all — my accomplice was St. 
 Anthony." 
 
184 THE BRAVO 
 
 " For doing this you had a motive 1 
 
 « Holy Mother of God ! Was it not sufficient to 
 get back my boy from the gripe of the galleygl' 
 exclaimed Antonio, with an energy and a simpfieity* 
 that are oftsn 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 j^ of no great service to tba lepialdic, but 
 who is all to hi« pareot." 
 
 *' Thy petitiioo t& his highness^ -thy strife in -the 
 regatta, and thy search for the ring', haxL the sanae 
 obgeet?" 
 
 " To me. MgnoKSt Ufe has Iwt ooe.'' 
 
 There was a s%ht but suppressed movement 
 among the coiuicil. 
 
 " When thy reque^ was refused by Ms highness 
 as ill-1imed-«-" 
 
 " Ah ! eccellenza, when one has a white head and 
 a failing arm, he canmc^ stop t@ look for the proper 
 moment in such a cause !" interrupted the fisfaerm^ 
 with a gleaoj of that in^tuosity which forms the 
 true base of Italian character. 
 
 " When thy request was denied, amd thou hadst 
 refused the reward of the victor, thou went among 
 thy fellows and fed tbeir ears with comiplaints of the 
 injustice of St. Mark, and of the senate's tyranny?'' 
 
 " Signare, no. I went away sad and heart-broken; 
 lor I had not thought the doge and nobles would 
 have refused a suGcessfiil gondblierso light a boon.'' 
 
 "And this thou didst not hesitate to proelaiai 
 among the fishermen and idlers of the Lido V 
 
 " BeceUenza, it was not needed-r-my fellows knew 
 my nnhappiness, and Icmgues were not wanting to 
 t^ the worst" 
 
 •'• Therje was a tumultrwith thee at its faead> and 
 sedition was uttered, with much vain-boa9ti^.ol 
 
THE BRAVa 185 
 
 wnat the fleet of the Lagunes could pe-form against 
 the fleet of the republic." 
 
 " There is little difference, Signore, between the 
 two, except that the men of the one go in gondolas 
 with nets, and the men of the other are in the gal- 
 leys of the state. Why should brothers seek each 
 other's blood?" 
 
 The movement among the judges was more mani- 
 fest than ever. They whispered together, and a 
 paper containing a few* lines written rapidly in 
 pencil, was put into the haijds of the examining 
 secretary. 
 
 " Thou didst address thy fellows, and spoke open 
 ly of thy fancied wrongs ; thou didst comment on 
 the laws which require the services of the citizens, 
 when the republic is compelled to send forth a fleet 
 against its enemies." 
 
 " It is not easy to be silent, Signore, when the 
 heart is full." 
 
 " And there was consultation among thee of com- 
 ing to the palace in a body, and 'of asking the dis- 
 charge of thy grandson from the doge, in the name 
 of the rabble of the Lido." 
 
 " Signore, there were some generous enough to 
 make the offer, but others were of advice it would 
 be well to reflect before they took so bold a measure." 
 
 " And thou — what was thine own counsel on that 
 point?" 
 
 " Eccellenza, I am old, and though unused to be 
 thus questioned by illustrious senators, I had seen 
 enough of the manner in which St. Mark governs, 
 to believe a few unarmed fishermen and gondoliers 
 would net be listened to with — " 
 
 « Ha ! Did the gondoliers become of thy party ; 
 . siiould have believed them jealous, and displeased 
 with the triumph of one who was not of their body.' 
 
 " A gondolier is a man, and though they had the 
 feelings of human nature on being beaten, they had 
 Q 2 
 
186 THE BB4VO. 
 
 also the feelings of huax&a nature when they hoard 
 that a father was robbed of his son,-— Sigoore," con- 
 tinued Antonio, with great earnentn^s and a singu- 
 lar simpUeity, "there will be grei^t discootpnt on 
 the canals, « the galleys sa^ with the boy aboard 
 theai!" 
 
 " Such is thy opinion ; — were the gondoli^v on 
 the Lido numerous?" 
 
 " When the sporta ended* ec<;ellenza, they came 
 over by hundred?, and I will do the generous fel- 
 lows the justice to say, that they had forgotten their 
 want of luck in the love of justice. Diamine i these 
 gondoliers are not so bad a eJass ag gome pretend, 
 but they are men like ourselves, and can feel for a 
 Christian as well as another!" 
 
 The secretary paused, for his task was done; and 
 a deep silence pervaded the glpomy apartment. 
 After a short pause one of the three resumed — 
 
 " Antonio Vecchio," he said " thou hast served 
 tliyself in these said galleys, to which thou now 
 seemest so averse — and served bravely, as I learn ?" 
 
 ," S^nores, J have done my duty by Su Mark. I 
 played my part against the infidel, hut it was after 
 my heard was grown, and at an ag© when I had 
 learnt to know good from evil. There is no duty 
 more cheerfully performed by us all, than to defend 
 the islands and the Lagunes against the enemy.'- 
 
 " And all the republic's dominions. — Thou canst 
 make no distinctions between any of the rights of 
 the state." 
 
 " There is a wisdom granted to the great, which 
 God hath denied the poor and the weak, Signore. 
 To me it does not seem clear that Venice, a city 
 built on a few islands, hath any more right tp carry 
 lier rule into Crete or Candia, than the Turk hath tc 
 come here." 
 
 '* How ! Dost thou dare, on the Lido, to question 
 the claim of the j-epuWic to her oonquestsl or do 
 
THE BRAVO. 187 
 
 ^he 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 snoulders 
 .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 
 ejcceUency ; 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 mem, as among us of 
 the Lagunes." 
 
 " Speak, but refrain from seditious or discrediia 
 ble discourse," uttered a secretary, in a half-wbis- 
 per. " Proceed." 
 
 "I have little now to offer, Signori; I am nol 
 
188 THE BRAVO. 
 
 iised to boast of my services to the state, excellent 
 gentlemen, hut 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 sohtude 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 wiU own the v/eakness, 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 
 
 Eleasant or treacherous wind that may hajjpen to 
 low 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 httle of the trials of the poor. What 
 are the temptations of the blessed St. Anthony him- 
 
THE BRAVO. 189 
 
 self, to ihose of the evil company of the galleys I 
 And now, Signori, though you may be angry to 
 hear it, I will say, that when an aged man has no 
 other kin on earth, or none so near as to feel the 
 glow of the thin blood of the poor, than one poor 
 boy, St. Mark would do well to remember that even 
 a fisherman of the Lagunes can feel as well as the 
 doge on his throne. This much I say, illustrious 
 senators, in sorrow, and not in anger ; for I would 
 get back the child, and die in peace with my supe- 
 riors, as with my equals." 
 
 " Thou mayest depart," said one of the Three. 
 
 " Not yet, Signore, I have still more to say ol 
 the men of the Lagunes, who speak with loud voices 
 concerning this dragging oi boys into the service of 
 the galleys." 
 
 "We will hear their opinions." 
 ■ " Noble gentlemen, if I were to utter all they have 
 said, word for word, I might do some disfavor to 
 your ears ! Man is man, though the Virgin and the 
 saints listen to his aves and prayers from beneath a 
 jacket of serge and a fisherman's cap. But I know 
 too well my duty to the senate to speak so plainly. 
 But. Signori, they say, saving the bluntness of their 
 language, that St. Mark should have ears for the 
 meanest of his people as well as for the richest no- 
 ble ; and that not a hair should fall from the head 
 of a fisherman, without its being counted as if it 
 were a lock from beneath the horned bonnet ; and 
 that where God hath not made marks of his displea- 
 sure, man should not." 
 
 " Do they dare to reason thus?" 
 
 " I know not if it be reason, illustrious Signore, 
 but it is what they say, and, eccellenza, it is holy 
 truth. We are poor workmen of the Lagunes, who 
 dse with the day to cast our nets, and return at 
 night to hard beds and harder fare ; but with this 
 we might be content, did the senate count us as 
 
ISO 'ni£ BRAVO. 
 
 Chrisijans and men. That God hath not^ven to ail 
 the saniie chances in tife, I tvdi know, Ibi it often hap- 
 pens that I draw an ««q)ty net, when my conireKler 
 are ^oaniing with the weight of their draughts; but 
 this is done to punish my «ins, or to humble my. 
 heart, wlhereas it eitceeds the power of man to look 
 into the secrets of the sod« or to foretell the evil of 
 the stiil innocent child. Blessed St. Anthony knows 
 how many years of suffering this visit to the galieyji 
 may cause to the child in the end. Think of tliese 
 things, I pray you, Signori, and send men of tried 
 piiacidies to the wars." 
 
 " Tbdu tnayest retire," rejoined the judge. 
 
 " I should be sorry that any who cometh of my 
 blood," Qontinued the inattentive Antonio, "should 
 be the cause of ill-will between them that r43le and 
 them tnat are born to obey. But nature is stiongei 
 even than the law, and I should discredit her feet 
 ings were I to go without peaking as becomes a 
 father. Ye have taken iimychM and sent Mri to 
 serve the state at the ba,7iaxd of body and soul, with- 
 out giving opportunity for a ^artiiag kiss^ or a part- 
 ing blessing-— ye have used tny flesh and blood as 
 ye would use tlhe 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 my stiffened Mmibs to do 
 ye f^asure, rendered ye the jewel which St. Antho" 
 ny gave to my net, that it might sofften yovB" hearts 
 and reason©.! with yon calmly on the natu<Fe of youi 
 acts, you ■turn from me ooldly, as if I were unfit to 
 stand forth in defence of the offspring that God hatJ- 
 left my age ! This is not the boasted justice of St. 
 Mark, Venetian senators, but hardness of heart and 
 a wastii^ ®f the means of the poor, that wotdd ill 
 became (the most grasping Heb-rew of ifhe BiaJtel" 
 
THE ratAVD. 191 
 
 " Hast thou aught more to urge, Antonio ? " asked 
 the judge) with the wily dei^n of anmaskii^ the 
 fiflheiman's entire soul. 
 
 ** Ib it Hot enough, Stgnofe, that I urge my years, 
 niy poveirty, tiiy 9car«> and my lovie for the boy? ] 
 know ye not» bik th«>ugh ye are hid behind the foWs 
 of your robes and masks, still must ye be men. 
 There may be among ye a father, or perhaps sonie 
 one who hath a still more sacred charge, the chilo 
 of a dead son. To him I «pBak. In vain ye talk of 
 justice when the weight of your power falls on them 
 least able to bear it ; and though ye may delude 
 yourselves, the meatie^ go^mftr of tKe canai 
 knows — " 
 
 He was stop])ed "from uttering more by his com- 
 panion, who rudely placed a hand on his mouth. 
 
 "Why hast tJjou presufmed to Stop the complaints 
 of Antonio ?" sternAy demanded the judge. 
 
 " It was not decent, iHustrious senators, to listen 
 to such disrespect in so noble a presence," Jacopo 
 answered, bendmg reverently as he spoke. " This 
 old fisherman, dread Signori, is warmed by love for 
 his offspring, and he wiH utter that which, in his 
 cooler mjomeritS) he wiH repent" 
 
 " St. Mark fears not the troth ! If he has more to 
 say, Icit him ideclare it." 
 
 But the excited A*tomfo began to reflect. The 
 flush which ihad ascended to his weather beaten 
 cheek disappeared, and his naked breast ceased to 
 heave. He stood like one rebuked, more by his dis- 
 cretion than Ms conscience, with a calmer eye, and 
 a face that •fexhibit^ tihe cora-poswre of his years, 
 and the reSpect of his icondition— 
 
 " If I have offended, great ^Mitrioians," he said, 
 iiore mildly, " I prfty you to forget the zeal of an 
 Ignorant old man, whose fedings are master of his 
 farrecdiH^ amd who kndws less how to render the 
 truth agreeable to noble ears, than to utter it." 
 
198 THE BRAVO. 
 
 " Thou mayest depart." 
 
 The armed attendants advanced, and, obedient to 
 a sign from the secretary, they led Antonio and his 
 companion through tlie door by which they had en- 
 tered. The other officials of the place followed, 
 and the secret judges were left by themselves in the 
 chamber of doom. 
 
 CHAPTER XIII. 
 
 " O ! tile days that we have seen." 
 
 Shelton. 
 
 A PAUSE like that which accompanies self-coniem 
 plation, and perhaps conscious distrust of purpose, 
 succeeded. Then the Three arose, together, and 
 began to lay aside the instruments of their disguise. 
 When the masks were removed, they exposed the 
 grave visages of men in the decline of life, athwart 
 which worldly cares and worldly passions had 
 drawn those deep lines, which no subsequent ease 
 or resignation can erase. During the process of 
 unrobing neither spoke, for the affair, on which they 
 had just been employed, caused novel and disagree- 
 able sensations to them all. When they were de- 
 livered from their superfluous garments and their 
 masks, however, they drew near the table, and each 
 sought that relief for his limbs and person which wag 
 natural to the long restraint he had undergone. 
 
 " There are letters from the French king inter 
 cepted," said one, after time had permitted them to 
 rally their thoughts ; — " it would appear they treat 
 of the new intentions of the emperor." 
 
 " Have they been restored to the ambassador 'J or 
 
THK BRAVQ. J9Q 
 
 ape \\\e onKinals to go before the senate 7" Aevoiu^ 
 e4 another. 
 
 " On that we must take counsel, at our If isure. } 
 huve naught else to communicatet except that the 
 order given to intercept die messenger 6f the Holy 
 See hath fa,i|ed of its object." 
 
 ^' Of thi? the secretaries advertised me. We must 
 look inW the negligenee of the agents, for there is 
 gpo4 teaspn to believe much usefiil knosjvledge would 
 Hfiye come from ths-t seizure." 
 
 " As the attempt is already known and much spo- 
 ken 0^1 ca,re must be had to issue orders for the ar- 
 resf^ ^f the Fobbers, else may the republic fall into 
 disrepute ^ith its friends. Thfere are n^mes on our 
 list which might be readily marked for punishmeat. 
 for that quarter of our patrimony is never in want of 
 proscribed, to conceal an accident of thi$ nature," 
 
 " Good heed will be hsid to this, since, as you say, 
 ^he affair is weighty. The government or the indi- 
 vjidu?*! that is negligent of reputation, cannot expect 
 long to retain the respect of its equals." 
 
 " The amtoion of the House of Hapsburgh robs 
 uie qf my sleep!" exclaimed the other, throwing 
 <iside some papers, over which his eye had glanced, 
 m disgust. " Holy St. Theodore ! what a scourge 
 to the race is the desire to augment territories and . 
 to extend an unjust rule, beyond the boundaries of 
 reason and nature ! Here have we, in Venice, been 
 in undisputed possession of provinces that are adapt? 
 ed to our institutions, convenient to our wants, and 
 ^g^e^Eible to our desires, for ages ; — provinces that 
 were gallantly won by our ancestors, and which 
 cling to us OiS habits linger in our age : and yet are 
 they become objects of a covetous ambition to our 
 neighbor, ynder a vain pretext of a pojicy, that I 
 f^^r is atrengtiienQd by our increasing weakness. I 
 sit^tep, Signori, of my esteem for men, as I dive 
 deeoer i^fp their tempers, and desires, and oftgo widi 
 
 R 
 
194 THE BRAVa 
 
 myself a dog, as I study their propensities In hie 
 appetite for power, is not the Austrian the most rapa- 
 cious of all the princes of the earth!" 
 
 " More so, think you, worthy Signore, than the 
 Castilian 1 You overlook the unsatiated desire of the 
 Spanish king to extend his sway in Italy." 
 
 " Hapsburgh or Bourbon ; Turk or Englishman 
 they all seem actuated by the same fell appetite for 
 dominion; and now that Venice hath nor more to 
 hope, than to preserve her present advahtagesj the 
 least of all our enjoyments becomes a subject of 
 covetous envy to our enemies. There are passions 
 to weary one of an interference with governments, 
 and to send him to his cord of penitence and the 
 cloisters!" 
 
 "I never listen to your observations, Signore, 
 without quitting the chamber an edified man ! Truly 
 this desire in the strangers to trespass on our priv- 
 ileges, and it may be well said, privileges which 
 have been gained by our treasures and our blood, 
 becomes more manifest, daily. Should it not be 
 checked, St. Mark will be stripped, in the end, of 
 even a landing-place for a gondola on the main." 
 
 " The leap of the winged lion is much curtailed, 
 excellent Sir, or these things might not be ! It is no 
 .longer in our power to persuade, or to command, as 
 of old, and our canals begin to be encumbered with 
 slimy weeds, instead of well-freighted argosies, and 
 swift-sailing feluccas." 
 
 " The Portuguese hath done us irretrievable harm, 
 for without his African discoveries, we might yet 
 have retained the traffic in Indian commodities. I 
 cordially dislike the mongrel race, being, as it is, 
 half Gothic and half Moorish ! " 
 
 " I trust not myself to think of their origin or of 
 their dieeds, my friends, lest prejudice should kindle 
 feelings unbecoming a man and a Christian. — How 
 now, Signor Gradenigo; thou art thoughtful!" 
 
THE BRAVO. 195 
 
 The third member of the secret council, who had 
 not spoken since the disappearance of the accused, 
 and who was no other than the reader's old ac- 
 quaintance of the name just mentioned, slowly 
 lifted his head, from a meditative position, ai this 
 address. 
 
 " The examination of the fisherman hath recalled 
 scenes of my boyhood," he answered, with a touch 
 of nature, that seldom found place in that chamber 
 
 " I heard thee say, he was thy foster-brother," re- 
 turned the other, struggling to conceal a gape. 
 
 " We drank of the same milk, and, for the first 
 years of life, we sported at the same games." 
 
 " These imaginary kindred often give great un- 
 easiness. I am glad your trouble nath no other 
 source, for I had heard that the young heir of your 
 house hath shown a prodigal disposition of late, and 
 I feared that matter might have come to your know- 
 ledge, as one of the council, that a father might not 
 wisn to learn." 
 
 The selfish features Of the Signor Gradenigo, in- 
 stantly underwent a change. He glanced curiously, 
 and with a strong distrust, but in a covert manner, 
 at the fallen eyes of his two companions, anxious 
 to penetrate their secret thoughts ere he ventured to 
 expose his own. 
 
 " Is there aught of complaint against the youth?" 
 he demanded, in a voice of hesitation. " You un- 
 derstand a father's interest, and will not conceal the 
 truth." 
 
 " Signore, you know that the agents of the police 
 are active, and little that comes to their knowledge 
 fails to reach the ears of the council. But, at the 
 worst, the matter is not of life or death. It can 
 only cost the inconsiderate young man a visit to 
 Dalmatia, or an order to waste the summer at the 
 foot of the Alps." 
 
 13 
 
196 TI^ BRAVO 
 
 "Youth is the season of indisoretioa, as ye kooiv, 
 Signori," rtsturned the father, breathing more freeljf, 
 " and as none become old that have not been young; 
 I have Uttle need to awaken your recollection of Us, 
 weaknesses. I trust my son is incapable of design 
 ■ng aught against the republic?" 
 
 "Of that he is not su^cted." A slight ejtpres- 
 sion of irony crossed the features of the old senator, 
 as he spoke. " But he is represented as aiming too 
 freely af the person and wealth of your ward ; and 
 that she, who i$ 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 meisaber*," 
 
 " Such is the law, and none coming of me shall 
 show it di^espeot. I have preferred my daims to 
 that connexion, openly, but with diffidence ; and J 
 await the deeision of the state, in respectful confi- 
 dence." 
 
 His associates bowed in courteous acknowledgr 
 ment oif the justiee of what he said, and of the 
 loyalty of his conduct, but it was in the manner of 
 men too lo«g accjjstomed to- duplicity, to be easily 
 duped. 
 
 "None doubt it, worthy Signer i^radenjgc^ ,fojr 
 thy faith to the state is ever quoted as a model for 
 the young, and as a subject for the approbiattion of 
 the more experienced. Hast thou any commiuiica' 
 tions to make on the interest of the young heiress, 
 thyself?" 
 
 " I am pained to say, that the deep obligation con- 
 ferred by Don CamiUo Monforte, seems to have 
 wrought upon her youthful. imagination, and I appre 
 hend that, in disposing of my ward, the state 
 will have to conteod with the caprice of a female 
 mind. The waywardness of that a,ge wfll give 
 more trouble, than the conduct of far graver mat- 
 ters." 
 
THE BRAVO. Wl 
 
 "1* tfie lady attended by suitable companions, in 
 her daily life?" 
 
 " Her eompaniofls are known to the Senate. In 
 so grave an interest, I woiild not act without their au- 
 thority and sanction. But the affair hath great need 
 pf delicacy in its government The circumstance 
 that So much of my ward's fortcaie lies in the states 
 of the church, rendei-s it necessary to await the 
 ptoper moment for disposing of her trghts, and of 
 transferring their Substance within the limits of the 
 republic, before we pToceed to any act of decision. 
 Once assured of her wealth, she may be disposed of, 
 as seemeth best to the welfare of the state, without 
 further delay." 
 
 " The lady hath a lineage and riches, and an ex- 
 cellence of person, that might render her of great 
 account in some of these knotty negotiaticms, which 
 so KiHCh fetter our movements of late. The time 
 hath been, when a daughter of Venice, not more 
 fair, was wooed to the bed of a sovereign." 
 
 " Signore, those days of glory and greatness exist 
 no longer. Should it be thought expedient to over- 
 look the natural claims of my son, and to bestow my 
 ward to the advantage of "the republic, the most 
 that can be expected through her means, is a favora- 
 ble concession in some future treaty, or a new prop 
 to some of the many decaying interests of the city. 
 In this particular, she ffifty fee tendered of as much, 
 or even of morp use, than the oldest and wisest of 
 our body. But that her will may be free, and the 
 child may hdve no obstacles to her happiness, it 
 will be necessary to make a speedy determination 
 of the claim preferred by Don Camillo. Can we do 
 better than to recommend a compromise, that he 
 •nay return without delay to his own Calabria T' 
 
 " The concern is weighty, and it demands delibe 
 ration." 
 
 " He complains of our tardiness already, and not 
 R2 
 
198 THE BRAVO. 
 
 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 hot 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 witnered 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. 10» 
 
 witli the dames of France, than he who has just 
 spoken." 
 
 « Account it not — account it not — ^"twas the weak- 
 ness of youth and the use of the times ! 1 remem- 
 ber to have seen thee, Enrico, at Madrid, and a gayer 
 or more accomplished gentleman was not known at 
 the Spanish court." 
 
 " Thy friendshij) blinded thee — I was a boy and 
 tull of spirits ; no more, I may assure thee. Didst 
 near of my affair with the mosquetaire, when at 
 Paris?" 
 
 " Did I hear of the general war ? — Thou art too 
 modest, to raise this doubt of a meeting that occu- 
 pied the coteries for a month, as it had been a vic- 
 tory of tlie powers ! Signor Gradenigo, it was a 
 pleasure to call him countryman at that time, for 1 
 do assure thee, a sprightlier or a more gallant gen- 
 tleman did not walk the terrace." 
 
 "Thou tellest me of what my own eyes have 
 been a wit ess. Did I not arrive when men's voices 
 spoke of nothing else? — A beautiful court and a 
 pleasant capith.1 were those of France in our day, 
 SignorL" 
 
 "None plea janter, or of greater freedom of inter- 
 course — bt Mark aid me with his prayers ! The 
 inany pleasant hous that I have passed between the 
 Marais and the Chateau ! Didst ever meet La Com- < 
 tesse de Mignon in the gardens?" 
 
 ' Zitto— tnou growest loquacious, caro ; nay, she 
 wanted not for grace Jind affability, that I virill say. 
 [n what a manner they played in the houses of re- 
 sort, at that time ! " 
 
 " I know it to my cost iVill you lend me your 
 jelief, dear friends? I aiose from the table or La 
 
 Belle Duchesse de , the loser of a thousand 
 
 sequins, and to this hour it se (meth but a moment 
 (hat I was occupied." 
 
 ' I remember the evening. — Thou wert seated be- 
 
300 THi! BKA'Vo. 
 
 tweefl the wife of the Spanish' ariibassador, aftd a 
 miladi of England. Thou wert playing at rotige-et- 
 noir, in more ways than one, for th|y eyes were 
 on thy neighbors instead of thy cards— Giulioj I 
 would have paid half the lo8§^ to have read the 
 next epistle of the worthy senator thy father T" 
 
 " He never knew it — he never kn&W it — ^we hdd 
 our friends on the Rialto, and the account ^as set- 
 lied a few years later. ThOu Wast wdH With Ninon, 
 Enrico'?" 
 
 " A companion of her leisure, and one who' bstsk- 
 ed in the suiishine of her wit." 
 
 " Nay, they said thou wert of mot6 favor—" 
 
 " Mere gossip of the salons. I do protest, geiltle- 
 men, — not that others were better rfeceived— but 
 idle tongues will have their discourse!" 
 
 " Wert thou of the paftj% AlesSandro, that Weiit 
 in a fit of gaiety froiti country to country, till it 
 numbered ten courts at which it appeared in as 
 many weeks?" 
 
 " Was I not its mover '( Whtit a memory art thou 
 getting! 'T was for a htindred goldten louis, arid it 
 was bravely won by an hour. A postponemerft of 
 the reception by the elector of Bavaria, went near 
 to defeat us, but we bribed the groOm of the cham- 
 bers, as 'thou mayest remember, ftnd got into the 
 presence as it were by accident." 
 - " Was that held to be sufficient ?" 
 
 " That was it, for our terms mentioned the condi- 
 tion of holding discourse with ten sovereigns, in as 
 many weeks, in their own palaces. Oh ! it Was fair- 
 ly won; and I believe I may say that it was as 
 gaily expended ! " 
 
 " For the latter will I vouch, since I never quitted 
 thee while a piece of it aH remained. There are 
 divers means of dispensing gold in those nortnern 
 capitals, and the task was quickly accomplishfed 
 
rrn. BKAVo. 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 theii 
 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 Signer 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 e\en 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 1 
 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 
 winler there ; for the witty rogue termed itj the 
 beau ideal of the land of petticoats!" 
 
 The three old Italians, in whom this sally excited 
 a multitude of absurd recollections and pleasant 
 fancies, broke out into a general and hearty fit of 
 .aughter. The sound of their cracked merriment,- 
 3choing in that gloomy and solemn room, suddenly 
 recalled them to the recollection of their duties 
 
3((3 THE BRAVO. 
 
 Bach listened an iiistaiit, as if in expectation th4t 
 some extiaordinary consequencfe was to follow so 
 extraordinary an interruption of the usual silence 
 of the place, like a child whose truant ^jropensities 
 were about to draw detection oh his offence, — and 
 then the principal of the council furtively wiped 
 the tears from his «yes, ahd resumed his gravity. 
 
 " Signori," he said, fumbling in a bundle of papers. 
 " we must take bp the matter <of the fishermian — 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 j but it will now 
 te 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 
 Wie senate, the Donna Violetta^ my ward, in order 
 to possess her person and riches. It speaketh 
 bf proofs in possession of the accuser, as if he 
 were an agent intrusted by the Neapolitati. As a 
 ■JJledge 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 befeh ob- 
 tained without that noble's confidence." 
 
 " Is it certain that he owns the ring 1" 
 
 " Of that am T well assured. You know I am 
 ospecially charged with conducting his personal de- 
 mand with the senate, and frequent interviews have 
 given me opportunity to note that he was wotit to 
 Wear a signet, which is now wanting. My jeweller 
 of the Rialto hath sufficiently identified this, as 
 t|ie missing ring," 
 
 '■i Thus far it is clear, though there is an obscurity 
 ^ the circumstancg t}iat the signet of the accused 
 
THE BRAVO. "ZftS 
 
 hould be ftrand with the accusation, tshlch, being 
 unexplained, renders the charge vague and uncer 
 tain. Have you any clue to the writing, or any 
 means of knowing whence it comes?" 
 
 There was a small but nearly imperceptible red 
 spot on the cheek of the Signor Gradenigo, that did 
 not escape the keen distrust of his companions ; but 
 he concealed his alarm, answering distinctly that he 
 had none. 
 
 " We muirt thetf tiefer a. decision for further proof. 
 The justice of St. Mark hath been too much vaunt- 
 ed to endanger its reputation by a hasty decree, in a 
 question which so closely touches the interest of a 
 powerM woble of Italy. Don Camillo Monforte 
 halh a name of diiAint;tion, and counteth too many 
 of note among his kindred, to be dealt with ks we 
 -might dispose of a gondolier, or the messenger of 
 some foreign state." 
 
 "As respects him, Signore, you are undoubtedly 
 right. But may we not endanger our heiress by 
 too much tenderness?" 
 
 ,» ' « There are many convents m Venice, SJgnore." 
 * « The monastic life is ill suited to the temper of 
 my ward," the Signor Gradenigo drily observed, 
 "and I fear to hazard the experiment^ gold is a key 
 to unlock the -Strongest cdl ; besides. We cannot with 
 due observance of propriety place a child of the 
 state in durance." 
 
 " Signor Gradenigo, we have had this matter un- 
 der long and grave cotisideration, and agreeably to 
 i^r laws, when one of our number bath a palpable 
 interest in the affair, we have taken counsel of his 
 fe^hfiesB, who is of accord with us in sentiment 
 Your personal interest in the lady mi^ have warp- 
 ed your usually excellent judgment ; else, be assured 
 w« shouM have 'summonea you to tiie conference." 
 
 The old senator, who thus tmexpectedly found 
 himself excladed from constfltatitrti. on the verV 
 
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 all 
 it was their intention he should hear. 
 
 " It hath been determined to remove the lady to a 
 suitable retirementj and for this purpose care hath 
 been already had to provide the means. Thou will 
 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 poHcy 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 pei- 
 mit me to express my readiness to resume the 
 charge whenever it shedl please the state again to 
 tjonfer it." 
 
 " Of this none are more persuaded than we, nor 
 are any better satisfied of your ability to discharge 
 the trust faithfullv. But vou enter, Signore, into all 
 
THE BRAVO. 205 
 
 our motives, and will join us in the opinion, that it is 
 equally unbecoming the republic, and one of its most 
 illustrious citizens, to leave a ward of the former in 
 a position that shall subject the latter to unmerited 
 censure. Believe me, we have thought less of Venice 
 m this matter, than of the honor and the interests of 
 the house, of Gradenigo; for, should this Neapolitan 
 thwart our views, you of us all would be most liable 
 to be disapproved of." 
 
 " A thousand thanks, excellent Sir," returned the 
 deposed guardian. " You have taken a load from 
 my mind, and restored some of the freshness and 
 elasticity of youth ! The claim of Don Camillo now 
 is no longer urgent, since it is your pleasure to re- 
 move the lady, for a season, from the city." 
 
 " 'Twere better to hold it in deeper suspense, if it 
 were only to occupy his mind. Keep up thy com- 
 munications, as of wont, and withhold not hope, 
 which is a powerful exciter in minds that are not 
 deadened by experience. We shall not conceal from 
 one of our number, that a negotiation is already 
 near a termination, which will relieve the state from 
 the care of the damsel, and at some benefit to the 
 republic. Her estates lying without our limits great- 
 ly facilitate the treaty, which hath only been with- 
 held from your knowledge, by the consideration, that 
 of late, we have rather too much overloaded thee 
 With affairs." 
 
 Again the Signor Gradenigo bowed submissively, 
 and with apparent joy. He saw that his secret de- 
 sign had been penetrated, notwithstanding all his 
 practised duplicity and specious candor; and he 
 submitted with that species of desperate resignation, 
 which becomes a habit, if not a virtue, in men long 
 accustomed to be governed despotically. When 
 this delicate subject, which required the utmost 
 finesse of Venetian policy, since ft involved the in- 
 terests of one, who happened, at the moment, to be 
 S 
 
306 *ttt: BRAVO. 
 
 in the dreadted (JOtacil itself> Vvas dispdsed 6% ihe 
 three turned their attentioii to other matters, with 
 that semblance ef indiifference to personal feeling, 
 which practice in tortuotis paths Of state-intrigue 
 enabled men to assuttie. 
 
 " Since we are so h&j^Hy of opinion, concerning 
 the dispositiota of tite DOnn^l VMfettEl," coolly ob- 
 served the oldest senfetof, a rare specimen of hack- 
 neyed and worldly morality, " we may !ook into our 
 list of daily duties— what saith the lion's mouths to- 
 night t" 
 
 " A few ©f the ordittary and unmeahing accusa- 
 tions that spring from personal hatred,*' returned 
 anotheTi " One chargeth his neighbor with oversight 
 in religious daties> and with some carelessness of 
 the fasts of iicAy CJhurcli-"^ foolish Scandal, fitted 
 for ;the ears of a 'curate." 
 
 " Is there Baught else?" 
 
 " Anothet complaiteeth lOf ftegltefet in a husband, 
 (fhe scrawl is ia a woman's hand, and beareth, on 
 its face, the evidence of a Woman's tesentment." 
 . " Sudden b rise &M easy to fee a'ppeased. Let 
 the neighborhood 'quiet the household by its stieers — 
 What next?" 
 
 " A suitor iin the coto» ttiaketh complaint of the 
 tardiness of the judges." 
 
 " This totidieththe reputati^ft Of St. Matk ; it must 
 be looked to ! " 
 
 " Hold !" int^rropied Aefeiifnot Gradenigo. " The 
 tribunal acteth adviisigdly— 'ti6 in the matter of a 
 Htbt^w, who is thought to have Secrets of import- 
 ance; The affair hath need of dehfeefation, I do as- 
 sure yoMi" 
 
 "Destroy the ohai^e-^flave we 'mote ?" 
 . " Nothing of note. The us«al nilftibei- bf jilea 
 gantries and hobbling verses whidi tend to nbmifijg ' 
 If we.get-sOmc useM gleanings, by these secret aC^ 
 cMsatiofts, we ^ift matAi nonsense. I Wotdd whip^ 
 
TOE nRAVb. Sft7 
 
 a yoiwtgstfer «jf teh vvho couid ncrt moMld obr soft 
 Italian into bettt-r riiyme than this." 
 
 " 'Tis the wantonness of security. iM it -pass 
 for all that serveth to aiiiuse s«|DptBsseth turbulent 
 thouehtSk Shall we now soe his highhess, Sig- 
 nori T" 
 
 " You forget the fishermanj" gravdy obSei-vedlhe 
 Signor Gi^adenigoi 
 
 " Your honor «aye<h trua. What a hfead for busi 
 liess hath he I Nothing that is usefbl esca^^th his 
 ready mind." 
 
 , The old senator, while hfe was too experietifced 'o 
 be cajoled by 6uch Idnguagev saw the necessity of 
 a{)pearing flattered. Again he bowed, atld tit>olested 
 aloud and fVequently against th(e jii$ti(i<e 6f ce^pli- 
 ments that iie So little merited. Wh*n this littk by- 
 play was over, they proceeded gfav«fly to co*i«ider 
 the matter beforie thenrt. 
 
 As the decHion of thi6 Coancil ttf ^h^ee Will be 
 made apparent in the course of the tiattativ*^, We 
 %ihall not eontiikue to detail the C(>nvier%ti(^ tfltai ac- 
 <}ompaniei(i tlieir ddiberations. The stttitig Was long, 
 so long indeed that when th^y ttrmtt, trdviMg 'd&iVi- 
 |)Jeted their Misine^s, thi^ Iveavy Clock «f <^ ^tiilte 
 toihi the hour of midnight. 
 
 ■" The doge, will fefe itopai{li9ll*»" Ssajd *»tte of tlife 
 two nameless members, as they threw on their 
 cloaks, before leaving the chamber. " I thought his 
 nighness wore a more fatigued and feeble air to- 
 day, than he is wtmt to «j(hibi1i>;at the festivities of 
 the city." 
 
 "His highness is no longer voung, Signore. If 
 I remember riglhti te g<r*iatiy outnwnbers either of 
 us in years. Our Lady tofLOi^O tend him strength 
 'ong to weAt the ducal bonnet, and wisdom to wear 
 t. well!" 
 
 " He hath lat^y sent offisrings to her ishtine." 
 
 •< 8igBore> he hath. Ws eodfesiok- hath gone in 
 
208 THE BRAva 
 
 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 t/iat 
 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 ol' death. 
 Age and infirmities are more potent than bur wish- 
 es." 
 
 " Thou art moody to-night, Signer 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, Ibear 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 thu sjieaker 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 them in an obscurity that was no bad type 
 of the gloomy mysteries of the place. 
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 ** Then methoQght, 
 A serenade broke silence, breathing ^ope 
 Through walls of stone." 
 
 Notwithstanding the lateness of ^}ie hour, the 
 melody ot music was rife on the water. Gondolas 
 continued to glide along the shadowed canals, while 
 
THE BRAVO. 309 
 
 the laugh or the song was echoed among the arches 
 of the palaces. The piazza and piaeeetta were yet 
 brilliant with lights, and gay with their milltitiudes of 
 unwearied revellers. 
 
 The habitation of Donna Violetta was far from 
 the scene of general amusement. Though so re- 
 mote, the hum of the «ioving throng, atmi tki higher 
 strains of the wind-instruinents^ cattie, from time to 
 time, to the ears of its inmatesi, mellowed and thrill- 
 ing by distancf . , 
 
 The position of the moon cast the whole of the 
 narrow passage which flowed beneath the \viBdows 
 of her private apartments into shadow. In a bal- 
 cony which overhung the wateir, stood the youthful 
 tind ardent girl, listening with a charmed ear and a 
 teftrful eye to one of those soft strains, in which 
 V"enetian voices answered to each other from dif- 
 ferent points on the canals, in the songs of the gon- 
 dolierSi Her constant companion and Mentor was 
 near, while the ghostly father of th*m botli stood 
 deeper in the room. 
 
 " There may be pleasanter towns on the main, 
 and capitals of more revelry," said tlie charmed 
 Violetta, withdrawing her person from its leaning 
 attitudfij as the voices ceased i " but in such a night 
 and at this witching hour, what city may i';omp&re 
 with Venice ? " 
 
 " Providence has been less partial in the distribu- 
 tion of its earthly favors than is apparent to a vul- 
 gar eye," returned the attentive CarmelitCi " If we 
 have our peculiar enjoyments and our moments of 
 divine contemplation, other towns have advasfitages 
 of their own ; Genoa and Pisa, Firenae, Ancona, 
 Roma, Palermo, and, chiefest of all, Napoli — " 
 
 "Napoli, father!" 
 
 " Daughter, Napoli. Of all the towns of sunny 
 
 taly, 'tis the fairest and the most blessed in natural 
 
 gifts. Oi" every region I have visited, during a life 
 
aiO THE BRAVO. 
 
 of wandering and penitence, that is the countiy 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; " to 
 admire the beauties of nature, is to worship him 
 who gave them being." 
 
 At that moment a burst of music rose on the air, 
 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 
 he 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 in erested, 
 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 cau- 
 tious friend. 
 
 " Be it for whom it n; ay, it is bold," rejoined the 
 monk. 
 
 Donna Violetta shrunk from observation, behina 
 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- 
 self?" 
 
 " Truly that decency hath not been overlooked ; 
 one in a flowered jacket guides the boat." 
 
 " &Deak, 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 
 ne refused — ^himself banished. Is it not near 
 14 
 
412 THE BRAVO. 
 
 the hmt #hen the goitioh. of the police pssses? 
 Adrtionish him ttt depaft, gi^od Florittda-^and' yet 
 ■ —can we use this rudeness to a Signof of his fatlk f" 
 
 " Father, counsel us ; you ktiow the hazards of 
 this rash gallantry in the NeapoEtan-^^id us with 
 thy wisdoii*), for fhere is not a moment to lose." 
 
 The Carmelite hsid been an attentive and an in- 
 dulgent observer of the emotion, which sensations 
 so novel had awakened in the ardent but unprac- 
 tised breast of the fair Venetian. Kty, 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 dangei's 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 Florifida left the balcony and 
 drew hear her charge. There was tlo 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. Ai 
 this moitient the music suddenly ceased, and the 
 plash of oars, falling into the water, succeeded. 
 
 " He is gone ! " exclaimed the young- creature, 
 who had befen 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 thj 
 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 
 Ihore than any other idle usage, and they should not 
 quit us Unthanked." 
 
THE BRAVa . 2}9 
 
 " Rest you, within. I will watoh the movement 
 of the boats, for it surpasseth female endurance |ipt 
 \Q note their aspect" 
 
 " Thanjks, dearest Florinda ! hasten, lest they en- 
 ter the Qtjier i-anaj ere thou seest them." 
 
 The governess was quickly in the balcony. Ac- 
 tive as was her movement, her eyes were scarcely 
 cast qpon the shadow beneath, before a hurried 
 question dei;nanded what she beheld, 
 
 " Both goijdol§|[ are gone," was the answer. 
 " That with the musicians is already entering the 
 great <;anal, but that of the cavaUer hath qoacceunt- 
 aWy disappeared !" 
 
 " Nay, look again ; he cannot be in siKh haste to 
 quit us." 
 
 " I bad not sought him in the right directior.. 
 Here is his gondwa, by the bridge pf our own 
 canal." 
 
 " And the cavalier 1 Jle waits for some sign of 
 courtesy ; it is meet that we should not withhold it." 
 
 " I see him not. Pis servitor js seated on the 
 steps of the landing, while the .gondola appeareth to 
 be empty. The man hath an air of waiting, but J 
 nowhere see the msisterl" 
 
 " Blessed Maria ! can aught havp befallen the 
 gallant J)uc»,di Sant' Ag«ta?" 
 
 "Naught but the happiness of casting himself 
 here!" qxfilainwd a vojop near the person of the 
 heiress. The Donna Violett* tqrped her gaze from 
 the balcony, and beheld him who filled all her 
 thoughts, at her feet. 
 
 Tftp ory of the girl, the exclacnation of her friend, 
 and a rapid and eager njovenient pf the monk, 
 arought.the whole party into a group. 
 
 " This may not h,e ;" said the latter in a reprov- 
 ing voice. " Arise, Don Camillo, lest I repent list- 
 ening to ypw ppiaysr ; you exceed ojir, pollutions." 
 
 " As much as this emotion exceedeth my hopes,' 
 
214 THE BRAVO. 
 
 answered the noUe. " Holy father, it is vain to oi^ 
 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, witu 
 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 repubUc 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 iiiquisition, 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 Carmehte, 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. 213 
 
 heart Had he been human, he would have loved ; 
 had he loved, he would never have wTorn 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 'le 
 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, Signer Monforte," she 
 said, " and that the senate, in its fatherly rare, 
 searches a partner worthy of an heiress of a house 
 80 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 nol 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 
 gyod 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 tnee, 
 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 spea;king of 
 the estabKshment 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 eompanion of profligates, and the 
 victim of the Hebrews. Believe him qot, for he is 
 stricken in deceit." 
 
 " He is tbe victim of his own designs, if this be 
 true. Of all the youths of Venice I esteem Giaconrio 
 Gradenigo least." 
 
 " This interview must have an end," said the 
 monk, interposing efiectually, and compelling the 
 lover to rise. "It would be easier to escape the 
 toils of sin than to elude the agents of the police 
 tremble lest this visit should be knpwn, 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 ,ai)d inexperienced 
 maiden^" 
 
THE BRAVO. 311 
 
 *♦ A prison, sayesl thou, father !" 
 
 "No kss, daughter* Lighter offences are often 
 expiated by heavier judgments, when the pleasure 
 of the senate is thwarjgd." 
 
 "Thou must not be condemned to a prison, 
 Camillo!" 
 
 " Pear it not The years and peaceful calling of 
 the father make him timid. I have long been pre- 
 pared for this happy moment, and I ask out a single 
 hour to put Venice and all her toils at defiance. 
 Give me the blessed assurance of thy truth, and con- 
 fide in my means for the rest." 
 
 " Thou hearest, Florinda !" 
 
 " This bearing is suited to the sex of Don Camillo, 
 dearest, but it ill becometh thee. A inaiden of high 
 quality must await the decision of her natural 
 guardians." 
 
 " But should that choice be Giacomo Gradenigo ?" 
 
 " The senate will not hear of it The arts of his 
 father have long been known to thee ; and thou must 
 have seen, by the secrecy of his own advances, that 
 he distrusts their decision. The state will have a 
 care to dispose of thee as befitteth thy hopes. Thou 
 art sought of many, and those who guard thy for- 
 tune only await the proposals which best become 
 thy birth." 
 
 " Proposals that become my birth !" 
 
 " Suitable in years, condition, expectations, and 
 character." 
 
 " Am I to regard Don Camillo Monforte as one 
 oeneath me?" ^ 
 
 The monk again interposed. 
 
 « This interview must end," he said. " The eyes 
 drawn upon us, by your indiscreet music, are now 
 turned on other objects, Signore, and you musf 
 break your faith, or depart" 
 
 « Alone, father 1" 
 
 " \a the Donna Violetta, to qiut the roof of her 
 T 
 
216 THE BRAVO 
 
 father with as little warning as an unfavored de- 
 pendant?" 
 
 " Nay, Signor Monforte, you could not, in reason, 
 have expected more, in this interview, than the 
 hope of some future termination to your suit — 
 some pledge — " 
 
 « And that pledge 1" 
 
 The eye of Violetta turned from her governess 
 to her lover, irom her lover to the monk, and from 
 the latter to the floor. 
 
 « Is thine, Camillo." 
 
 A common cry escaped the Carmelite and the 
 governess. 
 
 "Thy mercy, excellent friends," continued the 
 blushing but decided Violetta. " If I have encour- 
 aged Don Camillo, in a manner that thy counsels 
 and maiden modesty would repi^ove ; reflect that had 
 he hesitated to cast himself into the Giudecca, I 
 should have wanted the power to confer this trifling 
 grace. Why should I be less generous than my pre- 
 server 1 No, Camillo, when the senate condemns me 
 to wed another than thee, it pronounces the doom of 
 celibacy; I will hide my griefs in a convent till I die!" 
 
 There was a solemn and fearful interruption to a 
 discourse which was so rapidly becoming explicit, 
 by the sound of the bell, that the groom of the cham 
 bers, a long-tried and confidential domestic, had 
 been commanded to ring before he entered. As this 
 injunction had been accompanied by another not to 
 appear, unless summoned, or urged by some grave 
 motive, the signal caused a sudden pause, even at 
 that interesting moment. 
 
 " How now !" exclaimed the Carmelite to the ser. 
 j'ant, who abruptly entered. "What means this dis- 
 regard of my injunctions?" 
 
 " Father, the republic !" 
 
 "Is St. Mark in jeopardy, that females and priests 
 are summoned to aid him?" 
 
THE BRAVO. 219 
 
 " 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 if heart ! ! will assume 
 the responsibility o*" 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 uselesisness 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. 
 
 " 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, makmg 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 I" 
 
 " 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 j'oui 
 person, ladv. was committed by the republic, yow 
 natural and careful protector, to the especial guar 
 
THK 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 illusti'ious 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 vnsdom. I know not its 
 determination concerning those who have long 
 dwelt with you, but there can be no reason to doubt 
 its tenderness or discrietion. 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 tne 
 Signor Gradenigo as against all others of his sex." 
 
 " Shall I not even thank him for his care?" 
 
 " He is tenfold rewarded in the senate's grau- 
 ,iide." 
 
 " It would have been gracious to have expressed 
 my feelings towards the Signor Gradenigo in 
 T2 
 
^23 FHE BRAVO. 
 
 words ; but tnat which is refused to the tongue wiD 
 be permitted to the pen." 
 
 •" 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 
 'he soul of a sinner?" 
 
 Though amazed, the monk could not hesitate 
 about auswering 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. 223 
 
 threaded the magnificent rooms and descended to 
 his gondpla. 
 
 " You must be much hqpored of the senate, holy 
 monk," observed the latter vi^hile they proceeded, 
 * to hold so near a trust about the person of one in 
 whom the state takes so great an interest?" 
 
 " I feel it as such, my son. A life of peace and 
 prayer should have made me friends." 
 
 " Men like you, father, merit the esteem they 
 crave. Are yofi long of Venice?" 
 
 "Since the last conclave. I came into the re- 
 public as confessor to the late minister from Flor- 
 ence." 
 
 "An honorable trust. You have been with us 
 then long enough to know that the republic neVei 
 forgets a servitor, nor forgives an affront" 
 
 " 'Tis an ancient state, and one whose influence 
 stUl reaches far and near." 
 
 " Have a care of the step. These marbles are 
 treacherous to an uncertain foot." 
 
 " Mine is too practised in the descent to be un- 
 steady. I hope I do not now descend these stairs 
 for the last time ?" 
 
 The minister of the council affected not to under- 
 stand the question, but he answered as if replying 
 only to the previous observation. 
 
 " 'T is truly a venerable state," he said, " but a little 
 tottering with its 'years. All who love liberty, 
 father, must mourn to see so glorious a sway on the 
 decline. Sic transit gloria mundi! You bare-footed 
 Carmelites do well to mortify the flesh in youth, by 
 which you escape the pains of a decreasing power 
 One Uke you can have few wrongs of his younger 
 days to repair?" 
 
 " We are none of us without* sin," returned the 
 monk, crossing himself. " He who would flatter his 
 soul with being perfect lays the additional weight 
 jf vanity on his life." 
 
2Si4 THE BRAVO. 
 
 "Men of my occupation, holy Carmelite, have 
 few opportunities of looking into themselves, and 1 
 bless the hour that hath, brought me into company 
 so godly. My gondola waits — will you enter?" 
 
 The monk regarded his companion in distrust, 
 but knowing the usclessness of resistance, he mur- 
 mured a short prayer and complied. A strong 
 dash of the oars announced their departtire from 
 the steps of the palace. 
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 O pescator ! deU' onda, 
 
 Fi da lin ; 
 O pescator ! dell' onda, 
 
 Fi da lin : 
 Vien pescar in qua, 
 Colla bella tua terca, 
 Colla bella se ne va, 
 Fi da Un, lin, la — 
 
 Venetian Boat Song, 
 
 The moon was at the hei^t. Its rays fell in a 
 flood on the swelling domes and massive roofe of 
 Venice, while the margin of the town was brilliant- 
 ly defined by the glittering bay. The natural and 
 gorgeous setting was more than worthy of that pic- 
 tui'e of human magnificence ; for at that moment, 
 rich as was the queen of the Adriatic in her works 
 of art, the grandeur of her public monuments, the 
 number and splendor of her palaces, and most else 
 that the ingenuity and ambition of man could at 
 tempt, she was ,Dut secondary in the glories of the 
 liour. " • 
 
 Above was the firmament, gemmed with worlds, 
 and sublime in immensity. Beneath lay the broad 
 expanse cf the Adriatic, endless to the eye, trancjuiJ 
 
TIU; BRAVO. 5225 
 
 as the vault it reflected, and luminous with its bor 
 rowed light. Here and there a low island, reclaim 
 ed from the sea by the patient toil of a thousand 
 years, dotted the Lagunes, burthened with the group 
 of some conventual dwellings, or picturesque with 
 the modest roofs of a hamlet of the fishermen. 
 Neither oar, nor song, nor laugh, nor flap of sail, 
 nor jest of mariner, disturbed the stillness. All in 
 the near view was clothed in midnight loveliness, 
 and all in the diMance bespoke the solemnity of na- 
 ture at peace. The city and the Lagunes, the gulf 
 nnd the dreamy Alps, the interminable plain of Lom- 
 bardy, and the blue void of heaven, lay alike, in a 
 common and grand repose. 
 
 Theie suddenly appeared a gondola. It issued 
 from among the watery channels of the town, and 
 glided upon the vast bosom of the bay, noiseless as 
 the fancied progress ot a spirit. A practised and 
 nervous arm guided its movement, which was un- 
 ceasing and rapid. So swift indeed was the passage 
 of the boat, as to disnote pressing haste on the part 
 of tiie solitary individual it contained. It held the 
 direction of the Adriatic, steering between one of 
 the more southern outlets of the bay and the well- 
 known island of St. Giorgio. For half an hour the 
 exertions of the gondolier were unreiaxed, though 
 his eye was often cast behind him, as if he distrust- 
 ed pursuit ; and as often did he gaze ahead, betray- 
 ing an anxious desire to reach some object that was 
 yet invisible. When a wide reach of water lay be- 
 tween him and the town, however, he permitted his 
 oar to rest, and he lent all his lacuities to a keen and 
 anxious search. 
 
 A small dark spot was discovered on the water 
 still nearer to the sea. The oar of the gondolier 
 dashed the element behind him, and his boat again 
 glided away, so far altering its course as to show 
 loat all indecision was now ended. The darker spot 
 
226 THK RRAVO. 
 
 was snortly beheld quivering in tlie nays of the moon, 
 and il, soon assumed the form aai dimensions of a 
 boat at anchor. Again the gondolier ceased his ef- 
 fortSj and he leaned forward, gazing intently at this 
 undefined object, as if he would aid his powers of 
 sight by the sympathy of his other faculties. Just 
 then the notes of music, came softly across the La- 
 gunes. The voice was feeble even to itreinbling, but 
 it had the sweetness of tone and the accuracy of 
 execution which belong so peculiarly to Venice. It 
 was the solitary man, in the distant Doatj indulging 
 in the song of a fisherman. The strains were sweet, 
 and the- intonations plaintive to melancholy. The 
 air was common to all who plied the oar in the ca- 
 nals, and familiar to the ear of the listener. He 
 waited until the close of a verse had died, away, and 
 then Jie answered with a strain of his own. The 
 alternate parts were thus maintained until the music 
 ceased, by the two singing a final verse in chorus. 
 < When the song was ended, the oar of the gondo- 
 lier stirred the water again, and he was quickly by 
 the other's side. 
 
 '• f Thou art busy with thy hook betimes, Antonio," 
 said he who had just arrived, as he stepped into the 
 iroat of the old fisherman already so well known to 
 the reader. " There are men, that an interview with 
 the Council of Three, would have sent to their 
 prayers and a sleepless bed." 
 
 " There is • not a chapel in Venice, Jacopo, in 
 which a sinner may so well lay bare his soul > as in 
 this. I have been here on the empty Lagunes, alone 
 with God, having the gates of Paradise open before 
 my eyes." 
 
 _ .", One hke thee hath no need of images to quicken 
 Jus devotion." 
 
 ^* I s§p the image of my Savior, Jacopo, in those 
 bright stars, that moon, the b'ue heavens, the mistv 
 tiank of mountain, the wfttprs on which we float, ay 
 
THE BRAVO. 221 
 
 ever, ia my own sinking form, as in all which has 
 come from his wisdom and power. I have prayed 
 much since: tiie moon hss risen." 
 
 "And is habit so strong in Aee^tfaat thou thiiikcst 
 of God and thy sins, while thou anglest?" 
 
 "The poor must tofl and the sinful must pray 
 iVfy 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 tliy situ!ation, honest 
 Antonio; here is that which will support life and 
 rai^^e thy courage. See," added the Bravo, sti'efch- 
 ing forth an arm into his own gondola, from which 
 he drew a basket, " here is bread from Daimatia, 
 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 powarful appeals to 
 the wfeakness of nature, but his hand' did not relin- 
 quish its hold of the line, with Which he still eon- 
 tinued to angle. 
 
 "And these are thy gifts, Jacopo?" he asked m a 
 voice that, spite of his resignation, betrayed the 
 longings of appetite. 
 
 •• Antonio, they are the ofierings of one who re- 
 spects thy courage and honors thy nature." 
 
 " Bought withTiis earnings?" 
 
 "Can it be otherwise ?*— I am no beggar, for the 
 love of the; saints, and few in Venice give unasked. 
 E3t then, without fear; seldom wilt &ou be more 
 welcome." 
 
 " T^aike them away, Jacopo, if thou lovest me. Do 
 pot tempt me beyond what I can bear." 
 I, "How! art thou commanded to a penance?" 
 i)aKtjily (exclaimed . the other. 
 
 " Not so — ^not so. It is long since I have found 
 Leisure or heart for the confessional." 
 15 
 
828 THE BRAVO 
 
 " Then why refuse the gift of a friend ? Remem- 
 ber thy years and necessities." 
 
 *' I cannot feed on the price of blood !" 
 
 The hand of the Bravo was withdrawn, as if repel- 
 led by an electric touch. The action caused the 
 rays of the moon to fall athwart his kindling eye, 
 and firm as Antonio was in honesty and principle, 
 he felt the blood creep to his heart, as he encounter 
 ed the fierce and sudden glance of his companion. 
 A long pause succeeded, during which the fisher- 
 man diligently plied his line, though utterly regard- 
 less of the object for which it had been cast 
 
 " I have said it, Jacopo," he added, at length, 
 " and tongue of mine shall not belie the thought of 
 my heart. Take away thy food then, and forget all 
 that is past; for what I have said hath not been 
 said in scorn, but out of regard to my own soul. 
 Thou knowest how I have sorrowed for the boy, 
 but next to his loss I could mourn over thee — ay, 
 more bitterly than over any other of the fallen ! " 
 
 The hard breathing of the Bravo was audible, but 
 still he spoke not. 
 
 " Jacopo," continued the anxious fisherman, " do 
 not mistake me. The pity of the suffering and poor 
 is not like the scorn of the rich and worldly. If 1 
 touch a sore, I do not bruise it with my heel. Thy 
 present pain is better than the greatest of all thj 
 former joys." 
 
 "Enough, old man," said the other in a smother- 
 ed voice ; " thy words are forgotten. Eat without 
 'ear, for the offering is bought with earnings as pure 
 as the gleanings of a mendicant friar." 
 
 " I will trust to the kindness of St. Anthony and 
 the fortune of my hooki" simply returned Antonio. 
 " 'Tis common for us of the Lagunes to go to a sup- 
 perless bed : take away the basket, good Jacopo, 
 and let us speak of other things." 
 
 The Bravo ceased to press his food upon the fish- 
 
THE BRAVO. 229 
 
 erman. Laying aside his basket, he sate brooding 
 over what had occurred. 
 
 " Hast thou come thus far for naught else, good 
 Jacopo ?" demanded the old man, willing to weaken 
 the shock of his refusal. 
 
 The question appeared to restore Jacopo to a ro- 
 coUection of his errand. He stood erect, and look 
 ed about him, for more than a minute, with a keen 
 eye and an entire intentness of purpose. The look 
 in the direction, of the city was longer and more 
 earnest than those thrown toward the sea and the 
 main, nor was it withdrawn, until an involuntary 
 start betrayed etjually surprise and alarm. 
 
 " Is there not a boat, here, in a line with the 
 tower of the campanile?" he asked quickly, point- 
 ing towards the city. 
 
 " It so seems. It is early for my comrades to be 
 abroad, but the draughts have not been heavy of 
 late, and the revelry of yesterday drew many of oui 
 people from their ttiil. , The patricians must eat, and 
 the poor must labor, or both would die." 
 
 The Bravo slowly seated himself, and he looked 
 with concern into the countenance of his companion. 
 
 " Art thou long here, Antonio 1 " 
 
 " But an hour. When they turned us away <rom 
 the palace, thou knowest that I told thee of my ne- 
 cessities. There is not, in common, a more cei lain 
 spot on the Lagunes than this, and yet have I long 
 played the line in vain. The trial of hunger is hard, 
 but, like all other trials, it must be borne. I have 
 prayed to my patron thrice, and sooner or later he 
 will listen to my wants. Thou ail used to the man- 
 ners of these masked nobles, Jacopo ; dost thou 
 think them likely to hearken to reason ? I hope 1 
 did the cause no wrong for want of breeding, but I 
 spoke them fair and plainl)- as fathers and men with 
 hearts." 
 
 " As senators they have none. Thou little under 
 U 
 
230 THE BRAVO. 
 
 standest, Antonio, the distihctionsof the^e patricians. 
 In the gaiety of their palaces, and among the com 
 panions of thei* pleasures, hone 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 oi" 
 yonder Alp, with less humanity, or a wolf amon^ 
 their valleys, more heartless r" 
 
 " Thy words are strong, Jacopo— P would not do 
 injustice even to those who have done me this wrong 
 The senators are men, and God has given all feel- 
 ings and nature alike." 
 
 " The gift ie then a:bused. Thou hast felt the 
 want of thy daily assistant, fishet'rnan, and thou hast 
 sorrowed for thy child ; for thee it is easy to enter 
 into another's griefs ; but the senators know no^iing 
 of suifering. Their children are not dragged to the 
 galleys, their- hopes are never destroyed by laws 
 coming from hard task-masters^, her are their tears 
 shed for sons ruined by being made cOrripanions 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 rfenown, and setvibes 
 that bring with them honots 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 madfe a difference 
 in men. Qne is large, another small; one weak, 
 another strong ; one wise, another foohsh. At what 
 Providence hath done, we should not muimur?" 
 
 " Providence did not make the senate ; 't is an in- 
 vention of jnan. Mark me, Antonio, thy liaiiguage 
 hath given offence, and thou art not safe in Venice. 
 They will pardon all but complaints against their 
 justicCi That is too true to be 'forgiven." 
 
 "Can they wish to ha^m one who seeks his own 
 chiid?" 
 
 '* If tliou wert great and' respected, they would 
 
•I'HK BRAVO. 231 
 
 undermine thy fortune and character, ere thou 
 should'st put their system in danger— as thou art 
 weak ancf poor, they will do thee sfjme direct in- 
 jury, unless thou art moderate. Before aU, I warn 
 thee that their system must stand !" 
 
 " Will God suffer this !" 
 
 " We may not enter into his secrefts ;" returned the 
 Bravo, devojtly 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 fa^4 I little like its air and 
 inovementsi" 
 
 " They are not fisiievmen, 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 east 
 loose from that of hie 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 pitjfes that' there is 
 cause for them. There is yet time for- one skilfbl 
 as. thou to outstrip: the fleetest gondoift 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 eon- 
 science ! Thou hast been kind to me in my need, 
 and if prayers^ fi*om a sincere heart, can do' thee 
 service, thou shah not want them." 
 
 "Antonio!" cried the other, causing his boat to 
 whirl away, and' then pausing an instant like a man 
 nndecided — " I can stay no longer — trust them not— 
 they are false as fiends-^there is no time to lose — 
 I must aiway." 
 
 The fisherman murmured an ejaculation of pity 
 as he waved a hand; in adieu ! 
 
 " Holy St. Anthony, watch ovar my own child 
 
232 THE BRAVO. 
 
 lest he come to some such miserable Hfe!" he add- 
 ed, in an audible prayer — " There hath been good 
 seed cast on a rock, in that youth, for a warmer oi 
 kinder heart is not in man. That one like Jacopo 
 shoula Uve by striking the assassin's blow !" 
 
 The near approach of the strange gondola, now 
 attracted the whole attention of the old man. It 
 came swiflly towards him, impeUed 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 ofifended 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- 
 'ty ; but when he, saw the gondoliers of the state 
 
THE BRAVO. 93") 
 
 hiae on their oars, he glanced his eye again fur- 
 tively in the direction of Jacopo, saw that all was 
 safe, and faced his conipanion with confidence. 
 The brightness of the moon enabled him to distin- 
 guish the dress and aspect of a bare-footed Carme- 
 lite. The latter seemed more confounded than his 
 companion, by the rapidity of the movement, and 
 the novelty of his situation. Notwithstanding his 
 confusion, however, an evident look of -wondei 
 crossed his mortified features when he first beheld 
 tjie humble condition, the thin and whitened locks, 
 and the general air and bearing of the old man with 
 whom he now found himself, 
 
 "Who art thou?" escaped him, in the impulse of 
 surprise. 
 
 " Antonio of the Lagunes ! A fisherman that 
 owes much to St. Anthony, for favors little de- 
 served." 
 
 '* And why hath one like thee fallen beneath the 
 senate's displeasure !" 
 
 "I am honest and ready to do justice toothers. 
 If that of&nd the great, they are men more to be 
 pitied than envied." 
 
 " The convicted are always more disposed to be 
 lieve themselves unfortunate than guilty. The error 
 is fatal, and it should be eradicated from the mind, 
 lest it lead to death." 
 
 " Go tell this to the patricians. They have Heed 
 of plain counsel, and a warning from the church." 
 
 " My son, there is pride and anger, and a per- 
 verse heart in thy replies. The sins of the sena- 
 tors — and as they are men, they are not without spot 
 —can in no manner whiten thine own. Though 
 an unjust sentence should condemn one to punisn- 
 ment, it leaves the offences against God in their na 
 live deformity. Men may pity him who hath wrong 
 'ully undergone the anger of the world, but the 
 church will only pronounce pardon on him who con- 
 U2 
 
^34 THE BRAVO. 
 
 fesseth his errors, with a sincere admission of Uieir 
 magnitude." 
 
 " Have you come, father, to shrive a penitent?" 
 
 " Such is my errand. I lament the occasion, ana 
 d what I fear be true, still more must I i-egret thaf 
 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 logk 
 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 m 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?" 
 
 " Father, you have your eyes, and you can an- 
 swer that question for yourself. He is gone ; though 
 «e 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 
 
THE BRAVO. 235 
 
 seated, and his lips moved, either in prayer or 
 in thanksgiving. "^ 
 
 "Are you sorry, monk, that a sinner has esi. 
 raped?" ^ 
 
 " Son, I rejoice that this bitter office hath passe;d 
 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 then- 
 errand is useless." 
 
 "Be not of haste, good father. The night is 
 gentle, and these hirelings sleep on their oars, like 
 gUUs 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 Miparent haste. 
 
 " He is over bold, and I fear he will row back to 
 the canals, in wliicli 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 ajj 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." 
 
230 THE BUAVO 
 
 Anlonio, who had fastened his line to his seal 
 and disposed of his net with habitual care, now 
 crossed himself devoutly, and took his station before 
 the Carmelite. His acknowledgments of error then 
 began. Much mental misery clothed the language 
 and ideas of the fisherman with a dignity that hia 
 auditor had not been accustomed to find in men of 
 his class. A spirit so long chastened by sufferihg 
 had become elevated and noble. He related his 
 Hopes for the boy, the manner in which they had 
 been blasted by the unjust and selfish policy of the 
 state, of his different eflforts to procure the release 
 of his grandson, and his bold expedients at the re- 
 gatta, and the fancied nuptials with the Adriatic. 
 When he had thus prepared the Carmelite to under- 
 stand the origin of his sinful passions, which it was 
 now his duty to expose, he spoke of those passions 
 themselves, and of their influence on a mind that 
 was ordinarily at peace with mankind. The tale 
 was told simply and without reserve, but in a man- 
 ner to inspire respect, and to awaken powerful sym- 
 pathy in him who heard it. 
 
 " And these feelings thou didst indulge against the 
 honored and powerful of Venice ! " demanded the 
 monk, affecting a severity he could not feel. * 
 
 " Before my God do I confess the sin ! In bitter- 
 ness of heart I cursed them ; for to me they seemed 
 men without feeling for the poor, and heartless as 
 the marbles of their own palaces." 
 
 " Thou knowest that to be forgiven, tiiou must 
 forgive. Dost thou, at peace with all of eaith, ftj'r- 
 get this wrong, and canst thou in charity with thy 
 fellows, pray to Him who died for the race, in be- 
 half of those who have injured thee 1" 
 
 Antonio bowed his head on his naked breast, and 
 he seemed to commune with his soul. 
 
 "Father," he said, in a rebuked tone, " [ hone 1 
 do" ' ' 
 
THE BRAVO. 233 
 
 ♦ "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 tl^e in- 
 most secrets of the heart. Canst thou pardon the 
 error of the patricians, in a contrite spirit for dune 
 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 bv 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, witl^ 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 forgpt thee, my son, m the ofRces of 
 holy church. Receive my benediction, that I may 
 tlepart." 
 
 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 theigondola of the state. It came 
 rowing down; with great force, and was instantly 
 at the^ 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 republijc. 
 
 "Is the penitent shrived?" half whispered one, 
 leemingly the superior of the two. 
 
 " 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. 
 
 The Bravo hath passed toward the island of Sah 
 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 anchcH 
 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 gondola of the state exhibitea 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. Favored 
 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- 
 y swept the Lagunes with their oar-blades, before 
 his own stirred the water. 
 
THE BRAVO. 239 
 
 "Jacopo! — Jacopo!" came fearfully and faintlj 
 to his ears. 
 
 The voice was known and the occasion thorough- 
 ly understood. The cry of distress was succeeded 
 by the rush of the water, as it piled before the beak 
 of the Bravo's gondola. The sound of the parted 
 element was like the sighing of a breeze. Ripples 
 and bubbles were left behind, as the driven scud 
 floats past the stars, and all those muscles which 
 had once before that day been so finely developed 
 in the race of the gondoliers, were now expanded, 
 seemingly in twofold volumes. Energy and skill 
 were in every stroke, and the dark spot came down 
 the streak of light, like the swallow touching the 
 water with its wing. 
 
 " Hither, Jacopo — thou steerest wide !" 
 
 The beak of the gondola turned, and the glaring 
 eye of the Bravo caught a glimpse of the fisherman's 
 head. , 
 
 " Quickly, good Jacopo, — I fail !" 
 
 The murmuring of the water again drowned the 
 stifled words. The eflibrts of the oar were frenzied, 
 and at each stroke the light gondola appeared to 
 rise from its element. 
 
 " Jacopo — hither — dear Jacopo !" 
 
 " The mother of God aid thee, fisherman ! — I 
 come." 
 
 " Jacopo — the boy I — the boy !" 
 
 The water gurgled ; an arm was visible in tne 
 air, and it disappeared. The gondola drove upon 
 the spot where the limb had just been visible, and a 
 backward stroke, that caused the ashen blade to 
 bend like a reed, laid the trembling boat motionless. 
 The furious action threw the Lagune into ebulUtjon, 
 but, when the foam subsided, it lay calm as the blue 
 and peaceful vault it'reflected. 
 
 " Antonio!" — burst from the lips of the Bravo. 
 
 A frightful silence succeeded the call. There wa» 
 
240 THE BRAVOt 
 
 neither answer nor human form. Jaeopo comprettd- 
 ed the handle of his oar with fuigers of irou, and 
 his own breathing caused him to start. On every 
 side he bent a frenzied eye, and on every lide be 
 beheld the profound repose of that treacherous ele- 
 ment which is so terrible in its wrat^ Like the 
 human heart, it seemed to sympathize with the tran- 
 quil beauty of the midnight view; but, like the 
 uman heart, it kept its own fearful secrets 
 
THE BRAVU. 241 
 
 CHAPTER XYH. 
 
 "Yet a few days and dreom-pertorbed nights, 
 And I shall slumber well — but where ? — no matter. 
 Adieu, my Angiolina." 
 
 Marino Falitro. 
 
 When the Carmelite re-entered the apartment of 
 Donna Violetta, his face was covered with the hue 
 of death, and his limbs with difficulty supported him 
 to a chair. He scarcely observed that Don Camillo 
 Monforte was still present, nor did he note the bright- 
 ness and joy which glowed in the eyes of the ardent 
 Violetta. Indeed his appearance was at first unseen 
 by the happy lovers, for the Lord of St. Agata had 
 succeeded in wresting the secret from the breast of 
 his mistress, if that may be called a secret which 
 Italian character had scarcely struggled to retain, 
 and he had crossed the room before even the more 
 tranquil look of the Donna Florinda rested on his 
 person. 
 
 " Thou art ill!" exclaimed the governess. " Father 
 Anselmo hath not been absent without grave cause !" 
 
 The monk threw back his cowl for air, and the 
 act discovered the deadly paleness of his features. 
 But his eye, charged with a meaning of horror, 
 rolled over the faces of those who drew around 
 lim, as if he struggled with memory to recall their 
 persons. 
 
 " Ferdinando! Father Anselmo!" cried the Donna 
 Florinda, correcting the unbidden familiarity, though 
 she could not command the anxiety of her rebel fea 
 tures ; " Speak to us — thou art suffering ! " 
 X 
 
248 THE BRAVQ 
 
 « 111 at heart, Flonnda." 
 
 "Deceive us not — haply thou hast more evil 
 tidings — Venice — " 
 
 "Is a fearful state!" 
 
 " Why hast thou quitted us? — why, in a moment of 
 so much importance to our pupil — a moment that 
 may prove of th^ ^aft inftupnce qn her happiness — 
 hast thou been absent for along hour?" 
 
 Violetta turned a surprised and unconseiioiiiSsglanee 
 towards the ©lock, but she spoke not. 
 
 " The sprvaats of the state had need of me ;" 
 retumeS the monk, easing the pain of his spirit by 
 a, groan. • 
 
 "I understand thee, fathey.; — ^thou hast slwisr«^ 
 a penitent?" 
 
 "Daughter, I have: and fewer depart more at 
 peace yrJith God and their figllows !" 
 
 Donna Florinda murmured a short prayer for the 
 soul of the dead, piou^\y crossing h^«elf as she con- 
 cluded. Her example was imitftted by her pupil, 
 and even the lips of Don CamiUo moved, while hjs 
 head was bowed by the, side, of hig fair companion, 
 in seeming reverence. 
 
 "'Twas a just end, father?"' demanded Donna 
 Florinda. 
 
 " It was an unmerited one ! " cried the monk, with 
 ^^pr, " or there is no faith in man, I bavei wit- 
 nessed the death of one who was better fitted to 
 live, as happily he was better fitted to die, than 
 tliose who pronounced his dopni, What a fearful 
 state is Venice ! " 
 
 "And such are they who are masters pf thy. per- 
 son, Violetta," sajd Don Camillo : " to these midnight 
 murderers will thy happiness be consigned ! Tell us, 
 father, does thy sad tragedy tpuch in aoay mannei 
 on l^e interests of this fair being ? for we are enqir,. 
 cjed iiere ^y mysteries that are as incomprehenaifetej 
 while they are nearly as fearful, as fatq itself." 
 
THE BRAVO 948 
 
 The monk looked from one to the odier and a 
 naore human expression began to appear in his 
 oountenance. 
 
 " Thou art ri^hl,'^ h© said ; « such are the men 
 who mean to dispose of the person of our pupi'. 
 Holy St. Mark, paitdoni tiie prostitution of his re- 
 vered name, and shield her with, the virtue erf his 
 prayers 1" 
 
 " Father-, are we woorthy to know more of that 
 thou hast witnessed T" 
 
 " The secrets of the ocHifessional are saered, my 
 son; but this hath been a disclosure to cover the 
 hving, and not the dead, with shame." 
 
 *' I see the hand of tho«e i^ above ia this !" fbr so 
 most spoke of the eouncil of Three. « They have 
 tampered with, n*y right, for yeara^ to suit their self-< 
 ish purposes, and, to my abame must I own it, they 
 have driven me to a suhmisaian, in order to obtain 
 justice, that as ill accords with my feehngs as with 
 my Qbaractw." 
 
 *' Nay» G%mille, thou axt incapable of this injustice 
 tothyseJf!" 
 
 « 'Tin a fearful government, dearest, and its fruits 
 are equally pernicious to the ruler and' the stribject. 
 It hatji, of ail other dangens; the greatest, the curse 
 of secrecy on its intentions, its acts, and its responr, 
 sibilities ! " 
 
 " Thou sej»«st true, tny son ; there is bo security 
 aaainst oppiiession and wrong in a state, hat the fear 
 W God, or the fear of man. Of the first, Venice 
 hath none^ for too many souls share the odium of 
 her sins ; and as for the last, her deeds are hid froni< 
 their knowledge." 
 
 ^ We speakholdly, for those who Uve. beneath ner 
 Wtws," observed Doj^na Florioda, glancing a look 
 'imidly aiTound herv "As we can neither change 
 nor amend the }Mractioes of the state, better that vite 
 should be silent." 
 
 16 
 
244 THE BRAVO. 
 
 " If we cannot alter the power of the council, we 
 may elude it," hastily answered Don Camillo, though 
 ne too dropped his voice, and assured himself of 
 their security, by closing the casement, andcasting 
 his eyes towards the different doors of the room. 
 " Are you assured of the fidelity of the menials 
 Donna Florinda?'.' 
 
 " Far from it, Signore ; we have those who are 
 of ancient service and of tried character ; but we 
 have those who are named by the senator, Gradeni- 
 go, and who are doubtless no other than the agents 
 of the state." 
 
 " In this manner do they pry into the privacy of 
 all ! I am compelled to entertain, in my palace, var- 
 lets that I know to be their hirelings ; and yet do 1 
 find it better to seem unconscious of their views, lest 
 they environ me in a manner that I cannot even sus- 
 pect. Think you, father, that my presence here hath 
 escaped the spies?" 
 
 " It would be to hazard much were we to rely on 
 such security. None saw us enter, as I think, for we 
 used the secret gate and the more private entrance ; 
 but who is certain of being unobserved when every 
 fifth eye is that of a mercenary?" 
 
 The terrified Violetta laid her hand on the arm of 
 her lover. 
 
 " Even now, Camillo," she said, " thou mayest be 
 observed, and secretly devoted to punishment!" 
 
 " If seen, doubt it not : St. Mark will never par- 
 don so bold an interference with his pleasure. And 
 yet, sweetest Violetta, to gain thy favor, this risk is 
 nothing; nor will a far greater hazard turn me fioni 
 my purpose." 
 
 " These inexperienced and confiding spirits have 
 taken advantage of my absence to communicate more 
 freely than was discreet i" said the Carmelite, in the 
 manner of one who foresaw the answer. 
 
TIIE BRAVO. 249 
 
 <* Father, nature is too strong for the weak pre- 
 ventives of prudence." 
 
 The brow of the monk became clouded. His com- 
 panions watched the workings of his mind, as they 
 appeared in a countenance that in common was so 
 benevolent, though always sad. For a few moments 
 none broke the silence. 
 
 The Carmelite at length demanded, raising his 
 troubled Jook to the countenance of Don Camillo — 
 
 " Hast thou duly reflected on the consequences of 
 this rashness, son ? What dost thou purpose, in thus 
 braving the anger of the republic, and in setting at 
 de/iance her arts, her secret means of intelligence, 
 and her terrors?" 
 
 " Father, I have reflected as all of my years re- 
 flect, when in heart and soul they love. I have brought 
 myself to feel that any misery would be happiness 
 compared to the loss of Violetta, and that no risk 
 can exceed the reward of gaining her favor. Thus 
 much for the first of thy questions — for the last I can 
 only say that I am too much accustomed to the wiles 
 of the senate to be a novice in the means of coun- 
 teracting them." 
 
 " There is but one language for youth, when se- 
 duced by that pleasing delusion which paints the fu- 
 ture with hues of gold. Age and experience may 
 condemn it, but the weakness will continue to pre- 
 vail in all, until life shall appear in its true colors. 
 Duke of Sant' Agata, though a noble of high lineage 
 and illustrious name, and though lord of many vas- 
 sals, thou art not a power — thou canst not declare 
 thy palace in Venice a fortress, nor send a herald 
 to the doge with defiance." 
 
 " True, reverend monk ; I cannot do this ; nor 
 would it be well for him who could, to trust his for- 
 tune on so reckless a risk. But the states of St Mark 
 do not cover the earth — ^we can fly." 
 X2 
 
248 THE BRAVO 
 
 " Tire senate hath a long arm ; and it hath ft thbu 
 sand secret hands." 
 
 " None know it better than I ; still it does no vio- 
 lence without motive; the faith of their ward irre* 
 trievably mine, the evfl, as respects them, becomes 
 irreparable." 
 
 " Think'st thou so ! Means would cpjiftkij' be ibtmd 
 to separate jTiui BeUeVe ftbt that Venicfe W(iuld 
 be thwarted bf its dcssiga so easily ? the -wealth of 
 a house like this would purchase many an unworthy 
 suitor, and thy right Wotild be disregarded, of hapljf 
 denied*" 
 
 "But, father, the ceremony of the church fflay 
 not be despised!" exclaimed Violetta; "it eoiises fVoiS 
 heaven and is saCred." 
 
 " Daughteiri I isay it with sofrow, bwt the great atld 
 the povrerful find means even to set aside that ven- 
 erable and holy sacramenti Thine own g*rill wodd 
 serve to seal thy miseryi" 
 
 " This might arrive, father, Were -we to ebfltittOfc 
 ■within the grasp of St. Mark," ihterrUptet the N6a^ 
 politan; "but once beyond Iris borders, 'fft^owld be 
 a bold interference with the right of a fefe^ gtaife 
 to lay hand on our persons. More than thii, Ilikve 
 a castle, in St. Agata, that will defy their rhogt se- 
 cret means, until events might happen which should 
 render it more prUdent for them to desist than to^f- 
 severe." 
 
 " This reasoii hath fof ce wert thou withifl the walls 
 of St. Agata, instead of; being, as thoa art, ftmolig 
 the canaife." 
 
 '• Here is one of Calabria, a vassal bofh Of mine, 
 a certain Stefano Milano, the pftdrohe of a Setren- 
 ti ne felucca, now lying in the port? the man is in strict 
 anliry with my own gondolief-^he who was third 
 in this day's race. AM thoH iil, father, that tJiou ap 
 pearest troubled ? 
 
THE BRAVa 847 
 
 " Proceed with thy expedient," answered the 
 monk, motioning that he wished not to be observed. 
 
 " My faithful Gino reports that this Stefano is on 
 the canals, on some errand of the republic, as he 
 thinks, for thot^h the mariner ie less disposed to fa- 
 miliarity than is wont, he hath let drop hii^ts that 
 lead to such a conclusion — ^the felucca is ready, 
 from hour to hour, to put upon ifee sea, and doubt 
 not the padrone would rather serve his natural lord 
 than these double^ealing miscreants of the senate. 
 I can pay as well as they, if served to my .pleasure , 
 and I can punish too, when ofTendedi" 
 
 " There is reason in this, Signore, wert thou be- 
 yond the wiles of this mysterious city. But in what 
 manner canst thou embark, without drawing the 
 notice of those, who doubtless watch our move- 
 ments, on thy person?" 
 
 " There are maskers on the canals at all hours, 
 and if Venice be so impertinent in her system of 
 watchfulness, thou knowest, father, that, without ex 
 iraordinary motive> that disguise is sacred. With- 
 out this narrow privilege^ the town would not be 
 habitable a day." 
 
 " I fear the result ;" observed the hesitating monk, 
 while it was evident, from the thoughtfnlness of his 
 countenance, that he calculated the chances of the 
 adventure. " If known and arretted, we are all 
 lost!" 
 
 " Trust me, father, that thy fortune shall not be 
 forgotten, even in that uujiappy issue. I have an 
 Uncle, as you kno'w, high in the favor of the pontiff, 
 and who wears the scarlet hat I pledge to you the 
 honor of a cavalier, all my interest with this relative, 
 to gain such intercession from the church as shall 
 weaken the blow to her servant" 
 
 The features of the Carmelite flushed, and, for 
 the first time, the ardent young noble observed 
 
248 THE BRAVO. 
 
 around his ascetic mouth an expression of worldly 
 pride. 
 
 " Thou hast unjustly rated my apprehensions^ 
 Lord of St. Agata," he said ; " I fear not for myself, 
 but for others. This tender and lovely child hath 
 not been confided to my care, without creating a 
 parental solicitude in her behalf, and" — he paused, 
 and seemed to struggle with himself — " I have too 
 long known the mild and womanly virtues of Donna 
 Florinda, to witness, with indifierence, her exposure 
 to a near and fearful danger. Abandon our charge, 
 we cannot ; nor do I see in what manner, as prn 
 dent and watchful guardians, we may in any man- 
 ner consent to this risk. Let us hope that they who 
 govern will yet consult the honor and happiness of 
 Donna Violetta." 
 
 " That were to hope the winged lion would be 
 come a lamb, or the dark and soulless senate a com- 
 munity of self-mortifying and godly Carthusians' 
 No, reverend monk, we must seize the happy mo- 
 ment, and none is likely to be more fortunate than 
 this, or trust our hopes to a cold and calculating 
 policy, that disregards all motives but its own object. 
 An hour, nay, half the time, would suffice to apprize 
 the mariner, and ere the morning light, we might 
 see the domes of Venice sinking into their own 
 hated Lagunes." 
 
 " These artf the plans of confident youth, quicken- 
 ed by passion. Believe me, son, it is not easy as 
 thou imagines!, to mislfj^d the agents of the police. 
 This palace could not be quitted, the felucca entered, 
 or any one of the many necessary steps hazarded, 
 without drawing upon us their eyes. Hark! — I 
 hear the wash of oars — a gondola is even now at 
 Jie water-gate !" 
 
 Donna Florinda went hastily to the balcony, and 
 as quickly returned, to report that she had seen an 
 officer of the republic enter the palace. There was 
 
THE BRAVO. 249 
 
 no time to lose, and Don Camillo was again urged 
 to conceal himself in the little oratory. This' neces- 
 sary caution had hardly been observed before the 
 door of the room opened, and the privileged mes- 
 senger of the senate announced his own ajipea ranee 
 It was the very individual who had presided at the 
 fearful execution of the fisherman, and Vpho had 
 already annbumied the cessation of the Stgnor Gra 
 denigo's powers. His eye glanced suspiciously 
 ai'ound the room* as he entered* and the Garmelite 
 trembled ih every limb, at the loctk whicti encotinter- 
 ed his own. But all immediate apprehensions van- 
 ished* tvheii the usual artful smile, with which he 
 was wont to soften his disagreeable co/nrtaunications 
 took place of the momentary expression of a vague 
 dhd an habitual suspicion. 
 
 "Noble 'ady," he said, bowing with deference to 
 the i-ank of her he addressed, "you may Ifcam by 
 this assiduity, on the part of their servant, the inter- 
 est which the senate takeb in your welfare. Anxious 
 to do you pleasure* and ever attentive to the wishes 
 of one so young, it hath been decided to give you 
 the amusement and variety of another scene, at a 
 season when the canals of our city become disa 
 grfeeable, from their warmth and the crowds which 
 live in the air. I am sent to request you will make 
 such preparatiohs, as may befit your convenience 
 during a few months' residence in a. purer atmo 
 sphere, and that this may be done Speedily 5 as youi 
 joui'ney, always to prevent .discomfort to yourself, 
 will commence before the rising of the sun." 
 
 " This is short notice, Sigaore, for a female about 
 to quit the dwelUng of her ancestors!" 
 
 " St. Mark suffers his love and parental care to 
 overlook the vain ceremonies of form. It is thus 
 the parent dealeth with the child. There ife little 
 need of unusual notice, since it will be the bilsiness 
 of the government to see all that is necessary dis- 
 
250 THK BIlAVa 
 
 patched to the residence; which is to be honored 
 with the presence of so illustrious a lady." 
 
 " For myself, Signore, little preparation is needed 
 But I fear 'Jie train of servitors, that befit my con- 
 dition, will require more leisure for their arrange- 
 ments." 
 
 " Lady, that embarrassment hath been foreseen 
 and to remove it, the council hath decided to supply 
 you with the only attendant you will require, during 
 n absence from the city which wiD be so short." 
 
 " How, Signore ! am I to be separated from my 
 people?" 
 
 " From the hired menials of your palace, lady, to 
 be confided tp those who will serve your person^ 
 from a nobler motive." 
 
 " And my maternal friend — my ghostly adviser ? ' 
 
 "They will be permitted to repose from their 
 trusts, during your absence." 
 
 An exclamation from Donna Florinda, and an in- 
 voluntary movement of the monk, betrayed their 
 mutual concern. Donna Violetta suppressed the 
 exhibition of her own resentment, and of her wound- 
 ed afiections, by a powerful efTort, in which she was 
 greatly sustained by her pride ; but she could not 
 entirely conceal the anguish of another sort, that 
 was seated in her eye. 
 
 " Do I understand that this prohibition extends to 
 her, who, in common, serves my person?" 
 
 " Signora, such are my instructions." 
 
 " Is it expected that Violetta Tiepolo will do these 
 menial offices for herself?" 
 
 " Signora, no. A most excellent and agreeable- 
 attendant has been provided for that duty. Annina," 
 he continued, approaching the door, " thy noble mis- 
 tress is impatient to see thee." 
 
 As he spoke, the daughter of the wine-seller ap- 
 peared. She wore an air of assumed humility, but 
 
THE BRAVO. 261 
 
 t was accompanied by a secret mien, that betrayed 
 ndependence of the pleasure of her new mistress. 
 
 " And this damsel is to be my nearest confidant !" 
 exclaimed Donna Vloletta, after studying the artful 
 and demure countenance of the girl, a moment, with 
 a dislike she did not care to conceal. 
 
 " Such hath been the solicitude of your illustrious 
 -guardians, lady. As the damsel is instructed in all 
 that is necessary, I will intrude no longer, but take 
 my leave, recommending that you improve the hours, 
 which are now few, between this and the rising sun, 
 that you may profit by the morning breeze in quit- 
 ling the city." 
 
 The officer glanced another look around the room, 
 more, however, through habitual caution than any 
 other reason, bowed, and departed. 
 
 A profound and sorrowful silence succeeded. 
 Then the apprehension that Don Camillo might mis- 
 take their situation and appear, flashed upon the mind 
 of Violetta, and she hastened to apprize him of the 
 danger, by speaking to the new attendant 
 
 "Thou hast served before this, Annina?" she 
 asked so loud as to permit the words to be heard in 
 the oratory. 
 
 " Never a lady so beautiful and illustrious, Signora 
 But I hope to make myself agreeable to one that I 
 hear is kind to all around her." 
 
 " Thou art not new to the flattery of thy class ; 
 go then, and acquaint my ancient attendants with 
 this sudden resolution, that I may not disappoint the 
 council by tardiness. I commit all to thy care, An- 
 nina, since thou knowest the pleasure of my guar- 
 dians — those without will furnish the means." 
 
 The girl lingered, and her watchful obseivers 
 noted suspicion and hesitation in her reluctant man- 
 ner of compliance. She obeyed, however, leaving 
 the room with the domestic Donna Violetta sum- 
 moned from the antechamber. The instant the door 
 
252 THE BRAVO. 
 
 was closed behind her, Don Camillo was in the 
 group, and the whole four stood regarding each 
 other in a common panic 
 
 "Canst thou still hesitate, faiJier?" demanded 
 the lover. 
 
 " Not a moment, my son, did I see the means of 
 accomplishing flight" , 
 
 "How ! Thou wilt not then desert me !" exclaim- 
 ed Violetta, kissing his hands in joy* " Nor thou, 
 my second mother!" 
 
 " Neither," answered the governess, who possess- 
 ed intuitive means of Gomprehending the resolutioas 
 of the monk ; " we will go with thee, love, to the 
 Castle of St. Agatsa, or to the dungeon of St. Mark." 
 
 "Virtuous and saifited Florihda, receive my 
 thanks!" cried the reprievecT Violetta, clasping her 
 hands on her bosom, with an emotion in which piety 
 and gratitude were mingled.^—" Camillo» wfe await 
 thy guidance." 
 
 " Refrain," observed the moiik^'— " a footBt6p---tfay 
 concealment." 
 
 Don Camillo was scarce hid from View» "when 
 Annina reappeared. She bad the satne suspicious 
 manner of glancing her eye around, as the official^ 
 and it would seetm, by th@ idle question she put, that 
 her entrance had some other object than the meffe 
 pretence which she made of consulting her new mis 
 tress's humor in the color of a robe. 
 
 " Do as thou wilt, girl," said Violetta, with itnpa> 
 tience ; " thou knowest the place of my intended re* 
 tirement, and canst judge of the fitness of my attire. 
 Hasten thy preparations) that I be not the cause of 
 delay. Enrico, attend my new maid to the ward- 
 robe." 
 
 Annina reluctantly withdrew, for she was far too 
 much practised in wiles not to distrust this unexpect- 
 ed compliance with the will of the council, or not tti 
 |)erceiv6 that she was admitted with dispjsasure ta 
 
THE BRAVO. S&d 
 
 me discharge of her new duties. As the faithful do 
 tnestic of Donna Violetta kept at het side, she was 
 fain, however, to submit, and suffered herself to be 
 led a few steps from the ^oor. Suddenly prfetending 
 to recollect a new question, she returaed with so 
 much rapidity, as to be again in the room, before 
 Enrico could anticipate the intention. 
 
 " Daughter, complete thy errands, and forbear to 
 interrupt our privacy," said the monk, sternly.-^" I 
 am about to confess this penitent, who may pine long 
 for the consolaticftis of the holy office, ere We meet 
 again. If thou hast not aught ui'gent, withdraw, ere 
 thou seriously givest offence to the ohurch." 
 
 The severity of the Carmelite's tone, and the com- 
 manding, though subdued gleaming'Oi^his eye, had 
 the effect to awe the girl. Quailing before his look, 
 and in truth startled at the risk she ran in offending 
 against opinions so deeply seated in the minds of all, 
 and from which her own superstitious habits were 
 far from free, she muttered a'fSw words of apotogy, 
 and finally withdrewi There was another uneasy 
 and suspicious glance thrown around her, however, 
 before the door was closed. When they were once 
 more alone, the monk motioned for silence to the 
 impetuous Don Camillo, who could scarce restrain 
 his impatience until the intruder departed. 
 
 " Son, be prudent," he said ; " wc are in the midst 
 of treachery ; in this unhappy cit) none know in 
 whom they can confide." 
 
 " I think we are sure of Enrico," said the Donna 
 Florinda, thpugh the very doubts she affected not 'o 
 feel, lingered in the tones of her voice. 
 
 " It matters not, daughter."-He is ignorant of the 
 presence of Don Camillo, and in that we are safe. 
 Duke of Sant' Agata, if you can deliver us from these 
 toils, we will accompany you." 
 
 A cry of joy was near bursting frOm the lips of 
 Violetta ; but obedient to the eye of the monk, she 
 Y 
 
254 THE BRAVO 
 
 turned to her lover, as if to learn Kis decision. The 
 expression pf Don Camillo's face was the pledge of 
 his assent. Without speaking, he wrote hastily, with 
 a pencil, a few words on the envelope of a letter, 
 and inclosing a piece of coin in its folds, he moved 
 with a cautious step to the balcony A signal was 
 given, and all awaited in breathless silence the an- 
 swer. Presently they heard the wash of the water, 
 caused by the movement of a gondola beneath the 
 window. Stepping forward again, Don Camillo 
 dropped the paper with such precision, that he dis- 
 tinctly heard the fall of the coin in the bottom of the 
 boat. The gondolier scarce raised his eyes to the 
 balcony, but commencing an air much used on the 
 canals, he swept onward, like one whose duty called 
 for no haste. 
 
 "That has succeeded!" said Don Camillo, when 
 he heard the song of Gino. " In an hour my agent 
 will have secured the felucca, and all now depends 
 on our own means of quitting the palace unobserved. 
 My people will await us, shortly, and perhaps 
 'twould be well to trust openly to our speed in gain- 
 ing the Adriatic." 
 
 " There is a solemn and necessary duty to- per- 
 form," observed the monk ; — " daughters, withdraw 
 to your rooms, and occupy yourselves with the pre- 
 paration necessary for your flight, which may readi- 
 ly be made to appear as intended to meet the 
 senate's pleasure. In a few minutes I shall summon 
 you hither, again." 
 
 Wondering, but obedient, the females withdrew^ 
 The Carmelite then made a brief but clear explana- 
 tion of his intention. Don Camillo Kstened eagerly, 
 and when the other had done speaking they retired 
 together into the oratory. Fifteen minutes had not 
 passed, before the monk reappeared, alone, and 
 touched the bell, which communicated with (he 
 
THE BHAVO. 855 
 
 Closet of Violetta. Donna Florinda and her pupil 
 were quickly in the room. 
 
 " Prepare thy mind for the confessional," said the 
 priest, placing himself, witli grave dignity, in that 
 chair which he habitually used, when listening to 
 the self-accusations and failings of his spiritual child. 
 
 The brow of Violetta paled and flushed again, as 
 if there lay a heavy sin on her conscience. She 
 turned an imploring look on her maternal monitor, 
 in whose mild features she met an encouraging 
 smile, and then, with a beating heart, though ill-col- 
 lected for the solemn duty, but with a decision that 
 the occasion required, she knelt on the cushion at 
 the feet of the monk. 
 
 The murmured language of Donna Violetta was 
 audible to none but him for whose paternal ear it 
 was intended, and that dread Being whose just an- 
 ger it was hoped it might lessen. But Don Camillo 
 gazed, through the half-opened door of the chapel, 
 on the kneeling form, the clasped hands, and the up- 
 lifted countenance of the beautiful penitent As she 
 proceeded with the acknowledgment of her errors, 
 the flush on her cheek deepened, and a pious ex- 
 citement kindled in those eyes, which he had so 
 lately seen glowing with a very different passion. 
 The ingenuous and disciplined soul of Vijjletta was 
 not so quickly disburthened of its load of sin as that 
 of the more practised mind of the Lord of Sant' 
 Agata. The latter fancied that he could trace in 
 the movement of her lips the sound of his own name, 
 and a dozen times during the confession, he thought 
 he could even comprehend sentences of which he 
 himself was the subject Twice the good father 
 smiled, involuntarily, and at each indiscretion, he 
 laid a hand io affection on the bared head of the 
 suppliant. But Violetta ceased to speak, and the 
 absolution was pronounced, with a fervor ttiat the 
 
266 I'HE BRAVO. 
 
 lemarkable circumstances, in which they all stobd; 
 did not fail to heighten. 
 
 When this portion of his duty was ended, the 
 ("armelite entered the oratory. With steady hands 
 he lighted the candles of the altar, and made the 
 other dispositions for the mass. During this iritervai 
 Don Gamillo was at the side of his mistress, whis- 
 pering with the warmth of a triumphant and happy 
 lover. The governess stood near the doOr, vfeitdh- 
 ing for the sound of footsteps in the antechambtel-. 
 The mOnk then advanced to the entrance of the lit- 
 tle ohapely and \Vas about t© speak, when a huiritd 
 step from Donna Flednda arrested his words. Don 
 Camillo had just time to conceSfl his ^ertion withih 
 the drapery of a 'window, bdfote the door opened 
 and Annina entered. 
 
 When the preparations of the altar and the soldton 
 countenance of the priest first met her eye, the girl 
 recoiled, with the air of Ohg rebuked. But rallying 
 her thoughts, with that readiness which had gained 
 her the employment She filled, sh6 crossed herself, 
 reverei ily, and took a place apart, like one Sivho, 
 while she knew her statioh, wished to participate in 
 the mysteries of the holy office. 
 
 " Daughter, none who commence this mass with 
 us, can quit the presencej ere it be completed ;" ob- 
 served the monk. 
 
 « Fathers it is my difty to be neai" the person of 
 my mistress, and it is a happiness to be near it on 
 the occasion of this e&rly matin." 
 
 The monk was embarrassed. He looked fft)m one 
 to the other, in indecision, and was about to frame 
 some pretence to get rid of the iatrUdef , When Doll 
 Camillo appeared in the middle of the ^oOm. 
 
 "Reverend mohk, pfoceed," he said; "'tis bttt 
 another witness of my happiness.'' 
 
 While speaking) the noble touched the hantUtf of 
 liis sword, significantly, with a finger, and cast a 
 
•IHE BRAVO. 257 
 
 look at the half-petrified Annina, which effectual!}* 
 controlled the exclamation that was about to escape 
 her. The monk appeared to understand the terms 
 of this silent compact; for with a deep voice he. 
 commenced the offices of the mass. The singularity 
 of their situation, the important results of the act in 
 which they were engaged, the impressive dignity 
 of the Carmelite, and the imminent hazard which 
 they all ran of exposure, together with the certainty 
 of punishment for their daring to thwart the will of 
 Venice, if betrayed, caused a deeper feeling, than 
 that which usually pervades a marriage ceremony, 
 to preside at nuptials thus celebrated. The youthful 
 Violetta trembled at every intonation of the solemn 
 voice of the monk, and towards the close, she lean 
 ed in helplessness on the arm of the man to whom 
 she had just plighted her vows. The eye of the 
 Carmelite kindled, as he proceeded with the office, 
 however ; and, long ere he had done, he had ob- 
 tained such a command over the feelings of even 
 Annina, as to hold her mercenary spirit in awe 
 The final union was pronounced, and the benedic- 
 tion given. 
 
 " Maria, of pure memory, watch over thy happi 
 ness, daughter !" said the monk, for the first time in 
 his Hfe saluting the fair brow of the weeping bride. 
 — " Duke of Sant' Agata, may thy patron hear thy 
 prayers, as thou provest kind to this innocent and 
 confiding child!" 
 
 " Amen ! — Ha ! — ^we are not too soon united, my 
 Violetta ; I hear the sound of oars." 
 
 A glance from the balcony assured him of the trutn 
 of his words, and rendered it apparent that it had 
 now become necessary to take the most decided step 
 of all. A six-oared gondola, of a size suited to en- 
 dure the waves of the Adriatic at that mild season, 
 dnd wdth a pavilion of fit dimensions, stopped at the 
 »vater-gate of the palace. 
 Y2 
 
258 THE BKAVO 
 
 ; "I wonder at this boldness !" exclaimed Don 
 Camillo. " There must be no delay, lest some 
 spy of the repubhc apprize the police. Awsiy, 
 dearest Violetta— raway, Dwina Florinda — Father, 
 away!" 
 
 The governess and her chargfe passed swiftly ihto 
 the inner rooms. In a minute, they returned bear- 
 ing the caskets of Donna Violetta, and a sufficient 
 supply of necessaries, for a short voyage. . The ia- 
 stant they reappeared, all was ready ; for Don Ca- 
 miHo had long held himself prepared for this deci- 
 sive moment, and the self-denying Carmelite had lit- 
 tle need of superfluities. It Was no moment for un- 
 necessary explanation or trivial objections. 
 
 '• Our hope is in ctelerity," said Don Camillo ; " se- 
 crecy is impossible." . . 
 
 He was still speaking, when the monk led the way 
 from the room. Donna Florinda and the half-breath- 
 less Violetta followed ; Don Camillo drew the arm 
 of Annina under his own, and in a low v&ice bid her, 
 at her peril, refuse to obey. 
 
 The long suite of outer rooms was passedj with- 
 out meeting a single observer of the extraordinary 
 movement. But when the fugitives entered the great 
 hall, that communicated with the principal stairs, they 
 found themselves in the centre of a dozen menials 
 of both sexes. 
 
 " Place," cried the Duke of Sant' Agata, whose 
 person and voice were alike unknown to them. 
 " Your mistress will breathe the air of the canals." 
 
 Wonder and curiosity were alive in every coun- 
 tenance, but suspicion and eager attention were up- 
 j)ermost in the features of many. The foot of Don- 
 na Violetta had scarcely touched the pavement of 
 the lower hall, when several menials glided down 
 the flight, and quitted the palarse, by its different out- 
 lets. Each sought those who engaged him in the 
 service. One flew along the narrow streets of the 
 
THE BRAVO. 359 
 
 (slandfi, to the residence of the Signbr Gradenigo : 
 another sought his son; and one, ignorant of the 
 person of him he served, actually searched an agent 
 of Don Catnillo, to impart a circumstance in which 
 that noble was himself so conspicuous an actor. To 
 such a pass of corruption had double-dealing and 
 mystery reduced the household of the fairest and 
 richest in Venice ! The gondola lay at the marble 
 -steps of the water-^te, held against the stones by 
 two of its crew* Don Camillo saw, at a glanCe, 
 that the masked gondoliers had neglected none of the 
 precautions he had prescribed, and he inwardly Com- 
 mended their punctuality. Each wore a short rapier 
 at his girdle, and he fancied he could trace be- 
 neath the folds of their garments, evidehce of the 
 presence of the clumsy fire-arms, in use at that |)e- 
 riod. These observations were made, while the Car- 
 melite and Viol6tta entered the boat. Donna Flo- 
 rinda followed, and Annina was about to imitate her 
 example, wheh she was arrested by the arm of Don 
 Camillo. 
 
 " Thy service ends here," whispered the bride- 
 groom. " Seek another mistress; in fault of a bet- 
 ter, thou mayest devote thyself to Venieci" 
 
 The little interruption caused Don Camillo to look 
 backwardj and, for a single momwit, he paused to 
 scrutinize the group of eyes that crowded the hAll 
 of the palace, at a respectful distance. 
 
 " Adieu, my friends !" he added ; " Thos6 arhong 
 ye who love your mistress shall be remembered." 
 
 He would have said more, but a rude seizure of 
 his arms caused him to turn hastily away. He was 
 firm in the grasp of the two gondoliers who had 
 landed. While he ^fras yet in too much astonish- 
 ment to struggle, Annina, obedient to a signal, dart- 
 ed past him and leaped into the boat. The oars fell 
 into tiie water ; Don Camillo wa.s repelleid by a vio- 
 lent shove backward into the hall, the gondoliers 
 17 
 
260 THE BRAVO. 
 
 Stepped lightly into their places, and the gondda 
 swept away from the steps, beyond the power of him 
 they left to follow. 
 
 J'Gino! — miscreant! — what means this treache- 
 ry?" 
 
 The moving of the parting gondola was accom- 
 panied by no other sound than the usual washing of 
 the water. In speechless agony, Don Camillo saw 
 the boat glide, swifter and swifter at each stroke of 
 the oars, along the canal, and then, whiriing round 
 the angle of a palace, disappear. 
 
 Venice admitted not of pursuit like another city, 
 for there was no passage along the canal taken by 
 the gondola, but by water. Several of the boats 
 used by the family, lay within the piles on the great 
 canal, at the principal entrance, and Don Camillo 
 was aboiit to rush into one, and to seize its oars, 
 with his own hands, when the usual sounds announc- 
 ed the approach of a gondola from the direction of 
 the bridge, that had so long served as a place of 
 concealment to his own domestic. It soon issued 
 from the obscurity, cast by the shadows of the houses, 
 and proved to be a large gondola pulled, like the one 
 which had just disappeared, by six masked gondo- 
 liers. The resemblance between the equipments of 
 the two was so exact, that at first not onlythe won- 
 dering Camillo, but all the others present fancied the 
 latter, by some extraordinary speed, had already 
 made the tour of the adjoining palaces, and was 
 once more approaching the private entrance of that 
 of Donna Vioietta. 
 
 " Gino !" cried the bewildered bridegroom. 
 
 "Signore mio?" answered the fa ithSil domestic. 
 
 "Draw nearer, varlet. What meaneth this idle 
 trifling, at a moment like this?" 
 
 Don Camillo leaped a fearful distance, an'H happily 
 he reached the gondola. To pass the nr-en and rush 
 
THK BRAVO. 261 
 
 itito the canopy needed but a moment ; to perceivo 
 tliat it was empty was the work of a glance. 
 
 " Villains, have you dared to be false !" cried the 
 confounded noble. 
 
 At that instant the clock of the city began to tell 
 the hour of two, and it was only as that appointed 
 signal sounded heavy and melancholy on tlie night- 
 air, that the undeceived Camillo got a certain glimpse 
 of the truth. 
 
 "Gino," he said, repressing his voice, like one 
 summoning a de^rate resolution — " Are thy fel- 
 lows true T" 
 
 "As faithful as your own vassals, Signore." 
 
 " And thou didst not fail to deliver the note to my 
 agent?" 
 
 " He had it before the ink was dry, eccellenza." 
 
 " The mercenary villain ! — He told thee where to 
 find the gondola, equipped as I see it?" 
 
 " Signore, he did ; and I do the man the justice 
 to say that nothing is wanting, either to speed or 
 comfort." 
 
 " Ay, he even deals in duplicates, so tender is his 
 care!" muttered Don Camillo, between his teeth.— 
 " Pull away, men ; your own safety and my hap 
 pincss now depend on your arms. A thousand du- 
 cats if you equal my hopes — my just anger if you 
 disappoint them ! " 
 
 Don Camillo threw himself on the cushions as he 
 spoke, in bitterness of heart, though he seconded his 
 words by a gesture which bid the men proceed. 
 Gino, who occupied the stern and managed the di- 
 lecting oar, opened a small window in the canopy, 
 • which communicated with the interior, and bent to 
 take his master's directions as the boat sprang ahead 
 Rising from his stooping posture, the practised gon 
 dolier gave a sweep with his blade which caused the 
 sluggish element of the narrow canal to whirl in ed- 
 
9^ THE i»Ava 
 
 dies, a,nd then th«r gondola glided iptft tk^ gr^ qft» 
 nal, as if it. pbeyed.an instiflifst. 
 
 CHAPTER XVnL 
 
 " Why ligat thpH so on, thp. green earth J 
 "Tis npt the hour of slumber : — why sp pale ?" 
 
 Cain. 
 
 NoTwiTHSTANDjNG liis appaFfiot de<;isiQ)i, the Duke 
 of Sant' Ag-s^ta was completely at a loss in wfaat 
 manner to direct his future movements. That hfj 
 had been dupedt by one or moie of the ajgemts, to 
 whom he bad been compelled to co^fid© his neces- 
 sary preparations for the flight he had meditated 
 several cfcays, wasi too certain to adj^it of his de- 
 ceiving himself with the feopes, that some qnaci 
 countable mistake was the cause of his loss, H^ 
 saw, at once, that the senate was master of the per- 
 son of his byide, and he too weS knew its power, 
 and its utter disregar4 of human obligations, ^hen 
 any paramount interest of the state was to be Qont 
 suited, to doubt for an instant its willingness to use 
 its advantage, in any manner that was most likely to 
 contribute to its own views. By- the premature 
 death of her uncle, I)onn?^ Violetta bad become the 
 heiress of vast estates in the dominions of th& church, 
 and a compliance with that jealous a,nd arbitrary lav? 
 of Venice, which commanded all of its nobles, to 
 dispose of any foreign possessions they might ac- 
 quiife, was^ only suspended on account of her sex, 
 and, as has already been seen, with tbe' hope of dis- 
 posing of her hand in a manner that would prove 
 moife profitable to t^ republic. %ith thiS; oWfi<<t 
 still before them, and with the means of accomplish 
 
THE BRAVO. 369 
 
 ing it in their own hands, the bjddegroora weD knew 
 thiRt his marciage would not only be denied, but he 
 feaired the witBosses of the ceremoay would be so 
 disDOf e4 .«li as'\Q give little reason ever to e^spect 
 ewiW?asisment from tl^ir testimony. For himself, 
 personally, he felt less apprehension, though he fore- 
 saw that he had fumiabea his opponentswith an ar- 
 gument t,tot y/m likely to defer to an indefinite peii . 
 od, if it did not entirely defeat his claims to the 
 disputed sijiccessioQ. But he had already made up 
 his mind to this result, though it is probable that hia 
 passion for Vipletta had not entirely blinded him to 
 the fact, that her Roman sjgnories would be no 
 unequal offset for the loss. He believjed that he might 
 possibly return to his palace with impunity, so far as 
 any personal injury was conceded i for the great 
 0O«?ideratiojn he enjoyed in his native land, and the 
 high interest he possessed at the court of Rome, 
 were sufficient pledges that nb open violence would 
 t)e done him. The chief reason why his claim had 
 been kept in suspense, was the wish to profit by his 
 near connexion with the favorite cai^dinal.and though 
 he had never been able entirely to satisfy the ever- 
 incr«a>8ing demands of the eounoil^ in this respect, 
 he thought it probable that the power of the Vatican 
 would not be spared, to save him from any very im- 
 minent personal hazard. Still he had given the state 
 of Venice pl^sible reasons for severity, and lioerty, 
 _igst £^t that moment, was of so much importance, 
 that he dreaded faJling.into the. hands of the ofiicials, 
 as one of the greatest misfojntunea which could mo- 
 mentarily overtake him. He so well knew the 
 crooked policy of those with whom.he had to deal, 
 that he believed he might be arrested solely that the 
 governmentQould maJie an especial merit of his future 
 release, uiider circumstances of so- seem ing gravity 
 UisK order tg.Gino, therefore, h^d been to puU dcwn 
 the principal passage t^wajidth^. port. 
 
264 THE BRAVO. 
 
 Before the gondola, which sprung at each united 
 effort of its crew, like some bounding animal, enter- 
 ed among the shipping, its master had time to re 
 cover his self-possession, and to form some hasty 
 plans for the future. Making a signal for the crew 
 to* cease rowing, he came from beneath the canopy 
 Notwithstanding the lateness of the hour, boats 
 were plying on the water within the town, and the 
 song was still audible on the canals. But among the 
 mariners a general stillness prevailed, such as befitted 
 their toil during the day, and their ordinary habits. 
 
 " Call the first idle gondolier of thy acquaintance 
 hither, Gino," said Don Camillo, with assumed calm- 
 ness ; " I would question him." 
 
 In less than a minute he was gratified. 
 
 " Hast seen any strongly manned gondola plying, 
 of late, in this part of the canal?" demanded Don 
 Camillo, of the man they had stopped. 
 
 " None, but this of your own, Signore ; which is 
 the fastest of all that passed beneath the Rialto, in 
 this day's regatta." 
 
 " How knowest thou, friend, aught of the speed 
 of my boat?" 
 
 " Signore, I have pulled an oar on the canals of 
 Venice six-and-twenty years, and I do not remem- 
 ber to have seen a gondola move more swiftly on 
 them than did this very boat but a few minutes ago, 
 when it dashed among the feluccas, further down in 
 the port, as if it were again ' running for the oar. 
 Corpo di Bacco ! There are rich wines in the 
 palaces of the nobles, that men can give such life to 
 wood!" 
 
 "Whither did we steer?" eagerly asked Don 
 Camillo. 
 
 " Blessed San Teodoro ! I do not wonder, eccel- 
 lenza, that you ask that question, for though it is but 
 a moment since, here I see you lying as motionless . 
 on the water as a floating weed!" 
 
THE BRAVO. ,26fi 
 
 " Friena, here is silver — addio." 
 
 The gondolier swept slowly onward, singing a 
 strain in honor of his bark, while the boat of Don 
 Camillo,darte4 ahead. .Mistic, feldcca, xeh6c, brig- 
 antine, and three-masted ship, were apparently floats 
 ing past them, as they shot through the maze of 
 shipping, when Gino tent forward and drew the at- 
 tfintion of his master to a large gondola, which was 
 polling with a lazy oar toward them, from the di- 
 rection qf, the Lido. Both boats were in a wide 
 avenue in the njidst of the vessels, the usual track 
 of those who went to sea, and there was no object 
 whatever between them. By changing the course 
 of his own boat, Don QdmiUo soon found himself 
 within an oar's length of the other. He saw, at a 
 
 fiance, it was the treacherous gondola by which he 
 ad been duped. 
 
 " Draw, men, and follow !" shduted the desperate 
 Neapolitan, preparing to leap into the midst of his 
 enemies. 
 
 " You dra,w against St. Mark !" cried a warning 
 voice from beneath the canopy. "The chances are 
 unequal Signore; for the smallest signal would 
 bring twenty galleys to our succor." 
 
 Don Camillo might have disregarded this menace, 
 had he not perceived that it caused the half-drawn 
 rapiers of his followers to return to their scabbards. 
 
 " Robber !" he answered, " restore her whom you 
 have spirited away." 
 
 " Signore, you young nobles are often pleased to 
 play your extravagancies with the servants of the 
 republici Here are none but the gondoliers and 
 ipyseif." , A movement of the boat permitted Don 
 Camillo to look into the covered part, and he saw 
 that the other gttered no more than the truth. Con- 
 yinced, of the uselessness of further parley, know- 
 ing Ihe value of every moment, and believing he 
 ... ,', •■ Z , ,., 
 
866 TfSE BRAVO 
 
 was on a track which might still lead to success, the 
 young Neapolitan signed to his people to go on. 
 The DoatB parted in silence, that of Don Camillo 
 oroceedii^ in the direction from ■which the otiier 
 had ,ju8t come. 
 
 In a i^ort time the gmidoia of Don Oamillo was 
 in an open part of the Guidecca, and entirely be- 
 yond the tiers of the shipping. It was so late that 
 the moon had b^un to faU, and its light was cast 
 'Obliquely on the bay, thtromng the eastern sides of 
 the buildings and ihe other objects into shadow. A 
 dozen different vessels were seen, aided by the land- 
 breeze, steering towards the entrance m the port. 
 The rays of the moon fdl upon the broad surface 
 of those sides of their canvas which were nearest 
 to the town, and they resembled so many spotless 
 clouds, sweeping the water and floating seaward. 
 
 " They are sending my wife to Dalmatia!" cried 
 Don Camillo, like a man on whom the trutii began 
 to dawn. 
 
 " Sjgnore mio !" excikiined the astoni^ed Gino. 
 
 "I tell thee, sirtah, that this accursed senate hath 
 pl<»tted against my happiness, and faa^g robbed 
 me of thy mistress, bath employed one of ~uie many 
 felinccas that I see, to transport her to some of its 
 strong-holds, on the eastern coast of the Adriatic.'' 
 
 "Eftessed Maria! Signor Duca, and my honour- 
 ed master ; they say that the very images of stone in 
 Venice have ears, and that the horses of bronze 
 wiH Idck, if an evil word is spolcen against those up 
 above." 
 
 " Is it not enough, varlet, to draw curses from the 
 meek Job, to rob him of a wife ? Hast thou no feel- 
 ing for thy mistress?" 
 
 ^ I did not dream, eccellenaa, that you were so 
 nappy as to have the one, or that I was so hontweo 
 as to have the other." 
 
 " Thou remindest me of my folly, good Gino. In 
 
silling ote on this occasion, thou wilt have thv own 
 rortune in view, as thy efforts, like tJwse of thy fej. 
 Iow«, will he made in behalf <^ the My to whom I 
 have juat flighted a husband's vows." 
 
 " Sva Teodoro help us aU, and hint what is to be 
 done ! Thfe lady is nrost happy, Sjgnor Don Ca«niUo, 
 aod if I only Juew by what name to tneotion her 
 she shotid never be forgotten in any prsjifer that so 
 humble a nimier might dare to o<fer." 
 
 ^ThoM ba^ not forgottea the heaut^ lady 1 
 drew from the €itiideoc& ?" 
 
 >* Cofpo di Baeco j Your eeeeUenza jionted like 
 a swan, and swam faster tb«n a goU, i^^rgotteni 
 Sign{)i«, oor^l think ef it every time I hear a plash 
 in tlie canals, aj»d ewry tioae I think of it I curse 
 tha Aaieona^maa in mv heart. St. Theodotte forgive 
 me, if it be unlike a Christian to do so. But* though 
 we »11 tell marvels ofwhsit our Lord did in we 
 Grttideeea, the dip of its waters is oot the madrria|^ 
 ceremony, «or can we speak wiih much eertaibty 
 ef heatUy, ihait was seen to so giieat diaadvanta^e." 
 
 " Thou art right, <j*ijd.— But th«.t l»dy, the illus- 
 tnoius j>0BiQa Violetta Tkipoisi, the dangbter and 
 beipess^of a fjumed. senator, is now t}iy mistress. It 
 remains iot us to establish :her in the Ga^tle of Sa«it' 
 Agata, where I shall defy Yeniee and its agejDte." 
 
 <Gino bowed his head in submission, though he 
 6«st a looik behind, to make sure that jiione of those 
 agents, whom hie master set so openly at defiance, 
 were within ear-shot. 
 
 In (the mean time the gondola piroQeed«d« for the 
 diaitogue in no manner interrupted the exertions of 
 Giino, stiU hokling the dineetion oftheXido. As the 
 ia<ud4ree2se ifresdiened, the dj^erent vesgds in #ight 
 ^ided away, and by the time Don Camillo reached 
 the bawier of sand, which separates the XiSguoes 
 from tioss Adriatic, most of them jhaid glided ikrot^ 
 toe passages, and were now ^p^ their wwtses. 
 
268 f^BE BRAVO. 
 
 according to their different destinations, across the 
 open gulf. The young noble had permitted his peo- 
 ple to pursue the direction originally taken, in pure 
 indecision. He was certain that his bride was in 
 one of the many barks in sight, but he possessed no 
 clue to lead him towards the right one, nor any suf- 
 ficient means of pursuit, were he even master of 
 that important secret. When he landed, therefore, 
 it was with the simple hope of being able to form 
 some general conjecture as to the portion of the re- 
 public's dominions, in which he might search for her 
 he had lost, by observing to what part of the Adri- 
 atic the different feluccas held their way. He had 
 determined on inlmediate pursuit, however, and be- 
 fore he quitted the gondola, he once more turned to 
 his confidential gondolier to give the necessary in- 
 structions. 
 
 " Thou knowest, Gino," he said, « that there is 
 one born a vassal on my estates, here in the port, 
 with a felucca from the Sorrentine shore?" 
 
 " I know the man better than I know my own 
 faults, Signore, or even my own virtues." 
 
 " Go to him, at onccj and make sure of his -pres- 
 ence. I have imagined' a plan to decoy him into 
 the service of his lord ; but I would now know the 
 condition of his vessel." 
 
 Gino said a few words in commendation of the 
 zeal of his friend Stefano, and in praise of the 
 Bella Sorrentina, as the gondola receded from the 
 shore ; and then he dashed his oar into the water, 
 like a man in earnest to^execute the commission. 
 
 There is a lonely spot on the Lido di Palestrina, 
 where Catholic exclusion has decreed that the re. 
 mains of all who die in Venice, without the pale oJ 
 the church of Rome, shall moulder into their kin- 
 dred dust Though jt is not distant from the ordi- 
 nary landing and the few buildings which line the 
 shore, it is a place that, in itself, is no bad embktn 
 
THE BRAVO 269 
 
 of a hopeless lot. Solitary, exposed equally to the 
 hot airs of the south and the bleak blasts of the Alps, 
 frequently covered with the spray of the Adriatic, 
 and based on barren sands, the utmost that human 
 art, aided by a soil which has been fattened by hu- 
 man reniains, can do, has been to create around the 
 modest graves a meager vegetation, that is in slight 
 contrast to the sterility of most of the bank. This 
 place of interment is without the relief of ti'ees, at 
 the present day it is uninclosed, and in the opinions 
 of those who hSve set it apart for heretic and Jew, 
 it is unblessed. And yet, though condemned alike 
 to this, the last indignity which man can inflict on 
 his fellow, the two proscribed classes furnish a melan- 
 choly proof of the waywardness of human passions 
 and prejudice, by refusing to share in common the 
 scanty pittance of earth, which bigotry has allowed 
 for their everlasting repose ! While the protestant 
 sleeps by the side of prOtestant in exclusive obloquy, 
 the children of Israel moulder apart on the same 
 barren heath, sedulous to preserve, even in the 
 grave, the outward distinctions of faith. We shall 
 not endeavor to seek that deeply-seated principle 
 which renders man so callous to the most eloquent 
 and striking appeals to liberality, but rest satisfied 
 with being grateful that we have been born in a 
 land, in \(rnich the interests of ^el^on are as little 
 as possible sullied by the vicious contamination of 
 those of life; in which Christian humility is not ex- 
 hibited beneath the purple, nor Jewish adhesion by 
 intolerance ; in which man is left to care for the 
 welfare of his own soul, and in which, so far as the 
 human eye can penetrate, Gtod is worshipped for 
 iiims(!lf. 
 
 Don Camillo Monforte landed near the retired 
 
 erraves of the proscribed. As he wished to ascend 
 
 the low sand-hills, which have been thrown up by 
 
 the waves and the winds of the gulf, on tlie outei 
 
 za 
 
970 THE BRAVO 
 
 edge of the Lido, it was necessary that he shoidcl 
 pass directly across the contemned spot, or make 
 such a circuit as would have been inconvenient. 
 Crossing himself, with a'^perstitioH that was inter- 
 woven with all his habits and opinions, and loosen- 
 ing his TA^oBifin order that he might not 'miss the 
 succor of that good weapon) at need, he moved 
 across the heAtfi tenanted by the desp'sed dead, 
 taking care to avoid the moiddering h&.>ps of earth 
 which lay above the bones of heretic or Jew. He 
 had not mreaded more than half the graves, how 
 ever, when & humdn form arose from the grass, and 
 seemed to walk like one who mused on the moral 
 that the piles at his feet would be apt to excite. 
 Again Don Catnillo touched the handle of his rapier ; 
 then moving aside, in a manner to give himself an 
 equal advantage from the light of the moon, he 
 drew near the straAger. His ibofst«p was heard 
 for the other paused, regarded the approaching 
 cavalier, and folding his arms^ as it might be in sigo 
 of neutrality, awaited his nearer approach. 
 
 "Thou hast chosen a melancholy hour for thy 
 walk, Signore," said the young Neapolitan ; " and a 
 still more melancholy scene. I hope I do not in- 
 trude on an Israelite, or a Lutheran, who mourns 
 for his friend?" 
 
 " Don Camillo Monforte, I am, like yourself, a 
 Christian." 
 
 "Ha! Thou knowe$t me — 'tis Battieta, the goa 
 dolier that I once entertained in my household ?" 
 
 " Signore, 'tis not Battista." 
 
 As he spoke, the stranger faced the moon, in a 
 manner that threw all of its mild light upon his fea- 
 tures. 
 
 "Jacopo !" exclaimed the duke, recoiling, as did 
 all in Venice habitually, when that speaking eye was 
 unexpectedly met. 
 
 ' Sigtore-— JacopO." 
 
THE BRAVO. 271 
 
 In a moiQent the rapier of Dod CamiJlo glittered 
 in the rays of the moon. 
 
 " Keep thy distance, fellow, aad expkin the 
 motive thai hath brought thee thus across my sdi- 
 tudel" 
 
 The Bravo smiled, but his arms maiataioed their 
 fold. 
 
 " I inight, with eqoal justice, call upon the Duke 
 of Sant' Agata to furnish reasons, virhy he wanders 
 a.t this hour among the Hebrew graves." 
 
 " Nay, spare<hy plea«a«try ; I trifle not with men 
 of thy repuiation ; if any in Venice have thought 
 fit to emf^oy thee against my person, thou wilt have 
 need of aH thy courage and aldll, ere thou earnest 
 thy fee." 
 
 " Put up thy rapier, Don Camillo ; here is none to 
 do you harm. Tiiink you, if emjdoyed in the man- 
 ner you name, I would be in this spot to seek yoo 1 
 Ask vourself whether your visit here was known, 
 or whether it was more than the idle caprice of a 
 young noble, who finds his bed less easy than his 
 gondola. We have met, Duke of Sant' Agata, when 
 you distrusted my honor less." 
 
 " Thou speakest true, Jacopo ;" returned the no- 
 ble, suffering the point of his rapier to fall from be- 
 fore the breast of the Bravo, though he still hesitated 
 to withdraw the point "Thou sayest the truth. 
 My visit to this spot is indeed accidental, and thou 
 could'st not have possihly foreseen it. Why art thou 
 here?" 
 
 " Why are these here?" demanded Jacopo, point- 
 ing to the graves at his feet. " We are Irarn, and 
 we die-«-that ntuch is known to us all; but the 
 when and the where are mysteries, until time reveals 
 them." 
 
 " Thou art not a man to act without good mo- 
 tive Though these Israelites could not foresee their 
 
272 THE BkAVO. 
 
 visit to tiie Lido, thine hath not been without mten- 
 tjon." 
 
 " I am herci Don Camillo Monforte, because my 
 spirit hath need of room. I want the air of the sea 
 — the canals choke me — I can only breathe in free- 
 dom on this" bank of sand!" 
 
 " Thou hast another reason, Jacopo V 
 
 " Ay, Signoi/e — I lolhe yon City of crimes !" 
 
 As the Bravo spoke, he shook his hand in the cK 
 rection of the domes of St Mark, and the deep tones 
 of his voice appeared to. heave up from the depths of 
 his chest 
 
 " This is extraordinary language for a " 
 
 " Bravo ; speak the word boldly, Signore — ^it is no 
 stranger to my ears. But even the stiletto of a 
 Bravo is honorable, compared to that sword of pre- 
 tended justice which St Mark wields ! The common- 
 est hireling of Italy — he who will plant his dagger 
 in the heart of bis friend for two sequins, is a man 
 of open dealing, conypared to the merciless treach- 
 ery of some in yonder town !" 
 
 " I understand thee, Jacopo ; thou art, at length, 
 proscribed. The public voice, feint as it is in the 
 republic, has finally reached the ears of thy employ- 
 ers, and they withdraw their protection." 
 
 Jacopo regarded the noble, for an instant, with an 
 expression so ambiguous, as to cause the latter in- 
 sensibly to raise the point of his rapier, but when he 
 ■ answered,' it was with his ordinary quiet 
 
 " Signor Duca," he said, " I have been thought 
 worthy to be retained by Don Camillo Monforte !" 
 
 " I deny it not — and now that thou recallest the 
 occasion, new light breaks in upon me. Villain, to 
 thy faithlessness I owe the loss of my bride!" 
 
 Though the rapier was at the very throat of 
 ^acopo, he did not flinch. Gazing at his excited 
 companion, he laughed in a smothered manner, but 
 bitterly. 
 
THE BUAVO. 278 
 
 •* It would seem that the Lord of Sant* Agat& 
 wishes to rob me of my trade," he said. " Arise, 
 ye Israelites, and bear witness, lest men doubt the 
 fact I A common bravo of the canals is waylaid, 
 among your despised graves, by the proudest Sig- 
 Dor of Calabria I You have chosen your spot, in 
 mercy, Don Camillo, for sooner or later this crumb- 
 ling and sea-worn earth is to receive me. Were 1 
 to die at the altar itself, with the most penitent prayer 
 ■of holy church on my lips, the bigots would send 
 my body 'to rest among those hungry Hebrews and 
 accursed heretics. Yes, I am a man proscribed, and 
 unfit to sleep with the fahhful !" 
 
 His companion spoke with so strange a mixture 
 of irony and melancholy, that the purpose of Don 
 Camillo wavered. But remembering his loss, he 
 shook the rapier's point, and continued : — 
 
 " Thy taunts and effrontery will not avail thee, 
 knave;" he cried. "Thou knowest that I would 
 have engaged thee as the leader of a chosen band, 
 to favor the flight of one dear from Venice." 
 
 " Nothing more true, ignore." 
 
 " And thou didst refuse the service ?" 
 
 " Noble duke, I did." 
 
 " Not content with this, having leai ned the par- 
 ticulars of my project, thou sold the secret to the 
 senate if" 
 
 " Don Camillo Monforte, I did not. My engage- 
 ments with the council would not permit me to 
 serve you; else, by the brightest star of yonder 
 vault I it would have gladdened my heart to have 
 witnessed the happiness of two young and faithful 
 lovers. No — no— no; they know me not, who 
 think I cannot find pleasure in the joy of another 
 ' told you that I was the senate's, — and fhere the 
 matter ended." 
 
 " And I had the weakness to believfe thee, Jaeopo, 
 'iti thou hast a character so strangely compounded 
 
274 THE BKaVO. 
 
 of good and evil, and bearest so fair a narre for ob- 
 .servance of tby faith, that the seeming frankness 
 of the answer lulled me to security. Fellow, 1 
 have been betrayed, and that at the moment vphen 
 [ thought success most sure." 
 
 Jacopo manifested interest, but, as he moved 
 slowly on, accompanied by the vigilant and zealous 
 noble, he smiled coldly, like one who had pity for 
 the other's credulity. 
 
 " In bitterness of soul, I have cursed the whole 
 race for its treachery;" continued the Neapolitan. 
 
 "This is rather for the priore of St. Mark^ than 
 for the ear of one who carries a public stiletto." 
 
 " My gondola has been imitated — the liveries of 
 my people copied- — my bride stolen.: — Thou an- 
 swerest not, Jacopo?" 
 
 " What answer would you have ? You have been 
 cozened, Signore, in a state, whose very prince 
 dare not trust his secrets to his wife. You would 
 have robbed Venice of an heiress, and Venice 
 has robbed you of a bride. You have played 
 high, Don Camillo, and have lost a heavy stake. 
 You have thought of your own wishes and rights, 
 while you have pretended to. serve Venice with the 
 Spaniard." 
 
 Don Camillo started in surprise. 
 
 " Why this wonder, Signore ? — You forget that 1 
 have lived much among those who weigh the 
 chances of every political interest, and that your 
 name is often in their mouths. This marriage is 
 doubly disagreeable to Venice, who has nearly as 
 much need of the bridegroom as of the bride. The 
 council hath long ago forbidden the banns." 
 
 " Ay — but the means 1 — explain the means by 
 which I have been duped, lee', the treachery be 
 ascribed to thee." 
 
 " Signore, the very marbles of the city give up 
 tlieir secrets to the state. I have seen much, and 
 
THE BEAVO. 275 
 
 understood much, when my superiors have believed 
 me merely a tool ; but I have seen much that even 
 those 'vVho employed me could not comprehend. I 
 could have foretold this consummation of your nup- 
 tials, had 1 known of their celebration." 
 
 " This thou could'st not have done, without being 
 an agent of their treachery." 
 
 ■ "The schemes of the selfish may be foretold ;' ft 
 is only the generous and the honest that baffle cal- 
 culation. He who can gain a knowledge of the 
 present intdrd^t of Venice is master of her dearest 
 .secrets of state ; for what she wishes she will do, 
 unless the service cost too dear. As for the means 
 — how can they be wanting in a household like 
 jraurs, Signore?" 
 
 "I trusted none but those deepest in my con* 
 fidenoe." 
 
 "Don CamillO) there is not a servitor in your 
 palace, Gino alone excepted, who is not a hireling 
 of the senate, or of its agents. The very gondoliers, 
 who row you to your daily pleasures, have had 
 their hands crossed with the republic's sequins. 
 Nay, they are not only paid to watch you, but to 
 wateh each other." 
 
 " Can this be true ! " 
 
 "Have you ever doubted it, Signore?" asked 
 Jacopo, looking up like one who admired at 
 another's simphcity. 
 
 " I knew them to be false — pretenders to a faith 
 that in secret they mock ; but I had not believed 
 they dared to tamper with the veiy menials of my 
 nerson. This undermining of the security of fami- 
 lies is to destroy society at its core !" 
 
 " You talk like one who hath not been long a 
 oridegroom, Signore ;" said the Bravo with a hol- 
 low laugh. " A year hence, you may know what 
 it is to have y6ur own wife turning your secret 
 dioughts into guld." 
 
 18 
 
,876 THE BRAVD. 
 
 " And thou servestthem, JaCopo ?" 
 
 "Who does not, in sotne manner suited to his 
 ivabits? We are not masters of our fortune, Don 
 Camillo, or the Duke of Sant' Agata would not be 
 turning his influence with a relative, to the advan- 
 tage of the republic. What I have done hath not 
 been done without bitter peniteacei tmd an agony 
 of Boul, that your own light servitude may have 
 spared you, Signore*" 
 
 "Poor Jacopo!" 
 
 "If I have lived through it all, 'tis because one 
 mistier than the state hath not deserted me. . But, 
 Don Camillo Monforte, there are crimes which pass 
 beyond the powers of man to endure." 
 
 The Bravo shuddered, and he moved amoi^ the 
 despised graves, in silence. 
 
 " They have then proved too ruthless even for 
 thee?" said Don Camillo, who watched the con- 
 tracting eye and heaving form of his companion, in 
 wondei*. 
 
 " Signore, they have. I have witnessed, this 
 night, a proof of their heartlessness and bad faith, 
 that hath caused me 1» look forward to my own 
 fate. The delusion is over ; from th^ hour I serve 
 them no longer." 
 
 The Bravo spoke with deep feding, and his com- 
 panion fancied, strange as it was coming from such 
 a man, with an air of wounded integrity. Don 
 Camillo knew that thei^e was no condition of life, 
 bowever degraded or tost to the worid, which had 
 not its ovra particular Opinions of the faith d»*6 to its 
 fellows ; and he htid seen enough <rf the sinuous 
 course of the oligarchy of Venice, to underhand 
 that it was quite possible its shamdess and irneepon- 
 sible duplicity might oflfeiid the prindples of e"en 
 an assassin. Less odium was attached to mrai of 
 that class, in Italy and at that day, than will be 
 easily imagined in a country like thisj for the radi* 
 
THE BRAVO 277 
 
 cal defects and the vicious administration of the 
 iaw8, caused an irritable and sensitive people too 
 often to take into their own hands, the right of re- 
 dressing their own wrongs. Custom had lessenea 
 the odium of the crime, and though society de- 
 nounced the assassin himself, it is scarcely too 
 much to say, that his/emj^oyer was regarded with 
 little more disgust than tl^ religious of our time re- 
 gard the siirvivor of a private combat Still it was 
 not usual for nobles like Don Camillo to hold inter- 
 course, bevond that which the required service ex- 
 acted, with men of Jacopo's cast ; but the language 
 and manner of the Bravo so strongly attracted the 
 curiosity, and even the sympathy of his companion 
 that the latter unconsciously sheathed his rapier and 
 drew nearer. 
 
 "Thy penitence and regrets, Jacopo, may lead 
 thee yet nearer to virtue," he said, " than mere aban- 
 donment of the senate's service. Seek out some 
 godly priest, and ease thy soul, by confession and 
 prayer." 
 
 The Bravo trembled in every limb, and his eye 
 turned wistfully to the countenance of the other. 
 
 " Speak, Jacopo ; even I will hear thee, if thou 
 would'st remove the mountain from thy breast" 
 
 " Thanks, noble Signore ! a thousand thaiiks for 
 this glimpse of sympathy, to which I have long been 
 a stranger ! None know how dear a word of kind- 
 ness is, as he who has been condemned by all, as I 
 have been. 1 have prayed — ^I have craved — ^I have 
 wept for some ear to listen to my tale, and I thought 
 I had found one who would have heard me without 
 scorn, when the oold policy of the senate struck him. 
 t came h^e te commune with the hated dead, when 
 chance brought us together. Could I — " the Bravo 
 paused and looked doubtfully, again, at his com 
 panion. 
 
 * Say en, Jacopo.'"' 
 
 2 A 
 
U78 THE BRAVO. 
 
 " I have not dared to trust my secrets even to the 
 confessional, Signore, and can I be so bold as to 
 offer them to you 1" 
 
 " Truly, it is a strange behest!" 
 
 " Signore, it is. You are noble, I am of humble 
 blood. Your ancestors were senators and doges of 
 Venice^ while mine have been, since the fishermen 
 first built, their huts in the Lagunes, laborers on the 
 canals, and rowers of gondolas. You are powerful 
 and rich, and courted; while I am denounced, and, 
 in secret, I fear, condemned. In short, you are Don 
 Camillo Monforte, and I am Jaeopo Frontoni!" 
 
 Don Camillo was touched, for the Bravo spoke 
 without bitterness, and in deep sorrow. 
 
 *' I would thou wert at the confessional, poor Ja- 
 eopo!" he said; "I am little able to give ease td 
 such a burthen." ■ 
 
 " Signore, I have lived too 'long, shut out from the 
 good wishes of my fellows, and I can bear with it 
 no longer. The accursed senate may cut me off 
 without warning, and then who will stop to look at 
 my grave. Signore, I must speak, or die !" 
 
 " Thy case is piteous, Jaeopo ! — Thou hast need 
 of ghostly counsel." 
 
 " Here is no priest, Signore, and I carry a weight 
 past bearing. The only man who has shown inter- 
 est in me, for three long and dreadful years, is 
 gone !" 
 
 " But he will return, poor Jaeopo." 
 
 " Signore, he will never return. He is with the 
 fishes of the Lagunes." 
 
 " By thy hand, monster !" 
 
 " By the justice of the illustrious republic," said 
 the Bravo, with a smothered but bitter smile. 
 
 " Ha ! they are then awake to the acts of thy 
 class? Thy repentance is the fruit of fear !" 
 
 Jaeopo seemed choked. He had evidently count- 
 ed on the awakened sympathy of his companion, 
 
THE BRAVO 270 
 
 notwithstanding the difference in fheir situations, and 
 to be thus thrown o(f again, unmanned him. He 
 shuddered, and every muscle and nerve appeared 
 about to yield its powel'. Touched by so unequivo- 
 cal signs of suffering, Don Camiiio kept close at his 
 side, rekictant to enter more deeply mta the feelings 
 of one of his known character, and yet unable to 
 lesert a fellow-creature in So grieVous^ agony/ 
 ' " Signor Duca," said the Bravo, with a |»athos in 
 his voice that went to the heart of hi* auditor; " leave 
 me. If they a*k for a prosteribed man, let them come 
 here; in the morning they will find my body near 
 the graves of the heretics." 
 
 "Speak, I will hear thee." 
 
 Jacopo looked up with doubt expressed on his 
 features. 
 
 "Unburthen thyself; I will listen, though thou 
 recourited the assassination of my deiarest friend." 
 
 The oppressed Bravb gazed at him, as if he still 
 distrusted his sincerity. His face worked, and his 
 look became still more wistful ; but as Don Oamillo 
 faced the moon, and betrayed the extent of his Sym- 
 pathy* the other burst into tears. 
 
 " Jacopo, I will hear thee — I will hear thee, pooV 
 Jacopo ! " cried Don Camillo, shocked at this exhibi- 
 tion of distress in one so stern by nature. A wave 
 from the hand of the Bravo silenced him, and Jacopo, 
 struggling with himself for a moment, spoke. 
 
 "You have saved a soul from perdition, Signore," 
 he said, smothering his emotion. " If the happy 
 knew how much power belongs to a single word of 
 kindness — a glance of feeling, when given to the 
 despised, they would not look so coldly on the mis- 
 erable. This night must have been my last, had 
 you cast me off without pity— but you will hear 
 my tale, Signore — you will not scorn the confession 
 of a Bravo?" 
 
380 THE BRAVO. 
 
 " I have promised. Be brief, for at this moment 
 I have great care of my own." 
 
 " Signore, I know not the whole of your wrongs, 
 but they will not bo less likely to be redressed for 
 this grace.", 
 
 Jacopo made an effort to command himself, when 
 he commenced his tale. 
 
 The course of the narrative does not require that 
 we shoidd accompany this exta'aordinary man, 
 through the relation of the secrets he imparted to 
 Don CamiUo. It is enough, for our piiesent pcrposes 
 to say, that, as he proceeded, the young Calabrian 
 noble drew nearer to his side, ahd listened with 
 growing interest. The Duke of Sant' Agata scarce- 
 ly breathed, while his con^nion, with that energy 
 of language and feeling which marks Italian char- 
 acter, recounted his secret sorrows, and the scenes 
 in which he had been an actor. Long before he 
 was done, Don CamiUo had forgotten his own pri- 
 vate causes of concern, and, by the time the tale 
 was finished, every shade of disgust had gpren place 
 to an ungovernable expression of pity. In short, so 
 eloquent was the speaker, and so interesting the 
 ^acts with which he dealt, that he iseemed to play 
 with the sympaAies of the listener, as the impro^d- 
 satore of that region is known to lead captive 4he 
 passions of the admiring crowd. 
 
 During the time Jacepo was spealdng, he anef his 
 wondering auditor had passed Aie limits of the de- 
 spised cemetery ; and as the voice of the former 
 ceased, they stood on the outer beach of the I^ido 
 When the low tones of the Bravo were no longer 
 audible, they were succeeded by the suiien wash of 
 the Adriatic. 
 
 " This surpasseth belief !" Don Camiiio exclaim- 
 ed, after a long pause, which had only been (Usturb. 
 ed by the rush and retreat of the waters. 
 
 " S^nore, as holy Maria is kind ' it is true." 
 
THK BRAVO. 281 
 
 " I doubt you not, Jacopo-^poor Jacopo ! I can- 
 not, distrust a tale thus told ! Thou hast, indeed, been 
 a victim of their hellish du{dicity, and well mayest 
 thou say, the load was past bearing. What is thy 
 intention ?" 
 
 " I serve them no longer^ Don Camillo — I wait 
 only for the last solemn scene, which is now cer- 
 tain, and then I quit this city of deceit, i to seek my 
 fortune m another region. Thisy have blasted my 
 youth, and loaded my name with infamy. — God may 
 yet lighten the'load !" 
 
 " Reproach not thyself beyond reason, Jacopo, 
 for the happiest and most fortunate of us all are not 
 above the power of tamptation. Thou knowest that 
 even my name and rank have not, altogether, pro- 
 tected me from their arts." 
 
 " I know them capable, Signore, of deluding an- 
 gels ! Their arts are only surpassed by their means, 
 and their pretence of virtue by their indifference to 
 its practice." 
 
 « Thou sayest true, Jacopo : the truth is never in 
 greater danger, than when whole communities lend 
 themselves to the vicious deception of seemliness, 
 and without truth there is no virtue. This it is to 
 substitute profession for practice — to use the altar 
 . for a worldly purpose — and to bestow power with 
 out any other responsibility than that which is ex- 
 acted by the selfishness of caste! Jacopo — poor 
 Jacopo ! thou shah be my servitor — I am lord of 
 my own seignories, and once rid of this specious 
 republic, I charge myself with the care of thy safety 
 and fortunes. Be at peace as respects thy con- 
 science : I have interest near the holy see, and thou 
 shalt not want absolution'" 
 
 The gratitude of the Bravo was more vivid m 
 
 ^ling than in expression. He kissed the hand of 
 
 Don Camillo, but it was with a reservation of self- 
 
 rvspect, th^t belonged to the character of the man. 
 
 2 A 2 
 
S82 TSm^ BRAVO. 
 
 "A system like this of Venice," coatinued the 
 musing noble, " leaves none of us masters of our 
 own acts. The wiles of such a combination are 
 stronger than the will. It clokes its offences against 
 right in a thousand specious forms, arid it enlists the 
 support of every man, under the pretence oi a sac 
 risfice for the common good. We oden fancy our- 
 selves simple dealers in some justifiable state in- 
 trigue, when in truth we are deep in sin. Falsehood 
 is the parent of all crimes, and in no case has it a 
 progeny so numerous, as that in which its own 
 birth is derived from the state. I fear I may have 
 made sacrifices, to this treacherous influence, I 
 could wish forgotten." 
 
 Though Don Camillo soliloquized, rather than ad 
 dressed his companion, it was evident, by the train 
 of his thoughts, that the narrative of Jacopo had 
 awakened disagreeable reflections, on the manner 
 tn which he had pushed his own claims, with the 
 senate. Perhaps he felt the necessity of some apolo- 
 gy to one who, though so much his inferior in rank, 
 was so competent to appreciate his conduct, and 
 who had just denounced in the strongest language, 
 his own fatal subserviency to. the arts of that in'e- 
 sponsible and meretricious body. 
 
 Jacopo uttered a few words of a geiie<fa.I nature, 
 but such as had a tendency to quiet the uneasiness 
 of his companion; after which, with a readiness 
 that proved him qualified for the many delicate mis- 
 sions with which he had been charged, he ingeni- 
 ously turned the discourse to the recent abduction 
 of Donna Violetta, with the offer of rendering his 
 new employer all the services in his poww to re 
 gam his bride. 
 
 " That thou mayest know all thou hast under 
 taken," rejoined Don Camillo, " listen, Jacopo, and 
 ' will conceal nothing from thy shrewdness." 
 . The Duke of Sant' Agata now briefly, but expK 
 
THE 'BRATO. f83 
 
 ziiivt laid bare to his companion aH his o^im views 
 and measures, with respect to her he loved, and all 
 those events, with which the reader has already be- 
 come acquainted. 
 
 The Bravo gave great attention to the minntest 
 parts of the detAil, and more than once, as die other 
 proceeded, he smiled to himself, like a ntaii who 
 was able to trace the secret means, by which this 
 or tJrmX intrigue had been efiected. The whole was 
 just related, when the sound of a footstep announced 
 the return of Gino. 
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 "Pale she laok*d. 
 Yet cheerfiil ; though methought, once, if not tinoa, 
 She wiped away a tear that would be coming." 
 
 RoOERS. 
 
 The hours passed as if naught had occurred, 
 within the barriers of the city, to disturb their pro- 
 gi-esH. On the followii^ morning men proceeded to 
 their several pursuits, erf business or of pleasure, as 
 had been done for ages, and none stopped to ques- 
 tion his neighbor of the scene which might have 
 taken place during the night. Some were gay, and 
 others sorrowing ; some idle, and others occupied ; 
 here one toiled, there another sported ; and Venice 
 presented, as of wont, its noiseless, suspicious, busy 
 mysterious, and yet stirring throngs, as it had before 
 done at a thousand similar risings of the sun. 
 
 The menials lingered around the water-gate of 
 Donna Violetta's palace, with distrustful but cautious 
 faces, scarce whispering among themselves their 
 secret suspicions of the &te of their mistress. The 
 
r jS84 Tinr'BKSvo. 
 
 residence of the Signor Gradenigo presented its 
 usual gloomy magnificence, while the abode of Don 
 Camillo Monforte betrayed no sign of the heavy 
 disappointment which its master had sustained. 
 The , Bella Sorrentina still lay in the pbrt, with a 
 yard on deck, while the crew repaired its sail in the 
 lazy manner of mariners, who work without excite 
 ment 
 
 The Lagunes were dotted with the boats of fish- 
 ermen and travellers, arrived and departed from the 
 city, by the well-known channels of Pusina and Mes- 
 tre. Here, some adventurer from the north quitted 
 the canals, on his return towards the Alps, carrying 
 with him a pleasing picture of the ceremonies he 
 had witnessed, mingled with some crude conjectures 
 of that power which predominated in the suspected 
 state ; and there, a countryman of the Main sought 
 his little farm, satisfied with the pageants and re- 
 gatta of the previous day. In short, all seemed as 
 usual, and the events we have related remained a se- 
 cret with the actors, and that mysterious council 
 which had so large a share in their existence. 
 
 As the day advanced,- many a sail was spread for 
 the pillars of Hercules, or the genial Levant, and 
 feluccas, mystics and golettas, w^ent and came as the 
 land or sea-breeze prevailed. Still the mariner of 
 Calabria lounged beneath the awning which shelter- 
 ed his deck, or took his siesta on a pile of old sails, 
 which were ragged with the force of many a hot 
 sirocco. As the sun fell, the gondolas of the great 
 and idle began to glide over the water; and when 
 the two squares were cooled by the air of the Adri- 
 stic, the Broglio began to fill with those privileged 
 to pace its vaulted passage. Among these came the 
 Duke of Sant' Agata, who, though an alien to the 
 laws of the republic, being of so illustrious descent, 
 and of claims so equitable, was received among the 
 •enators, in their moments of ease, as" a welcome 
 
THE BRAVO. 28Bl 
 
 shares m this vain distinction. He entered the 
 BrogMo at the wonted hour, and with his usual com- 
 posure, for he trusted to his secret influence at Rome, 
 and something to the success of his livals^for impu- 
 nity. Reflection had shown Don CamiUo that,' as 
 his plans were known to the council, they would 
 long since have arrested him, had such been their 
 intention ; and it had also led him to believe, that 
 the most efficient manner of avoiding the personal 
 eoneequences of his adventure, was to show confi- 
 dence in his own powder to withstand them. When 
 he appeared, therefore, leaning on the arm of a high 
 officer of the papal emfeassyj 'and with an eye that 
 spoke assurance in himself, he was greeted, as usual, 
 by all who knew him, as was due to his rank and 
 expectations. Still Don Gamillo walked among the 
 
 Satricians of the repubfe with novel sensations 
 fore than once he thought he detected, in the wan 
 dering glances of those with whom he conversed, 
 signs of theii" knowledge of his frustrated attempt, 
 and more than once, when he least suspected such 
 scrutiny, his countenance was watched, as if the 
 observer sought spme ©vfidence of his future inten- 
 tion§.i • Beyond this, none might have discovered that 
 an heiress of so much importance had been so near 
 being lost to the state, or, on the other hand, that a 
 bridegroom had been robbed of his bride, s Habitual 
 art, on the part of the state, and resolnte but wary 
 intention^ on the part of the young noble, concealed 
 all else from obser'^atiou. 
 
 In this manner the day passed, not a tongue ir 
 Venice, beyond those which whispered in secret 
 making any allusion to the incidents of our tale. 
 ■ ■ Just as the sun was settings a gondola.; swept slow- 
 ly up to the water-gate of the duckl palace. The gon- 
 dolier landed, fastened his boat in the nsual manner 
 to the» stepping-stones, and entered the court He 
 wore a mask, for the hour of disguise had come, and 
 
386 THE HBAva 
 
 his attwe was so like the ordinary fashion of meo 
 of his class, as to defeat recognition by iis ^cnpficky. 
 Glancing an eye about iura, }^ entered the buHding 
 Dv a private door. / 
 
 ' The edifice in vrhich the Doges of Venice dwuH 
 stili ^stands a gknamy mannmsnit of the fwliey ef IJie 
 republic, fumisbibg evidence, in itsdf^of tlie spe- 
 cious cbaracterof the prince whom it held. It is 
 built around a vast b»t ^agny court, as is usual with 
 neariy tiU of the principal ediiices of Emnafje. One 
 of its fronts forms a side of the piazzetta, so often 
 mentioned, and another lines the quay next tbe port 
 The architecture of these two exterior &ces of the 
 palacie renders the structure remarkable. A low 
 portico, j\rhich forms the BrogHo, sustains a row of 
 massive oriental windows, and a3)ove these again 
 lies a pile of masonry, slightly relieved by apertures, 
 which reverses the ordinary usen of the arts. A 
 third Iront is neady coiK:ealed by the cathedral of 
 St Mark, and the feaarth is washed foy its canal. 
 The pd^ic prison of the -oity feiTms the ether side 
 of tins c&raii, leloqueBlly prodaifniiiiig the nature of 
 the govemment by ithe lelosc approKiibotion of the 
 powers of legifilation and of punislhinent. Th6 fa- 
 mous Bridge of S^hs is the material, and we might 
 add the metaphorical, link between the two. The 
 latter edifice stands on the quay, also, and though 
 less lofty and spacious, in point of architectural beau- 
 ty rt is the superior structure, though the quaintness 
 and unusual style of the palaee is most apt to attract 
 'Vtteation. 
 
 The masked gondolier soon reappeared beneath 
 the arch of the water-gate, and with a hurried sl^ 
 he sought his boat fit required but a. minute to 
 eross the canal, to land on the opposilie quay, and to 
 enter the public door of the prison. It widinM seem 
 that he had some secret means of satisfying' the vi» 
 gilaoee'of the di&n&at keepers, fisr bolts ««ere drawn. 
 
tm' BRAva 287 
 
 and 4i9ors unlocked, with little questioo, whereT«r he 
 presented himself, ia this manner he quickly passed 
 all the outer JiarrierB of theKpsdace, and reached a 
 
 tnrt of the toildk^ wtucfa a»d the appeascaaise @f 
 )eing fitted for the accommodation of a fainily. 
 Judging from the air of aH around hinii those who 
 dwslt there took die luxury of their abode but tittle 
 into the account, though neither the furniture oor the 
 rooms were WEUiting in most of the necessaries, 
 siuted to peopJA of tneir class and the climate, and 
 in that age. • 
 
 The goiidolier had ascended a private stairway, 
 and he was now before a door, which had none of 
 those signs of a prison, tiiat so freely abouoded in 
 other parts of the building. He paused to listen, 
 and then tapped, with siu^ar caution. 
 
 " Who is without ?" asnad a gentle female- voice, 
 at the same instant that the latch moved and fell 
 again, as if she within waited to be assured of the 
 character of her visitor, before she opened the door 
 
 " A friend to thee, Gelsomina ;" was the answer. 
 
 " Nay. here all are friends to the keepers, if words 
 can be bebeved. You must name yourself, or go, 
 elsewhere for yonr answer." 
 
 The gondolier removed the mask a little, which 
 had altered his voice as well as concealed his face. 
 
 *' It is I, Geseinai" he said, using the diminutive ol 
 her name. 
 
 The bolts grated, and the door was hurriedly 
 opened. 
 
 " It is wonderful that I did not kcow thee, Carlo !" 
 ;aid the female, with es^er simplicity; "but thou 
 .akest so many disguises of kite, and so counterfeU- 
 est stmngQ voices, that thiEie own mother anight have 
 distrusted her ear." 
 
 The gondolier paused to -makt. certain they were 
 alone; then, laying aside the raask altogether, he 
 9X905ed the ieatuces of the Bravo. 
 
■iSS THE BRAVO. 
 
 " Thou knowest the need of caution," he added/ 
 ■' and wilt not judge me harshly." 
 
 « I said not that, Carlo — but thy voice is so famil- 
 iar, that I thought it wonderful thou could'st speieik 
 as a stranger." 
 
 " Hast thou aught for me?" 
 
 The gentle girl, for she was both young and gen 
 tie, hesitated. 
 
 " Hast thou aught new, Gelsomina?" repeated the 
 Bravo, reading her innocent face with his searching 
 glance. 
 
 " Thou art fortunate in not being sooner in the 
 prison. I have just had a viator. Thou would'st 
 not have liked to be seen, Caria?" 
 
 " Thou knowest I have good reasons for corning 
 masked. I might, or T might not have disliked thy 
 acquaintance, as he should' have proved." 
 
 " Nay, now thoti judgest wrong ;" returned the 
 female, hastily, " I had nb other, here, but my cousin, 
 Annina." ' 
 
 "Dost thou think me jealous T" said the Bravo, 
 smiling in kindness, as he took her bland. " Had it 
 been thy cousin Pietro, or Michele, or Roberto, or 
 any other youth of Venice, I should have no other 
 dread than that of being known." 
 
 "But it was only Annina — my cousin, Annina, 
 whom thou hast never seen — and I have no cousins 
 Pieiro, and Michele,. and Roberto. We are not 
 many. Carlo. Annina has a brother, but he never 
 comes hither. Indeed it is long since she has found 
 it convenient to qftit her trade to come to this dreary 
 pilace. Few children of sisters see each other so 
 seldom as Annina and I!" 
 
 "Thou art a good girl, Gessina, and art always 
 to he found near thy mother. Hast thou naught in 
 particular, for my ear?" 
 
 Again the soft eyes of Gelsomina, or Gessina, as 
 bhe was familiarly called, dropped to the floor-^bat 
 
THE BRAVO. 289 
 
 raising them, ere he could note the circumstance, she 
 hurriedly continued the discourse. 
 
 " I fear Annina will return, or I would go with 
 thee, at once." 
 
 "Is this cousin of thuie still here, then?" asked 
 the Bravo, with uneasiness. — " Thou knowest I 
 would not be seen." 
 
 " Fear not She cannot enter without touching 
 that bell, for she is above with my poor bed-ridden 
 mother. Thou canst go into the inner room, as 
 usual, when she comes, and listen to her idle dis- 
 course, if thou wih — or — but we have not time — for 
 Annina cbmes seldom, and I know not why, but she 
 seems to love a sick room Uttle, as she never stays 
 mdny minutes with her aunt." 
 
 " Thou would'st have said, or I might go on my 
 errand, GessinaT" 
 
 " I would. Carlo — but I am certain we should be 
 recalled by my impatient cousin." 
 
 " I can wait ; I am patient when with thee, dear- 
 est Gessina." 
 
 « Hist ! — 'Tis my cousin's step. — Thou canst 
 go in." 
 
 While she spoke, a pmall bell rang, and the Bravo 
 withdrew into the inner room, like one accustomed 
 to that place of retreat. He left the door ajar, for 
 the darkness of the closet sufficiently concealed his 
 person. In the mean time, Gelsomina opened the 
 outer door for the admission of her visitor. At the 
 first sound of the latter's voice, Jacopo, who had 
 little suspected the fact from a name which was so 
 common, recognized the artful daughter of the 
 wine-seller. 
 
 " Thou art at thy ease, here, Gelsomina," cried 
 the latter, entering and throwing herself into a seat, 
 like one fatigued. " Thy mother is better, and thou 
 art truly mistress of the house." 
 2B 
 
21K) 'IWi.. MA^ 
 
 " I would I were not, Annina, for I am youi^ to 
 have this trust, with this affliction." 
 
 " It is not so insupportskble, <^i^sijaa»to be mistrois 
 w.thin doors, at seventeen! Ai't^'oiity is sweet, aa^ 
 ^obedience is odious*" 
 
 " I have foimd neither so, ant* ' will give up tb 
 fi: st with joy, whenever my poc mot^r shaii l» 
 alle to take commajid of her ow6 f imly, again." 
 
 " This is well, Gessina, and doer c edit to dan 
 good father confessor. But authoIi^^ is dear tt 
 won),an, and so is liberty. Thou wast i<>i with tk 
 maskers yesterday, in the square V 
 
 " I seldom wear a disguise, and I coti * uot q-.-^ 
 my mother." 
 
 " Which means that thou would'st have been glaa 
 to do it. Thou hast good reason for thy regretK 
 since a gayer marriage of the sea, or a brave* 
 regatta, has not been witnessed in Venice, sine, 
 thou wast born. But the first was to be seen fros* 
 thy window?" 
 
 " I saw the galley of state sweeping toward tibk 
 Lido, and the train of patricians on it& deck ; b*> 
 little else." 
 
 " No matter. Thou shalt have as good an id© 
 of the pageant as if thou had'st played the part o 
 the doge himselfl First came the men of the guar<> 
 with thisir ancient dresses — " 
 
 " Nay, tliis I remember to have oHen seen ; f» 
 the same show is kept from year to year." 
 
 " Thou art right ; but Venice never witnesses 
 such a brave regatta ! Thou knowest that the firsi 
 trial is always between gondolas of many oars, 
 steered by the best esteemed of the canal&. Lui^ 
 was there, and though he did not win, he more than 
 merited success, by the manner in which l»e direct- 
 ed his boat. Thou knowest Luigi T " 
 
 "1 scarce know any in Venice, Annina, for th« 
 ong illness of my mother, and this unhappy office 
 
THE BRAVO. 291 
 
 of my fathes keep me' within, when otheis are on 
 the cansls." 
 
 *< True. Thou art not well placed to make ac- 
 quaintances. But Luigi is second to no gondolier, 
 in skill or reputation, and he is much the merrier 
 rogue of them all, that put foot on the Lido." 
 
 " He was foremost, tiien, in the grand race T" 
 
 " He should have been, but the awkwardness of 
 his fellows, and some onfaimess in the crossing, 
 threw hkn back to be second. "Twas a sight tc 
 behold, that of many noble watermen struggling tc 
 maintain or to get a name on the canals. Santa 
 Maria ! I would thou could'st have seen it, girl !" 
 
 " I should not have been glad to see a friend 
 defeated." 
 
 " We must take fortune as it ofiers. But the most 
 wonderful sight of the day, after ail, though Luigi 
 and ifais fellows did so wefl, was to see a poor fisher- 
 man, named Antonio, 'm his bare head and naked 
 legs, a man of seventy years, and with a boat no 
 better than that I use to carry liquors to the Lido, 
 etitering on the second race, ara carrying off the 
 prize!" 
 
 *' He oouM not ha-ve met with powerful rivals 1" 
 
 "The best of Venice; tiiough Luigi, having 
 strived for the first, coiM not enter for the second 
 trial. 'Tis said, too," continued Annina, looking 
 mfeout her wi(9» habitual cautten, " that one, wfco may 
 scarce be named in Venice, had the boldness to ap- 
 pear in that regatta masked ; and yet the fisherman 
 won ! Thou bast heard of iTacopo ?" 
 
 " The name is common." 
 
 " There is but one who bears it now, in Venice 
 —AM meaa the same when they say Jacopo." 
 
 " I have beard of a monster of that name. Surely 
 he hath not dared to show himself among the no 
 Ues, on such a festa !" 
 
 '^GSessina, we live in an unancountabie coiHllrv 
 19 
 
293 THE BRAVQ 
 
 The man walks the piazza with a step as lordly as 
 the doge, at his pleasure, and yet none say aught to 
 him ! I have seen him, at noonday, leaning^ against 
 the triumphal mast, or the column of San TeodoEO, 
 with as proud ^ an air as if he were put there to 
 celebrate a victory of the republic !" 
 
 "Perhaps he is master of some terrible secret, 
 which they fear he will reveal'?" 
 
 "Thou knowest Uttle of "Venice, child! Holy 
 Maria ! a secret of that kind is a death-warrant of 
 itself. It is as dangerous to know too much, as it 
 is to know too little, when one deals with St MarL 
 But they say Jacopo was there, standing eye to eye 
 with the doge, and searing the senators as if he had 
 been an uncalled spectre from the vaults of their 
 fathers. Nor is this all ; as I crossed the Lagunes 
 this morning, I saw the body of a young cavalier 
 drawn from the water, and those who were near it, 
 said it had the mark of his fatal hand !" 
 
 The timid Gelsomina shuddered. 
 
 " They who rule," she saif', " will have to answer 
 for this negligence to God, if they let the wiretch 
 longer go at large." 
 
 "Blessed St. Mark protect his children! They 
 say there is much of this sort of sin to answer for — 
 but see the body I did, with my own eyes, in enter- 
 ing the canals thi? morning." 
 
 "And didst thou sleep on the Lido, that thou 
 wert abroad so early ?" 
 
 " The Lido — ^yes — ^nay — I slept not, but thou 
 knowest my father had a busy day during the 
 re-els, and I am not like thee, Gessina, mistress of 
 the household, to do as I would. But I tarry here 
 to chat with thee, when there is great need of in- 
 dustry at home. Hast thou the package, child, 
 which I trusted to thy keeping, at my last visit?" 
 
 " It is here," answered Gelsomina, opening a 
 drawer, and handing to her cousin a small but 
 
THE BRAVO. 293 
 
 eiosely enveloped package, which, unknown to her- 
 Belf, contained some articles of forbidden commerce, 
 and which the other, in her indefatigable activity, 
 had been obliged to secrete for a time. " I had lie- 
 gun to think tnat thou hadst forgotten it, and was 
 about to send it to thee." 
 
 " Gelsomina, if thou lovest me, never do so rash 
 an act ! My brother Guiseppe — thou scarce know 
 est Guiseppe T" 
 
 " We nave little acquaintance, for cousins." 
 
 " Thou art fortunate in thy ignorance. I cannot 
 say what I might of the child of the same parents, 
 but had Guiseppe seen this package, by any acci- 
 dent, it .might nave brought thee into great trouble!" 
 
 " Nay, r fear not thy brother, nor any else," said 
 the daughter of the prison-keeper, with the firmness 
 of innocence ; " he could do me no harm for dealing 
 kindly by a relative." 
 
 " Thou art right ; but he might have caused me 
 great vexation. Sainted Maria ! if thou knewest 
 the pain that unthinking and misguided boy gives 
 his family ! He is my brother, after all, and you 
 will fancy the rest Addio, good Gessina ; I hope 
 thy father will permit thee to come and visit, at last, 
 those who so much love thee." 
 
 ", Addio, Annina ; thou knowest I would come 
 gladly, but that I scarce quit the side of my poor 
 mother." 
 
 The wily daughter, of the wine-seller gave her 
 guileless and unsuspecting friend a kiss, and .lien 
 she was let out and departed. 
 
 " Carlo," said the soft voice of Gessiha ; " thou 
 <:i.an8t come forth, for we have no further fear of 
 /isits." 
 
 The Bravo appeared, but with a paleness deeper 
 <han common on his cheek. He looked mournfully 
 at the gentle and aflectionate being who awaited his 
 return, and when he struggled to answer her ingen 
 2B2 
 
394 THK BRAVO. 
 
 uous smile, the abortive effort gave his features an 
 expression of ghastliness. 
 
 " Annina has wearied thee with her idle discourse 
 of the regatta, and of murders on the canals. Thou 
 wilt not judge her harshly, for the manner in which 
 she spoke of Giuseppe, who may deserve this, and 
 more. But, I know thy impatience, and I will not 
 increase thy weariness." 
 
 " Hold, Gessina — this girl is thy cousin?" 
 
 " Have I not told thee so 1 our mothers are sis- 
 ters." 
 
 " And she is here often ?** 
 
 " Not as oftea as she could wish, I am certain, 
 for her aunt has not quitted her room for many, 
 many months." 
 
 " Thou art an excdlent dau^iter, kind Gessina, 
 and would make all others as virtuous as thyself. — 
 And thou hast been to return these visits?" 
 
 " Never. My father forbids it, for they are deal 
 ers in wines, and entertain the gondoliers in revelry. 
 But Annina is blameless for the trade of her pa 
 rents." 
 
 " No doubt — and that package? it hath been long 
 in thy keeping." 
 
 " A month ; Annina left it at her last visit, foi 
 she was hurried to cross to the Lido. But why 
 these questions ? You do not like my cousin, who 
 is giddy, and given to idle conversation, but who, I 
 think, must have a good heart. Thou heard'st the 
 manner in which she spoke of the wretched bravo, 
 Tacopo, and of this late murder?" 
 
 " I did." 
 
 " Thou could'st not have shown more horror at 
 the monster's crime thyself. Carlo. Nay, Annina is 
 thoughtless, and she might be less worldly; but she 
 hath, like all of us, a holy aversion to sin. Shall 1 
 lead thee to thfc cell?" 
 
 « Go on." 
 
THE BRAVO. 395 
 
 , " Thy honest nature revolts, Carlo, at the coJd 
 villany of the assassin. I have heard much of his 
 aiurders, and of the manner in which those up above 
 bear with him. They say, in common, that his art 
 surpasseth theirs, and that the officers wait for 
 proof, that they may not do injustice." 
 
 ^ Is the senate so tender, think you?" asked the 
 Bravo, huskily, but motioning for his companion to 
 proceed. 
 
 The girl looked sad, like one who felt the force 
 of this question ; and she turned away to open a 
 private door, whence she brought forth a little box. 
 
 " This is tlie key, CarW she said, showing him 
 one of a massive bunch, " and I am now the sole 
 warder. This much, at least, we have efibcted ; the 
 day may still come when we shall do more." 
 
 The Bravo endeavored to smile, as if he appre 
 ciated her kindness ; but he only succeeded in mak 
 ing her understand his desire to go on. The eye of 
 the gentle-hearted girl lost its gleam of hope in an 
 expression of sorrow, and she obeyed. 
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 
 , But lot ua to the raoG 
 
 And, when thou hast survey'd the sea, the hind, 
 Visit the narrow cells that cluster there. 
 As in a place of tombs. 
 
 St Marft Pbee. 
 
 We shall not attempt to thread the vaulted gal 
 leries, the gloomy corridors, and ail the apartments, 
 hrough which the keeper's daughter led her com- 
 panion. Those, who have ever entered an extensive 
 prison, will require no description to revive the feel 
 
296 THE BRAVd. 
 
 ing of pain which it excited, by barred windows, 
 creaking hinges, grating bolts, and all those other 
 signs, which are alike the means and evidence of 
 incarceration. The building, unhappily hke most 
 other edifices intended to repress the vices of socie 
 ty, was vast, strong, and intricate within, although, 
 as has been already intimated, of a chaste and sim,- 
 ple beauty externally, that might seem to have been 
 adopted in mockery of its destination. 
 
 Gelsomina entered a low, narrow, and glazed' gal- 
 lery, when she stopped. 
 
 " Thou souffhtest me, as wont, beneath the water- 
 gate, Carlo," she asked, " at the usual hour?" 
 
 " I should not have entered the prison had I found 
 thee there, for thou knowest I would be little seen 
 But I bethought me of thy mother, and crossed the 
 canal." 
 
 " Thou wast wrong. My mother rests much as she 
 has done, for many months — thou must have seen 
 that we are not taking the usual route to the cell ?" 
 
 " I have ; but as we are not accustomed to meet 
 in thy father's rooms, on this errand, I thought this 
 the necessary direction." 
 
 " Hast thou much knowledge of the palace and 
 the prison, Carlo?" 
 
 " More than I could wish, good Gelsomina ; — but 
 why am I thus questioned, at a ^ moment when 1 
 would be otherwise employed?" 
 
 The timid andconscious girl did not answer. Her 
 cheek was never bright, for like a flower reared in 
 the shade, it had the delicate hue of her secluded 
 life ; but at this question it became pale. Accustom- 
 ed to the ingenuous habits of the sensitive being at 
 his side, the Bravo studied her speaking features in- 
 teWly. He moved swiftly to a window, and looking 
 out, his eye fell upon a narrow and gloomy canal. 
 Crossing the gallery, he cast a glance beneath him, 
 and saw the same dark watery passage, leading be- 
 
THE BRAVO. 297 
 
 tween the masonry of two massive piles to the quay 
 tad the port. 
 
 "Gelaomina!" he cried, recoiling from the sight, 
 "this, is the Bridge of Sighs«!" 
 
 " It is. Carlo ; hast thou ever crossed it before ?" 
 
 " Never ; nor do I understand why I cross it now 
 I have long thought that it might one day be my for- 
 tune to walk this fatal passage, but I could not dream 
 of luch a keeper I" 
 
 The eye of Gelsomina brightened, and her smile 
 was cheerful.' 
 
 " Thou wilt never cross it, tolhy harm, with me." 
 
 " Of that I am certain, kind Gessina," he answer- 
 ed, taking her hand. " But this is a riddle that I 
 cannot explain. Art thou in the habit of entering 
 the palace by this gallery?" 
 
 " It is little used, except by the keepers and the 
 condemned, as doubtlejis thou hast oilen heard ; but 
 yet they have given me the keys, and tai^ht me the 
 windings of the place, in order that I might serve, 
 as usual, for thy guide." 
 
 " Gelsomina, I fear I have beep too happy in thy 
 company to note, as prudence would have told me, 
 the rare kindness of the council in permitting me to 
 enjoy it!" 
 
 " Dost thou repent. Carlo, that thou hast known 
 meV 
 
 Tlie reproachful melancholy of her voice touch- 
 ed the Bravo, who kissed the hand he held, with 
 Italian fervor. 
 
 "I should then repent me of tiie only^ours of 
 happiness I have known for years," he said. " Thou 
 hast been to me, Gelsomina, like a flower in a des- 
 ert — a pure spring to a feverish man — a gleam of 
 hope to one suffering under malediction. — No no ; 
 not for a moment have I repented knowing thee, niy 
 Gelsomina!" 
 
 " 'Twould not have made my life more happv, 
 
'298 IliK RRAVO. 
 
 Carlo, to hav3 thought I had added to thy sorroWSi 
 1 am voung, and ignorant of the world, but I kn^W 
 we should cause joy, and not pain, to those We 
 esteem." * ul ■• 
 
 " Thy nature would teach thee this gentle les^bn. 
 But, is it not strange that one, like me, should' 'be 
 suffered to visit the prison unattended by any other 
 keeper?" 
 
 " I had not thought it so, Carlo ; but, surely it is 
 not commqp !" 
 
 " We have found so much pleasure in each other, 
 dear Gessina, that we have overlooked what ought 
 to have caused alarm." 
 
 "Alarm, Carlo!" 
 
 " Or, at least, distrust ; for these wily senators do 
 no act of mercy without a motive. But it is now 
 too late to recall the past, if we would ; and in that 
 which relates to thee I would not lose the memory 
 of a moment. Let us proceed." 
 
 The slight cloud vanished from the face of the mUd 
 auditor of the Bravo ; but still she did not move. 
 
 " Few pass this bridge, they say," she added trem- 
 ulously, " and enter the world again ; and yet thou 
 dost not even ask why we are here, Carlo '" 
 
 There was a transient gleam of distrust in thei 
 hasty glance of the Bravo, as he shot a look at the 
 undisturbed eye of the innocent being v^ho put this 
 question. But it scarcely remained long enough to 
 change the expression of manly interest she was 
 accustomed to meet in his look. 
 
 " Sinc&thou wilt have me curious," he said, " why 
 hast thou come hither, and more than all, being here, 
 why dost thou linger?" 
 
 •• The season is advanced, Carlo," she answer^; 
 speaking scarcely above her breath, " and we should' 
 iQok In vain among the cells." 
 
 " I understand thee," he said ; " we will proceed;" 
 
 Gelsomina lingered \q gaze wistfully into the face 
 
THE BRAVO. 299 
 
 of her companion, but finding no visible sign of the 
 agony he endured, she went on. Jacopo spoke 
 hoarsely, but he was too long accustomed lo dis- 
 guise, to permit the weakness to escape, when he 
 knew how much it would pain the sensitive and 
 faithful being, who had yielded her affections to him, 
 with a singleness and devotion which arose neaily 
 as much from her manner of life, as from natural 
 .ingenuousness. 
 
 In order that the reader may be enabled to un- 
 4erstand the allusions, which seem to be so plain 
 to our lovers, it may be necessary to explain an- 
 other odious feature in the policy of the republic of 
 Venice. 
 
 Whatever may be the pretension of a state, in its 
 acknowledged theories, an unerring clue to its true 
 character is ever to be found in the machinery of 
 its jpractice. In those governments which are cre- 
 ated for the good of the people, force is applied with 
 caution and reluctance, since the protection and not 
 the injury of the weak is their object : whereas the 
 more selfish and exclusive the system becomes, the 
 more severe and ruthless are the coercive means 
 employed by those in power. Thus, in Venice, 
 whose whole political fabric reposed on the narrow 
 foundation of an oligarchy, the jealousy of the sen- 
 ate brought the engines of despotism in absolute 
 contact with even the pageantry of their titular 
 
 i)rince, and the palace of the doge himself was pol- 
 uted by the presence of the dungeons. The prince- 
 ly edifice had its summer and winter cells. The 
 reader may be ready to believe that mercy had dic- 
 tated some slight solace for the miserable, in this 
 arcai^ement. But this would be ascribing pity to 
 a body, which, to its latest moment, had no tie to 
 subject it to the weakness of humanity. So far 
 from consulting the sufferings of the captive, his 
 winter cell was below the level of the canals, while 
 
300 THE BRAVO. 
 
 his summers were to be past beneath the leads, ex 
 posed to the action of the burning sun of that cli- 
 mate. As the reader has probably anticipated, al- 
 ready, that Jacopo was in the prison on an errand 
 connected with some captive, this short explanation 
 will enable hiin to understand the secret allusion of 
 his companion. He they sought had, in truth, been 
 recently conveyed from the damp cells, where he had 
 
 Eassed the winter and spring, to the heated chambers 
 eneath the roof. 
 
 Gelsomina continued to lead the way, with a sad- 
 ness of eye and feature, that betrayed her strong sym- 
 pathy with the sufferings of her companion, but with- 
 out appearing to think further delay necessary. She 
 had communicated a circumstance, which weighed 
 heavily on her own mind, and, like most of her mild 
 temperament, who had dreaded such a duty, now 
 that it was discharged, she experienced a sensible 
 relief. They ascended many flights of steps, open- 
 ed and shut numberless doors, and threaded seve- 
 ral narrow corridors, in silence, before reaching 
 the place of destination. While Gelsomina sought 
 the key of the door, before which, they stopped, 
 in the large bunch she carried, the Bravo breathed 
 the hot air of the attic, like one who was suffo- 
 cating. 
 
 " They promised me that this should not be done 
 again!" he said. — ^"But they forget their pledges, 
 fiends, as they are !" 
 
 " Carlo !-^thou forgettest that this is the palace of 
 the doge !" whispered the girl, while she threw a 
 timid glance behind her. 
 
 " I forget nothing that is connected with the repub- 
 lic! — It is all here," striking his flushed brow — ^"whal 
 IS not there, is in my heart !" 
 
 " Poor Carlo ! this cannot last for ever — ^there wiH 
 be an end." 
 
 " Thou art right ;" answered the Bravo, hoarsely 
 
THE BRAVO. 801 
 
 1-f' The end is nearer, than thou tflinkest. — ^No mat- 
 ter ; turn the key, that we may go in.'" 
 
 The hand of Ge soinina lingered on the lock, but 
 admonished bv his impatient eye, she complied, and 
 they entered tlie cell. 
 
 " Father !" exclaimed the Bravo, hastening to the 
 side of a pallet, that lay on the floor. 
 
 The attenuated and feeble form of an old man rose 
 at the word, and an eye which, while it spoke mental 
 feebleness, was at that moment even brighter than 
 that of his son, glared on the faces of Gelsomina and 
 her companion. 
 
 " Thou hast not sufiered, as I had feared, by this 
 sudden change, father!" continued the latter, kneel> 
 ing by the side of the straw. — " Thine eye, and cheek, 
 and countenance are better, than in the damp caves 
 hebw 1" 
 
 " I am happy here," returned the prisoner ;— 
 " there is light, and though they have given me too 
 much of it, thou canst never know, my boy, the joy 
 of looking at the day, after so long a night." 
 
 " He IS bettei", Gelsomina 1 — They have not yet de- 
 stroyed him. See I — his eye is bright even, and his 
 cheek has aglow!" 
 
 " They are ever so, after passing the winter in the 
 lower dungeons ;" whispered the gentle girl. 
 
 " Hast thou news for me, boyi — What tidings from 
 thy mother?" 
 
 Jacopo bowed his head tP conceal the anguish oc- 
 casioned by this question, which he now heard for 
 the hundredth time. 
 
 " She is happy, father — happy as one can be, who 
 BO well loves thiee, when away from thy side." 
 
 " Does she speak of. me often ?" 
 
 " The last word that I heard from her lips, was 
 thy name." 
 
 " Holy JMaria, ble.ss her ! I trust she remembeis 
 me in her prayers ?" 
 
 2C 
 
302 THE BRAVU. 
 
 "Doubt it not, father, — they are the prayers of an 
 angel!" 
 
 "And thy patient sister? — ^ihou hast not named 
 her, son." 
 
 " She, too, is well, father." 
 
 " Has she ceased to blame herself for being the 
 innocent cause of my sufierings 1" 
 
 " She has." 
 
 " Then she pines no longer over a blow that can- 
 not be helped." 
 
 The Bravo seemed to search for relief in the sym 
 pathizing eye of the pale and speechless Gelsomina. 
 
 " She has ceased to pine, father ;" he uttered with 
 compelled calmness. 
 
 " Thou hast ever loved thy sister, boy, with man- 
 ly tenderness. Thy heart is kind, as I have reason 
 to know. If God has given me grief, he has blessed 
 me, in my children !" 
 
 A long pause followed, during which the parent 
 seemed to muse on the past, while the child rejoiced 
 in the suspension of questions which harrowed his 
 soul, since thosp of whom the other spoke had long 
 been the victims of family misfortune. The old 
 man, for the prisoner was aged, as well as feeble, 
 turned his look on the still kneeling Bravo, thought- 
 fully, and continued. 
 
 " There is little hope of thy sister marrying, for 
 none are fond of tying themselves to the pro- 
 scribed." 
 
 *' She wishes it not — she wishes it not — she is 
 happy, with my mother ! " 
 
 " It is a happiness the republic will not begrudge. 
 Is there no hope of our being able to meet soon?" 
 
 " Thou wilt meet my mother, — ^yes, that pleasure 
 will come at last!" 
 
 " It is a weary time since any of my blood, but 
 thee, have stood in my sight. Kneel, that T may 
 bless tliee." 
 
THE BRAVO 303 
 
 Jacopo, who had arisen under his mental tortmc, 
 obeyed, and bowed his head in reverence to receive 
 the paternal benediction. The lips of the old man 
 moved, and his eyes were turned to Heaven, but 
 his> language was of the heart, rather than that of 
 the tongue. Gelsomina bent her head to her bosom, 
 and seemed to unite her prayers to those of the 
 prisoner. When ihe silent but solemn ceremony 
 was ^ided, each made the customary sign of the 
 cross, and Jacopo kissed the wrinkled hand of the 
 captive. *>'.•.'. 
 
 "Hast thou hope for me?" the old man asked, 
 this pious and grateful duty done. " Do they still 
 promise to let me look upon the sun, again?" 
 
 " They do.^They pi-omise fair." 
 
 " Would that their words were true ! I have 
 lived on hope, for a weary time — I have now been 
 within these walls, more than four years, methinks." 
 
 Jacopo did not answer, for he knew that his 
 father named the period only that he himself had 
 been permitted to see him. 
 
 "I built upon the expectation, that the doge 
 would remember his ancient servant, and open my 
 prison-doors." 
 
 Still Jacopo was silent, for the doge, of whom 
 the other spoke, had long been dead. * 
 
 " And yet I should be grateful, for Maria and 
 the saints have not forgotten me. T am not without 
 my pleasures, in captivity." 
 
 " God be praised !" returned the Bravo. " In 
 what manner dost thou ease thy soitows, father?" 
 
 "Look hither, boy," exclaimed the old man 
 whose eye betrayed a mixture of feverish excite 
 ment, caused by the recent change in his prison, 
 and the growing imbecihty of a mind that was 
 gradually losing its powers for want of use ; " dost 
 thou see the rent in that bit of wood ? It opens with 
 (he heat, from time to time, and since I have been 
 
304 THE BRAVO. 
 
 an inhabitant here, that fissure has doubled in length 
 — I sometimes fancy, that when it reaches the knot, 
 the hearts of the senators will soften, and that my 
 doors will open. There is a satisfaction, in watch- 
 ing its increase, as it lengthens, inch by inch, yeai 
 after year!" 
 
 "Is this all r 
 
 "Nay, I have other pleasures. There was a 
 spider the past year, that wove his web from yon- 
 der beam, and he was a companion, too, that I 
 loved to see ; wilt thou look, boy, if there is hope 
 of his coming back ?" 
 
 " I see him not;" whispered the Bravo. 
 
 " Well, there is always the hope of its return. 
 The flies will enter soon, and then he will be looking 
 for his prey. They may shut me up on a false 
 charge, and keep me weary years from my wife 
 and daughter, but they cannot rob me of all my 
 happiness !" 
 
 The aged captive was mute and thoughtfuL A 
 childish impatience glowed in his eye, and he gazed 
 from the rent, the companion of so many solitary 
 summers, to the face of his sonj like one who began 
 to distrust his enjoyments. 
 
 " Well, let them take it away," he said, burying 
 his heSd beneath the covering of his bed ; " I will 
 not curse them !" 
 
 "Father!" 
 
 The prisoner made no reply. 
 
 « Father !" 
 
 "Jacopo!" 
 
 In his turn the Bravo was speechless. He did 
 not venture, even, to steal a ^ance towards the 
 breathless and attentive Gelsomina, though his bo- 
 som heaved with longing to examine her guileless 
 features. 
 
 " Dost thou hear me, son 1" continued the prison- 
 er, uncDsrering his head: "dost thou reaU\r think 
 
THE BRAVO 305 
 
 they will have the heart to chase the spider troin 
 my cell ?" 
 
 " They will leave thee this pleasure, father, for it 
 touches neither their power, nor their fame. So 
 long as the senate can keep its foot on the neck of 
 the people, and so long as it can keep the seemliness 
 of a: good name, it will not envy thee this." 
 
 " Blessed Maria, make me thankful I — I had my 
 fears, child ; for i^is not pleasant to lose any friena 
 in a cell!" 
 
 Jacopo then proceeded to soothe the mind of the 
 prisoner, and he gradually led his thoughts to other 
 subjects. He laid by the bed-side a few articles of 
 food, that he was allowed to bring with him, and 
 again holding out the h6p6 of eventual Uberation, 
 he proposed to take his leave. 
 -'"I jvill try to believe thee, son," said the old 
 man, who had good reason to distrust assurances 
 so often made. " I will do all I can to believe it. 
 Thou wilt tell thy mother, that I never cease to 
 think of her, and to pray for her ; and thou wilt 
 bless thy sister, in the name of her poor imprisoned 
 parent." 
 
 The Bravo bowed in acquiescence, glad of any 
 means to escape speech. At a sign from the old 
 man he again bent his knee, and received the part- 
 ing benediction. After busying himself in arrang- 
 ing the scanty furniture of the cell, and in trying to 
 open one or two small fissures, with a view to ad 
 mit more light and air, he quitted the place. 
 
 Neither Gelsomina nor Jacopo spoke, as they re- 
 turned by the intricate passages through which they 
 had ascended to the attic, until they were again on 
 the Bridge of Sighs. It was seldom that human 
 foot trod this gallery, and the former, with female 
 quickness, selected it as a place suited to their fui 
 ther conference. 
 
 3C2 
 
306 Tim BRAVO. 
 
 " Dost thou find him changed T" she asked, hi^^ 
 .ng on the arch. 
 
 " Much." 
 
 " Thou speakest with a firightful meaning!" 
 
 " I have not taught my countenance to lie to thee 
 Gelsomineu" 
 
 " But there is hope.- — Thau told'st him there was 
 hope, thyseli" 
 
 " Blessed Maria forgive the fraud ! I could not 
 rob the httle Ufe he has, of its only comfort" 
 
 "Carlo I — Carlo! — ^Why art thou so calm? I 
 have never heard thee speak so calmly of thy 
 father's wrongs and imprisonment." 
 
 " It is because his liberation is near." 
 
 " But this moment he was without hope, and thou 
 speakest, now, of liberation !" 
 
 " The Kberation of death. Even the anger of the 
 senate will respect the grave." 
 
 " Dost thou think his end near ? I had not seen 
 this change." 
 
 " Thou art kind, good Gelsomina, and true to thy 
 friends, and without suspicioB of those crimes of 
 which thou art so innocent; but to one, who has 
 seen as much evil as I, a jealous thought comes at 
 every new event. The sufferings of my poor father 
 are near their end, for nature is worn out ; but were 
 it not, I can foresee that means would be found to 
 I bring them to a close." 
 
 " Thou canst not suspect that any here would do 
 him harm !" 
 
 " I suspect none that belong to thee. Both thy 
 father and thyself, Gelsomina, are placed here by 
 the interposition of the saints, that the fiends should 
 not have too much power on earth." 
 
 " I do not understand thee. Carlo — ^but thou art 
 olten so. — Thy father used a word to-day that I 
 could wish he had not, in speaking to thee." 
 
 The eye of the Bravo threw a quick, uneasy, sus- 
 
THE BRAVO. SIH 
 
 picious ^ance at his con^>anioD, and then averted 
 its look with haste. 
 
 " He called thee, Jacopo !" continued the girl. 
 
 " Men often have ^ISmpaes of their fate, by the 
 kindness of their patrons." 
 
 ■" Would'st thou say. Carlo, that thy father sus- 
 pects the senate will employ the monster he named ?" 
 
 " Why not ? — ^they have employed worse men. If 
 report says true, he is not anloiown to them." 
 
 " Can this be ^o ! — Thou art bitter against the re- 
 public, because it has done injury to thy family ; but 
 thou canst not believe it has ever dealt with the 
 hired stiletto." 
 
 " I said no more than is whispered daily on the 
 canals." 
 
 " I would thy father had not called thee by this 
 terrible name. Carlo ! " 
 
 " Thou art too wise to be moved by a word, Gel- 
 somina. But what thinkest thou of my /unhappy 
 father?" 
 
 " This visit has not been like the others thou hast 
 made him in my company. I know not the reason, 
 but to me thou hast ever seemed to feel the hope 
 with which thou hast cheered the prisoner ; while 
 BOW, thou seemest to have even a frightful pleasure 
 in despair." 
 
 " Thy fears deceive thee;" returned the Bravo, 
 scarce speaking above his breath. " Thy feais de- 
 ceive thee, and we will say no more. The senate 
 mean to do us justice, at last. They are honorable 
 Signori, of illustrious birth, and renowned names ! — 
 'T would be madness to distrust the patricians \ Dost 
 thou not know, girl, that he who is born of gentle 
 blood is above the weaknesses ana temptations that 
 beset us of -base origin? They are men placed by 
 birth above the weaknesses oi' mortals, and owing 
 their account to none, they will be sure to do justice. 
 This is reasonably, and who can doubt it I" 
 20 
 
308 THE BRAfO 
 
 ■ As he ended, the Bravo laughed bitterly. 
 
 "Nay, now thou triflest with me. Carlo; none 
 are above the danger of doing wrong, but those 
 whom the saints and kind Maria favor." 
 
 " This- comes of living in a prison, and of saying 
 thy prayers night and morning ! No — no-^-silly girl, 
 there are men in the world born wise, from genera- 
 tion to generation ; born honest, virtuous, brave, in- 
 corruptible, and fit in all things to shut up and im- 
 prison those who are born base and ignoble. Where 
 hast thou passed thy days, foolish Gelsomina, not to 
 have felt this truth, in the very air thou breathest'? 
 'Tis clear as the sun's light, and palpable— ^ay— pal- 
 pable as these prison walls ! " 
 
 The timid girl recoiled from his side, and there 
 was a moment yfheti she meditated flight ; for never 
 before, during their numberless and confidential in- 
 terviews, had she ever heard so bitter a laugh, or 
 seen so'wild a gleam in the^eye of her companion. 
 
 " I could almost fancy. Carlo, that thy father was 
 i"ight in using the name he did ;" she said, as recov- 
 ering herself, she turned a reproachful look on his 
 still excited features. 
 
 " It is the business of parents to name their chil- 
 dren ; — but, enough. I must leave thee, "good Gel- 
 somina, and I leave thee with a heavy heart." 
 
 The unsuspecting Gelsomina forgot' her alarm. 
 She knew not why, butj though the imaginary Carlo 
 seldom quitted her that she was not sad, she felt a 
 Weight heavier than common on her spirits at this 
 declaration. ■ 
 
 - Thou hast thy affairs, and they must not be for- 
 gotten. Art fortunate with the gondola, of late, 
 Carlo?" 
 
 " Gold and I are nearly strangers. The republic 
 throws the whole charge of the venerable prisoner 
 on my toil." 
 
 " J have little, as thou knowest. Carlo," said Gel- 
 
TIIE BRAVO. 309 
 
 Eomina in a Half-audible voice; "but it is thinc- 
 My father is not rich, as thou canst feel, or he would 
 not live on the sufferings of others, by holding the 
 keys of the prison." 
 
 " He is better employed than those who set the 
 duty. Were the choice given me, girl, to' wear the 
 liorned bonnet, to feast in their halls, to rest in their 
 palaces, to be the gayest bauble in such a pageant 
 as that of yesterday, to plot in their secret councils, 
 and to be the heartless judge to condemn my fellows 
 to this misery — or to be merely the keeper of the 
 key9 and turner of the bolts — I should seize on the 
 latter office, as not only the most innocent, but by 
 far the most honorable!" 
 
 , " Thou dost not judge as the world judges. Carlo. 
 I had feared thou might'st feel shame at being the 
 husband of a jailer's daughter ; nay, I will not hide 
 the secret longer, since thou speakest so calmly, J 
 have wept that it should be so." 
 
 " Then thou hast neither understood the world 
 nor me. Were thy father of the senate, or of the 
 Council of Three, could the grievous fact be known, 
 thou would'st have cause to sorrow. But Gelso- 
 mina, the canals are getting dusky, and I must 
 leave thee." 
 
 The reluctant girl saw the truth of what he said, 
 and applying a key, she opened the door of the cov- 
 ered bridge. A few turnings and a short descent 
 brought lEe Bravo and his companion to the level 
 of the quajrs Here the former took a hurried leave 
 and quitted the prison. 
 
319 Tm: ntAva 
 
 CHAPTER XXL 
 
 But they who blunder ttnia are raw beginners. 
 
 DtoL Juan 
 
 The heur had come for the revds of the Hazzft, 
 and for ^e movemeirt of the gondolas. Maskers 
 glided along the porticoes as usual ; the song and cry 
 were heard- anew, and Yraiice Mras again absorbed 
 in delusive gaiety. 
 
 When Jacopo issued from the prison on the quay, 
 he minted with the stream of httnian ferangs that 
 was setting towards the squares, protected from ob- 
 servation by the privileged mask. While clKJSsing 
 the lower bridge of the canal of St. Mark, he linger^ 
 ed an instant, to throw a look at the glazed gallery 
 he had just quitted, and then moved forward with 
 the crowd — the image of the artless and confiding 
 Grelsomina uppermost in his Aow^ts. As he passed 
 slowly along the gfeonfty arches of l9ie Broglio, Ms 
 eye sought the person of Don Gamillo Monforte. 
 They met at the angle of the little square, and ex- 
 changing secret sigas, the Bravo moved on un- 
 noticed. 
 
 Hundreds of boats lay at the foot of the Piazzetta. 
 Among these Jacopo sought his own gondola, wnich 
 he extricated from the floating mass, and urged into 
 the stream. A few sweeps of the oar, and he lay 
 at the side of La Bella Sorrentina. The psuiroDe 
 paced the deck, enjoying the cool' of the evening, 
 with Italian indolence, while his people sang, or 
 rather chanted, a song of those seas, grouped on 
 the forecastle. The greetings were blunt and brief, 
 as is usual among men of that class. But the pad- 
 rone appeared to expect the visit, for he led his 
 guest far from the ears of his crew, to the other ex- 
 tremity of the felucca. 
 
THE BRAVO. 811 
 
 •* Hast thou aught in particular, good Roderieol" 
 demanded the mariner, who knew the Bravo oy a 
 sign, and ^ who ordy knew him by that fictitious 
 name. " Thou seest we have nut passed the time 
 idly, though yesterday was a festa." 
 
 " Art thou ready for the gulf J" 
 
 "For the Levant, or the pillars of Hercuhes, as 
 shall please the senate. We have got our yard aloft 
 since the sun went behind the mountains, and though 
 we may seem cardesaf'of delay, an hour'^s^ notice wiD 
 fit us for the outside of the Lido." 
 
 •* Then take the notice." 
 
 "Master Roderigo, you brii^ your news to an 
 overstocked market. I have already been informed 
 that we shall be wanted to-nigkt." 
 
 The quick movement of suspiocn made by the 
 Bravo escaped the observation of the padrone, whose 
 eye was running over the felucca's gear, with a sail- 
 or's habitual attention to that paart of his vessel, when 
 diere was question of its service. ^ 
 
 " Thou art right, Ste&ao. But there is little harm 
 in repeated caution. PreparaticHi is the first duty ia 
 a delicate commission." 
 
 "Will you look for yourself, Signbr Roderigo?" 
 said the mariner, in a lower tone. " La Bella Sor- 
 rentiua is not the Bucentaur, nor a galley of the 
 Grand Master of Malta; but, ibr her size, better 
 rooms are not to be had in the palace of the doge. 
 When they told me there was a lady in the freight, 
 the honor of Ce^bria was stirred in her behalf." 
 
 " 'Tis welK if they have named to thee all the 
 particulars, thou wilt not fail to do thyself ccedit." 
 
 " I do not say that they have shown me half of 
 them, good Signore;" interrupted Stefero. "The 
 secrecy of your Venetian shipmeets is my greatest 
 objection to the trade. It has more than once hap- 
 pened to me, that I have lain weeks in the canals, 
 irith my liold as clean as a friar^ conscience, when 
 
Sl4 THE BRAVO. 
 
 orders have come to weigh, witfi some such cargo 
 as a messenger, who has got into his berth as we 
 cleared the port,' to gfet out of it on the coast of Dal- 
 matia, or among the Greek islands." 
 
 " In such cases thou hast earned thy money ea. 
 sily." 
 
 " Diamine ! Master Roderigo, if I had a friend 
 in Venice to give timely advice, the felucca might 
 be ballasted with articles that would bring a profit, 
 on the other shore. Of what concern is it to the 
 senate, when I do my duty to the nobles faithfully, 
 that I do my duty at the same time to the good wo- 
 man and her little brown children, left at home, in 
 Calabria?" 
 
 " There is much reason in what thou sayest, Ste- 
 faho ; but thoii knowest the republic is a hard mas- 
 ter. An affair of this nature must be touched with 
 a gentle hand." 
 
 , " None know it better than I, for when they sent 
 the trader with all his movables out of the city, I 
 was obliged to throw certs^in casks into the sea, to 
 make room for his worthless stuffs. The senate 
 owes me just compensation for that loss, worthy Sg- 
 nor Roderigo ! " . 
 
 " Which thoti would'st be glad to repair, to-night ?'■ 
 
 " Santissima Maria ! You may be the doge him- 
 self, Signore, for any thing I know of yolir coun- 
 tenance ; but I could swear at the altar you ought 
 to be of the senate for your sagacity ! — If this lady 
 will not be burthehed with many effects, and there 
 is yet time, I might humor the tastes of the Dalma- 
 tians with certain of the articles that come from the 
 countries beyond the pillars of Hercules!" 
 
 "Thou art the judge of the probability thyself, 
 since they told thee of the nature of thy errand." 
 
 " San Gennaro of INapoli, open my eyes ! — Thev 
 said not a word beyond this little fact, that a yoiitli- 
 ful lady, in whom the senate had great interest, would 
 
THE BRAVO. 313 
 
 q^uit the city this uight for the eastern coast. If it 
 IS at all agreeable to your conscience, Master Rode- 
 rigo, I should be happy to hear who are to be her 
 companions?" 
 
 " Of that thou shalt hear more in proper season. 
 In the meantime, I would recommend to thee a cau- 
 tious tongue, for St. Mark makes no idle jokes with 
 those who offend him. I am glad to see thee in this 
 state of preparation, worthy padrone, and wishing 
 thee a happy nighty and a prosperous voyage, I 
 commit thee to thy patron. , But hold — ere I quit 
 thee, I would know the hour that the land-breeze 
 will serve?" 
 
 " You are exact as a compass in your own mat- 
 ters, Signore, but of little charity to thy friends! 
 With the burning sun of to-day we should have the 
 air of the Alps, about the turn of the night." 
 
 " 'TisAvell. — My eye shall be on thee. Once more, 
 addio." 
 
 "Cospetto! and thou hast said nothing of the 
 cargo?" 
 
 "'Twill not be so weighty in bulk as in value," 
 carelessly answered Jacopo, shoving his gondola 
 from the side of the felucca. The fall of his oar into 
 the water succeeded, and as Stefano stood, meditat 
 ing the chances of his speculation on his deck, the 
 boat glided away towards the quay, with a swift but 
 easy movement. 
 
 Deceit, like the windings of that subtle animal the 
 fox, often crosses its own path. It consequently 
 throws out those by whom it is practised, as well 
 as those who are meant to be its victims. When 
 Jacopo parted from Don Camillo, it was with an un- 
 derstanding that he should adopt all the means that 
 nis native sagacity, or his experience might suggest, 
 to ascertain in what manner the council intended to 
 dispose of the person of Donna Violetta. They had 
 separated on the Lido, and as none knew of their 
 2D 
 
314 THE BRAVO. 
 
 interview but him, and none would probably suspeict 
 their recent alliance, the Bravo entered on his new 
 duty with some chances of success, that might othfer- 
 wise have been lost. A change of its agtents, in af 
 fairs of peculiar delicacy, was one of the ordinary 
 means taken by tJie republic to avoid investigation 
 Jacopo had often been its instrument in negotiating 
 with the marineiv who, as has been so plainly inti 
 mated, had freqiaently been engaged in cari^yirig into 
 efSect its secret, and perhaps justifiable measures of 
 police; but in no instance had it evet been found 
 necessary to interpose a second agent between the 
 commencement and the consummation of its bar 
 gains, except in this. He had been ordered to see 
 the padrone, and to keep him in preparation for im- 
 mediate service ; but since the examination of An- 
 tonio before the council, his employers had neglected 
 to give him any farther instructions. The danger 
 of leaving the bride within reach of the agents of 
 Don Camillo was so obvious, that this unusual cau- 
 tion had been considered necessary. It was under 
 this disadvantage, thei'efore, that Jacopo entered on 
 the discharge of his new arid important duties. 
 
 That cunning, as has just been observed, is apt to 
 overreach itseli^ has passed into a proverb ; and the 
 case of Jacopo and his employers was one in point 
 to prove its truth. The unusual silence of those who 
 ordinarily sought him on similar-occasions, had not 
 been lost on the agent ; and the sight of the felucca, 
 as he strayed along the quays, gave an accidental 
 direction to his inquiries. The manner in which 
 they were aided, by the cupidity of the Calabrian, 
 has just been related. 
 
 Jacopo had no sooner touched the quay and se- 
 cured his boat, than he hastened again to the Bro- 
 gliq. It was now filled by maskers and the idlers 
 of the Piazzetta. The patricians had withdrawn to 
 (he scenes of their own pleasures, or, in furtherance 
 
«*f that system of mysterious sway whfeh it was 
 thdr policy to niaintain, they did not choose to re- 
 main exposed to the common «iye, Aitt'mg the howr» 
 of license which were about to follow. 
 
 It would seem that Jacopo had hfe instructions, 
 fof rto sooner did he make Sure that Don Camtllo 
 had fetired, th^rt hfe threaded the IShtdng with the 
 air of a man Whose course Was decided. By this 
 time, both the sqiiSiri^ were ftiJl, and at least half of 
 those V?ho spent the night in those plaices of amusej 
 ment, were masked. The ste^ of the Bravo, thdUgh 
 so unhesitating. Was leisurely, tod he fouAd time, in 
 passing Up the Piftiiizetta, to 6xAmirte the forms, HM, 
 when circumstances permftted, the features of «E 
 be met He proceeded, in this tnttttner, t6 the p&itH 
 of junction between the two squares, when hid elbow 
 was touched by a light hand. 
 
 SsiC^o Was hot accustomed, lihnecesSafiJy, to 
 trust his voitie in the square of St. Mark, and at that 
 hour. But his Idbk of inquiry was returned by a sign 
 to fbllbW. He had been stopped by one, whose 
 figure ^as So completely concealed by a dominO, 
 as to ba"ffie all conjecture concerning his true Char 
 acter. Perceiving, hdWever, that the other wished 
 to lead him to a part of the square that was vacant, 
 and which was directly on the course he was about 
 to pOrsue, the BraVo made a gesture of compliance 
 and followed. No sooner were the two apart from 
 the pressure of the crowd, and in t place where no 
 eaves-dropper could overhear their discoutse with- 
 out detection, than the stranger stopped. He ap^ 
 peared to examine the person, stature, and dress of 
 Jacop6, from beneath his mask, with singular cau- 
 tion, closing the Whole with a sign that meant re- 
 cognition. Jacopd returned his dumb show, but 
 mainta^d a rigid silence. 
 
 " Just Daniel !" muttered the stranger, wl^iett ha 
 found that his companion was not disposed to speak - 
 
316 THE BRAVO. 
 
 " one would think, illustrious Signore, that your 
 confessor had innposed a penance of silence, by the 
 manner in which you refuse to speak to your ser- 
 vant." 
 
 « What would'st thou?" 
 
 " Here am I, sent into the piazza, among knights 
 of industry, valets, gondoliers^ and all other manner 
 of revellers that adorn this Christian land, in search 
 of the heir of one of the most ancient and honorable 
 houses of Venice." 
 
 " How knowest thou I am he thou meekest?" 
 
 " Signore, there are many signs seen by a wise 
 man, that escape the unobservant. When young 
 cavaliers have a taste for mingling with the people 
 in honorable disguise, as in the case of a certain 
 patrician of this republic, they are to be known by 
 their air, if not by their voices." 
 
 " Thou art a cunning agent, Hosea ; but the 
 shrewdness of thy race is its livelihood !" 
 
 " It is its sole defence against the wrongs of the 
 oppressor, young noble. We are hunted like wolves, 
 and it is not surprising that we sometimes show the 
 ferocity of the beasts you take us for. But why 
 should I tell the wrongs of my people to one who 
 believes. life is a masquerade !" 
 
 " And who would not be sorry, ingenious Hosea, 
 were it composed only of Hebrews ! But, thy er- 
 rand ; I have no gage unredeemed, nor do I laiow 
 that I owe thee gold." 
 
 " Righteous Samuel ! you cavaliers of the senate 
 are not always mindful of the past, Signore, or 
 these are words that n^ight have been spared. If 
 your excellency is inclined to forget pledges, the 
 fault is not of my seeking ; but as for the account 
 that has been sc long growing between us, there is 
 not a dealer on the Rialto that will dispute the 
 proofs." 
 
THE BRAVO. 317 
 
 " Well, be it so — would'st thou dun my father's 
 son in the face of the revellers in St. Mark?" 
 
 " ] would do no discredit to any come of that 
 •Uustrious race, Signore, and therefore we will say 
 no more of the matter ; always relying that, at the 
 
 E roper moment, you will not question your own 
 and and seal." 
 
 " I like thy prudence, Hebrew. It is a pledge 
 thou comest on some errand less ungracious than 
 common. As I am pressed for time, 'twill be a favor 
 wert thou to name it." 
 
 Hosea examined, in a covert but very thorough 
 manner, the vacant spot around them, and drawing 
 nearer to the supposed noble, he continued. 
 
 " Signore, your family is in danger of meeting 
 with a great loss ! It is known to you that the senate 
 has altogether and suddenly removed Donna Vio- 
 letta, from the keeping of the faithful and illustrious 
 senator your father." 
 
 Though Jacopo started slightly, the movement 
 was so natural for a disappointed lover, that it rather 
 aided than endangered his disguise. 
 
 " Compose yourself, young Signore," continued 
 Hosea ; " these disappointments attend us all in 
 youth, as I know by severe trials. Leah was not 
 gained without trouble, and next to success in bar- 
 ter, success in love is perhaps the most uncertain. 
 Gold is a great make- weight in both, and it com- 
 monly prevails. But, you are nearer to losing the 
 lady of your love and her possessions, than you may 
 imagine, for I am sent expressly to say, that she is 
 about to be removed from the city." 
 
 " Whither?" demanded Jacopo, so quickly as to 
 do credit to his assumed character. 
 
 " That is the point to learn, Signore. Thj father 
 
 is a sagacious .senator, and is deep, at titnes,' in the 
 
 gocrets of the state. But, judging from his uncnr- 
 
 hunty on this occasion, I take it he is guided more 
 
 2D2 
 
318 THE BRAVO, 
 
 by hi? c|E^lci4a:^on9, than by any assurance p/ Ka 
 own knowledge. Just Daniel ! I have seen the mo- 
 inents when I li^^ve suspected that the venerable 
 patricijan himsejf V^as ^ inember of the Council of 
 Three!" 
 
 " Hi? house is ancient §,n,d his privileges well es 
 tablished — why should he not?" 
 
 " I say na,ijight ^g^jnst it, gig^pre. It i^ a wise 
 body, thgjt 4oetb JftHch good, and preventeth muc^ 
 harm. PIppe speak evil pf the secret councils on 
 the Rialto, where men are more given to gainful in- 
 dustry than to wjjd 4i,scu.ssjpi)? of their rulers' acts. 
 But, Signore, be he of thi? or that council, PF piere- 
 ly of the senate, a heedful hint ha? falleji ffpm his 
 lips, of the danger we ^re in pf losing " 
 
 " We !^^Ha?f; thpu thoughts of Dpnna Violetta, 
 Hosea?" ^ 
 
 " L^ab, ?ip4 th^ hw forbid ! — If the comely qupen 
 of Sheba, herself, were to tempt ji^e, and a frail na- 
 ture showed sign^ pf weakness, I dpubt that our 
 rabbis would find reasons for teaching sejf-denjal ! 
 Besides, the daughtftr of Lgvj js pp favorer of po- 
 lygf^my, nor any other pf our sex's privileges, I 
 spoJjLg in pluralities, Signpre, because the Rialto bias 
 some stake in this marriage, as Ayel} as the house of 
 Gradenigp." 
 
 " I miderst3,nd thee, Thou bftst fears for thy 
 gold'?" '■ " ■ ' , 
 
 " Had I been easily alarmpd, Signor (Jiacpinp, in 
 that particular, I might not hav^ parted witii t so 
 rea,dily, But, though the ?,ucpgssiop of thy illustri- 
 ous father will be 8in>ple tp nipet any loan >vithin 
 my hurnblq mean§, thftt of the fete Signor Ti^opolo 
 will not weaken the security," 
 
 ^'I ^4mit thy sagacity, and feel the imppFtance 
 jf thy warning, ^ut it seems to have no othejf 
 object or warranty, than thy own fears." 
 
•me BRAVO. 319 
 
 " With certain obscuire biuts from your honored 
 'uther, Signore." 
 
 " Did he say more to the point?" 
 
 " He spoke in parables, young noble, but having 
 an oriental ear, his words were not uttered to the 
 wind. That the rich damsel is about to be convey- 
 ed from Venice am I certain, and for the benefit of 
 the little stake I have myself in her movements, I 
 >Vould give the bes^^ turquoise in my shop to know 
 whither." 
 
 "Canst thou say with certainty, 'twill be this 
 night." 
 
 " Qiving no pledge for redemption in the event 
 of mistake, I am so sure, young cavalier, as to 
 have many unquiet thoughts." 
 
 " Enough — I wip look to my own interests, and 
 to thine." 
 
 Jacopo waved his hand in adieu, and pursued his 
 walk up the piazza. 
 
 " Had I looked more sharply to the latter, as be- 
 came one accustomed to deal with the accursed 
 race," muttered the Hebrew, " it would be a matter 
 of no concern to me if the girl .married a Turk!" 
 
 " Hosea," said a mask at his ear ; " a word with 
 thee, in secret." 
 
 The jeweller started, and found that, in his zeal, 
 he had suffered one to approach within sound of his 
 voice unseen. The other was in a domino also, and 
 so well enveloped sls to be effectually concealed. 
 
 " lyiiat would'st thou, Signor Mask?" demanded 
 the wary Jew. 
 
 " A word in friendship and in confidence,— ThoL 
 hast moneys to lend at usury?" 
 
 " The question had better be put to the republic's 
 treasury ! I have many stones, valued miich below 
 their weight, and would be glad to put them, with 
 jiome one more lucky than myself; wuo vvill be able 
 do keep them." 
 
320 THE BRAVO. 
 
 « Nay, this will not "suffice — thou art known to be 
 abounding in sequins ; one of thy race and riches 
 will never refuse a sure loan, with securities as 
 certain as the laws of Venice. A thousand ducats 
 in thy willing hand is no novelty." 
 
 " They who call me rich, Signor Mask, are pleas- 
 ed to joke with the unhappy child of a luckless 
 race. That I might have been above want — nay, 
 that I am not downright needy, maybe true; but 
 when they speak of a thousand ducats, they speak 
 of affairs too weighty for my burthened shoulders 
 Were it your pleasure to purchase an amethyst, or 
 a ruby, gallant Signore, there might possibly be 
 dealings between us?" 
 
 " I have need of gold, old man, and can spare 
 thee jewels myself, at need. My wants are urgent, 
 at this moment, and I have little time to lose in 
 words-^name thy conditions." " 
 
 " One should have good securities, Signore, to be 
 so peremptory in a matter of money." 
 
 " Thou hast heard that the laws of Venice are 
 not more certain. A thousand sequins, and that 
 quickly. Thou shalt settle the usury with thine own 
 conscience." 
 
 Hosea thought that this was giving ample room 
 to the treaty, and he began to listen more seriously 
 
 " Signore," he said, " a thousand ducats are not 
 picked up at pleasure, from the pavement of the 
 great square. He who would lend them, must first 
 earn them with long and patient toil ; and he who 
 would borrow " 
 
 " Waits at thy elbow." 
 
 "Should have a name and countenance well 
 known on the Rialto." 
 
 "Thou lendest on sufficient pledges to masks, 
 careful Hosea, or fame belies thy generosity." 
 
 « A sufficient pledge gives me power to see the 
 way clearly though the borrower should be a? 
 
THE BRAVO. 32J 
 
 Diuch hidden as those up above. But here is none 
 forthconning. Come to me to-morrow, masked oi 
 not, as may suit your own pleasure, for I have no 
 impertinent desire to pry into any man's secrets, 
 beyond what a regar(} to my own interests requires, 
 and I will look into my coffers ; though those of no 
 heir-apparent ip Venice can be emptier." 
 
 " Mv ngce^jties ^re top urgent to brook delay. 
 Hast thou (he gold, on cppdiJjpn of naming thine 
 own usury t" 
 
 "With sufficient pledge? \n stones of price, I 
 plight rake tpgether the suro, anjong our dispersed 
 
 Eeople, Signore. But he who goes on the island to 
 orrow, as I shall be obliged to do, should be able 
 tp s^Jisiy all dpubts cpncerning the payment." 
 
 " The gold can then be had— Pn that point I may 
 bp easy?" 
 
 Hosea hesitated, for he had in ^ain endeavored 
 to penetrate the other's disguise, and while he 
 Ihpught his assurance a fayorable omen, with a 
 lender's instinct he disUked his impatiepce. 
 
 " I have said, by the friendly aid of our people ;' 
 Jxe answered, with caution. 
 
 " This uncertainty will not answer my need. Ad 
 tlio, Hqsea, — I piust seek plsewhere," 
 
 " Signore, you could not be more hurried were 
 the money to pay the cost of your nuptials. Could 
 I find Isaac and Aaron within, at this late hour, I 
 think I plight be safe in saying, that part of the 
 inpney might be had." 
 
 " I cannot trust to this chance." 
 
 * Nay, Signore, the chance is but small, since 
 Aaron is bed-ridden, and Isaac never fails to look 
 into his affairs, after the toil of the day is ended. 
 The honest Hebrew finds sufficient recreation in the 
 employment, though I marvel at his satisfaction, 
 since nothing but losses have comP over our people 
 the year pa?' !"' 
 
R22 THE BRAVO. 
 
 " I tell thee, Jew, no doubt must hang over the 
 negotiation. The money, with pledges, and thine 
 rwn conscience for arbiter between us ; but no equiv- 
 ocal dealings, to be followed by a disappointment, 
 under the pretence that second parties are not 
 satisfied." 
 
 "Just Daniel! to oblige you, Signore, I think J 
 may venture ! — The well-known Hebrew, Levi of 
 Livorno, has lefl with me a sack, containing the very 
 sum of whch there is question, and, under the con- 
 ditions named, I will convert it to my uses, and re- 
 pay the good jeweller his gold, with moneys of my 
 own, at a later day." 
 
 " I thank thee for the fact, Hosea ;" said the other 
 partially removing his mask, but as instantly replac- 
 ing it. " It will greatly shorten our negotiations. 
 Thou hast not l^at sack of the Jew of Livorno be- 
 neath thy domino ?" 
 
 Hosea was speechless. The removal ef the mask 
 had taught him two material facts. He had been 
 communicating his distrust of the Senate's inten- 
 tions, concerning Donna Violetta, to an unknown 
 person, and, possibly, to an agent of the. police ; and 
 he had just deprived himself of the only argument 
 he had ever found available, in refusing the attempts 
 of Giacomo Gradenigo to borrow, by admitting to 
 that very individual, that he had in his power the 
 precise sum required. 
 
 " I trust the face of an old customer is not likely 
 to defeat our bargain, Hosea T" demanded the prbfli- 
 gate heir of the senator, scarce concealing the irony 
 in which the question was put. 
 
 " Father Abraham ! Had I known it had been 
 you, Signor Giacomo, we might have greatly short 
 ened thp treaty," 
 
 " By denfix\a that thou hadsl the money, as thoo 
 (last so pft^n qone of )^tp I" 
 
THE BRAVO. 3>23 
 
 Nay, nay, I am not a swallower of my own 
 words, j^oung Signore; but my. duty to Levi must 
 not be Ibrgotten. The careful Hebrew made me 
 take a vow, by the name of our tribe, that 1 would 
 not part with his gold, to -any that had not the means 
 of placing its return beyond all chances." 
 
 " This assurance is not wanting, since thou art the 
 borrower, thyself, to,lend to,me." 
 
 " Signore, you place my conscience in an awk- 
 ward position. You are now my debtor some six- 
 thpusand sequins, and were I to make this loan of 
 money in trust, and were you to return it — two pro- 
 positions I make on supposition — a natural lovo for 
 my own might cause me to pass the payment to 
 account, whereby I should put the assets of Levi in 
 jeopardy." 
 
 " fettle that as thou wilt with thy conscience. Ro- 
 sea — thou hast confessed to the money, and here are 
 jewels for the pledge — I ask only the sequins." 
 
 It is probable that the appeal of Giacomo Grade- 
 nigo would not have produced much effect on the 
 flinty nature of the Hebrew, who had all the failings 
 of a man proscribed by opinion ; but having recov- 
 ered from his surprise, he began to explain to his 
 companion his apprehensions on account of Donna 
 Violetta, whose marriage, it will be remembered, 
 was a secret to all but the witnesses and the Council 
 of Three, when to his great joy he found that the 
 gold vyas wanting to advance his own design of re- 
 moving her to some secret place. This immediately 
 changed the whole face of the bargain. As the 
 pledges offered were really worth the sum to be re- 
 ceived, Hosea thought, taking the chances of recov- 
 ering back his ancient loans, from the foreign es- 
 tates of the heiress, into the account, the loan would 
 be no bad investment of the pretended sequins of his 
 f'-iend Levi. 
 
 21 
 
334 THE BRAVO. 
 
 As soon as the parties ha4 cpme to a clear under- 
 standing, they left the sqijare together, to consum- 
 mate their bE^rg?lin. 
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 "We'll fijllow Cade, we'll foUow Cade." 
 
 HmryVL 
 
 Tbs nigfjt wore on. The strains of musio again 
 heg^.1^ to lireeik through tl^e ordinary stillness of the 
 town, and the bo^^ts of tlie great were once more 
 in motion on every canal. Hands waved timidly 
 in recognition, from the windows jpf the little dark 
 canopies, as the gondola^ glided by, but few paused 
 to greet pacli otl^er ii| ths-t city of jpystery and sus- 
 picion. Even the refresbing ajr of the evening was 
 inhaled under an appearance of restraint, which, 
 though it (night not be at tbe monient felt, was too 
 much iptprwoven wjth the habits of the people, ever 
 to be entirely thrpwn aside. 
 
 Among the fighter and gayer bfirges of the pa- 
 trici^iis, a gondol^t of more thq.p^ustial size, bijt of 
 an exterior sq plain aef to denote vjolgar uses, came 
 sweeping down the gre^t canal. It? movement was 
 leisurely, and the action pf the gondoliers that of 
 men eithef fatigued oy little pressed for time. He 
 who steered, guided the boat witji eQnsHrnm.ate skill, 
 but witb a single hfind, while his three fellows, froni 
 time to time, suffered their oars to trail on the wa- 
 ter in very idleness. In short, jt jiad the ordinary 
 listless appearance of a |joat returning to the city, 
 from an excursion ,on the Brent^, pr to some of thiB 
 more distant isles. 
 
 Suddenly, the gondola diverged from the centre 
 
rm BRAVO- 35?6 
 
 of thp passage, down which it ^^thff floated th?ip 
 pulled, and snot into one of the least frequented ca^ 
 nals of the city. From this moment its movement 
 became njore rapid and regular, unti' it reached a 
 quarter of the town inhabited by the lowest ofder 
 of the Venetians. Here it stoppe(} by the side of ^ 
 yrai'ehouse, and one of its crew fiscendp'! to a bridge. 
 The others threw themselves on the uiwarts and 
 seemed to repose. 
 
 Hp who quitted tHe boat threade4 a few narrow 
 but public allies, such as are lo be found in every 
 part of that confined town, and knocked lightly 
 at a window. It was not long before the csisement 
 opened, and a female vpice demanded the qainne of 
 bim without. 
 
 " It is I, Annina ;" returned Gino, who was not an 
 unfrequ^nt applicant for admission, at that private 
 portal. " Open the door, girl, for I have copie on 4 
 mafter of pressing haste." 
 
 Annina CQrpplied, though not without making sure 
 that her suitor was alone. 
 
 " Thou art cotnc unseasonably, Gino," said the 
 wine-seller's daughter ; " I was about to go to St 
 Mark's to breathe the evening air. My f£^ther and 
 brothel's are already depfirted, ^nd I pnly stay to 
 make sure of the bolts." 
 
 " Their gondola will hold a fourth ?" 
 
 " They h^ve gone by the footways," 
 
 " And thou walkest the streets alone at this hour, 
 Annina?" 
 
 " I know not thy right to question it, if I do," 
 returned the girl, with spirit. " San Teodoro be 
 praised^ I am not yet the slave of a ^Neapolitan's 
 seryitor !" 
 
 " The Neapolitan is a powerful noble, Annina, able 
 and willing to keep his servitors in respect." 
 
 " He w»l have need of all his interest — but why 
 bast thou come at this unseasonable hour? Thy 
 ' ■ 2 E 
 
326 THE BRAVO. 
 
 visits are never too welcome, Gino, and when I have 
 other affairs, they are disagreeable." 
 
 Had the passion of the gondolier been very deep 
 or very sensitive, this plain dealing might have given 
 him a shock ; but Gino appeared to take the repulse 
 as coolly as it was given. 
 
 "1 am used to thy caprices, Annina," he said, 
 throwing himself upon a bench, like one determined 
 to remain where he was. " Some young patrician 
 has kissed his hand to thee as thou hast crossed San 
 Marco, or thy father has made a better day oi it 
 than common on the Lido — thy pride always mounts 
 with thy father's purse." 
 
 "Diamine! to hear the fellow, one would think 
 he had my troth, and that he only waited m the sa- 
 v^iisty for the candles to be lighted, to receive my 
 vows ! What art thou to me, Gino Tullini, that thou 
 takest on thee these sudden airs ?" 
 
 "And what art thou to me, Annina, that thou 
 playest off these worn-out caprices on Don Camillo's 
 confidant?" 
 
 " Out upon thee, insolent ! I have no time to waste 
 in idleness." 
 
 " Thou art in much haste to-night, Annina." 
 
 " To be rid of thee. Now listen to what I say, 
 Gino, and let every word go to thy heart, for they 
 are the last thou wilt ever hear from me. Thou 
 servest a decayed noble, one who will short\y be 
 chased in disgrace from the city, and with him wil) 
 go all his idle servitors. I choose to remain in the 
 city of my birth." 
 
 The gondolier laughed in real indifference at hei 
 affected scorn. But remembering his errand, he 
 quickly assumed a graver air, and endeavored to 
 still the resentment of his fickle mistress, by a more 
 resj)ectful manner. 
 
 ' St. Mark protect me, Annina !" he said. " If we 
 are not to kneel before the good priore together, i> 
 
THE BRAVO 327 
 
 18 no reason we should not bargain in wines. Here 
 have I come into tlie clarR canals, within stone's- 
 throw of thy very door, with a gondola of mellow 
 Lachryma Christi, such as honest 'Maso, thy father, 
 has rarely dealt in, and thou treatest me as a dog, 
 that is chased from a church!" 
 
 " I have little time for thee, or thy wines, to-night, 
 Gino. Hadst thou not stayed me, I should already 
 have been abroad and happy." 
 
 " Close thy door, girl, and make little ceremony 
 with an old friend," said the gondolier, officiously 
 offering to aid her in securing the dwelling. Annina 
 took him at his word, and as both appeared to work 
 with good will, the house was locked, and the wilful 
 girl and her suitor were soon in the street. Their 
 route lay across tHe bridge already named. Gino 
 pointed to the gondola, as he said, "Thou art not to 
 he tempted, Annina ?" 
 
 "Thy rasl^ness in leading the smugglers to my 
 father's door will bring lis to harm some day, silly 
 fellow!" 
 
 " The boldness of the act will prevent suspicion." 
 
 "Of what vineyard is the liquor?" 
 
 " It came from the foot of Vesuvius, and is ripen- 
 ed by the heat of the volcano. Should my friends 
 part with it to thy enemy, old Beppo, thy father will 
 rue the hour!" 
 
 Annina, who was much addicted to consulting her 
 interests on all occasions, cast a longing glance al 
 the boat. The canopy was closed, but it was large, 
 and her willing imagination readily induced her to 
 fancy it. well filled with sldns from Naples. 
 
 "This will be the last of thy visits to our door, 
 Gino?" 
 
 " As thou shalt please. — But go down and taste — 
 
 Annina hesitated, and, as a woman is said always 
 to do when she hesitates, she complied. They reach- 
 td the boat, with quick steps, and without regarding 
 
328 THE BRAVO. 
 
 the men who were still lounging on the thwajrts, An- 
 nina glided immediately-beneath the canopy. A fifth 
 gondolier was lying at length on the cushions, for, 
 unlike a boat devoted to the contraband, the canopy 
 had the usual arrangement of a bark of the canals. 
 
 " I see nothing to turn me aside !" exclaimed the 
 disappointed giri. "Wilt thou aught with me, 
 Sign^re I" 
 
 " Thou art welcome. We shall fiot part so readily 
 as before." 
 
 The strange?; had arisen while speaking, and as 
 he ended, he laid a hand on the shoulder pf hjs visit- 
 or, who found herself confronted witb Don CamiUo 
 Monforte. 
 
 Annina was too much practised in deception to 
 indulge in any of the ordinary female sympfonis, 
 either of real or of affected alarm. Copimanding 
 her features, though in truth her limbs shook, she 
 said, with assijni.ed pleasantry — 
 
 " The secret trade is honored in th,(» services of 
 the noble Duke of St. Agata !" 
 
 " I an) not here to trifle, girl, as thou wijt see in 
 the end. Thou hast thy choice before thee, frank 
 corifessjon, or my just anger." 
 
 Don Cami}}p gpoke calmly, b^t 4p a manner that 
 plainly showed Annina she had to deal with a reso- 
 lute man. 
 
 "What confesjsjpn would your eccellenza have 
 from the daughter of a poor winerseller V she asked, 
 her voice trembling in spite of l^erself, 
 
 " The truth — and remember, that this tjme we do 
 not part until I am satisfied. The Venetian police 
 and I are now fairly at issue, and thou art the first 
 fruits of my plan." 
 
 " Signpr Duca, this is a bold step to take in the 
 heart of the canals !" 
 
 "The consequences be mine. Thy interest will 
 teach thee to confess.' 
 
THE BRAVO 329 
 
 " I shall make no great merit, Signore, of doing 
 that which is forced upon me. As it is your pleas- 
 ure to know the little I can tell you, I am happy to 
 be permitted to relate it." 
 
 " Speak, then ; for time presses." 
 
 " Signore, I shall not pretend to deny you have 
 been ill-treated. Capperi ! how ill has the council 
 treated you ! A noble cavalier, of a strange country, 
 who, the meanest gossip in Venice knows, has a just 
 right to the honors of the senate, to be so treated is 
 a disgrace to the republic ! I do not wonder that 
 your eccellenza is out of humor with them. Blessed 
 St. Mark himself would lose his patience to be thus 
 treated!" 
 
 " A truce with this, girl, and to your facts." 
 
 "My facts, Signor Duca, are a thousand times 
 clearer than the sun, and they are all at your eccel- 
 lenza's service. I am sure I wish I had more of 
 them, since they give you pleasure." 
 
 " Enough of this jprofession. — Speak to the facts 
 themselves." 
 
 Annina, who, in the manner of most of her class 
 in Italy, that had been exposed to the intrigues of 
 the towns, had been lavish of her words, now found 
 means to cast a glance at the water, when she saw 
 that the boat had already quitted the canals, and 
 was rowing easily out upon the Lagunes. Perceiv- 
 ing how completely she was in the power of Don 
 Camillo, she began to feel the necessity of being 
 more explicit. 
 
 " Your eccellenza has probably suspected that the 
 council found means to be acquainted with your in- 
 tention to fly from the city with Donna Violetta?" 
 
 " All that is known to me." 
 
 " Why they chose me to be the servitor of the 
 noble lady is beyond my powers to discovei Out 
 ijady of Loretto ! I am not the person to be sent for 
 when the state wishes to part two lovers !" 
 2E2 
 
'iW THE BRAVO. 
 
 " I have borne with thee, Annina, becaijse I would 
 let the gondola get beyond the limits of the city ; but 
 now thou must throw aside thy subterfuge, and speak 
 plainly. Where didst thou leave r»y wife 1 " 
 
 " Does your eccellepza then think Jhe state wiU 
 admit the marriage to be legaj'!'' 
 
 " Girl, answer, or I will find means to make thee. 
 Where didst thou leave my wife?" 
 
 ^' Blessed St. Theodore ! Signore, the agejits of the 
 republic had little need of me, and I was put oa the 
 first bridge that the gondola passed." 
 
 " Thou strives! to deceive me jn vaiou Thqu waet 
 on the'Lagunes till a late hour in the day, and I have 
 notice of thy having visited the prison of St. Ma^rk 
 as the sun was setting ; and this on thy return from 
 the boat of Donna Violettq." 
 
 There was no acting in the wonder of Annina. 
 
 " Santissima Maria i You are better served, Sig- 
 nore, than the coi^ncil thinks ! " 
 
 "• As thou wilt find lo thy cost, unless the truth be 
 spoken. From what convent didst thou cpm©'?" 
 
 f' Signore, from none. If your eccellenza has dis- 
 covered that the senate has shut up the Sjgnora 
 Tiepolo, in the prison of St. Mark, fof gafe-keeping, 
 it is no fault of mine." 
 
 " Thy artifice is useless, Anning.;" observed Don 
 Camillo, calmly. " Thou wast in the prison, in quest 
 of forbidden articles that thou hadst long left \yith 
 thy cousin Gelsomina, the keeper's daughter, v?ho 
 little suspected thy errand, and on whose innocence 
 and ignorance of the world thou hast long success- 
 fully practised. Donna Vipletta is no vulgsir pris- 
 oner, tp be immured in a jaij." 
 
 " Santissima Madre dj Dio !" 
 
 Amazement confined the answer of the girl to 
 this single, but strong, exclamation. 
 
 " Thou seest the impossibility of deception. I am 
 acquainted with so much of thy movements as |o 
 
THE BRAVa 991 
 
 render it impossible that ttiou should'st lead oie far 
 astray. Thou art not wont to visit thy cousin ; but 
 
 as thou entered the canals tjiis evening " 
 
 A shout on the water caused Don Cainillo to 
 
 Eause. On looking out he saw a dense body of 
 oats, sweeping towards the town as if they were 
 all impelled by a single set of oars. A thousand 
 voices were speaking at one? , and occasionaUy a 
 general and doleful cry proclaimed that the flpating 
 multitude, which came on, was moved by a com- 
 mon fe^Bng. The singularity of the spectacle, and 
 the fact that his own gondola lay directh^ in ,the 
 route of the fleet, which was composed of^several 
 hundred boats, drove the examination of the girl 
 momentarily, from the thoughts of the noble. 
 
 " What have we here, Jacopo 1" he d^mande^, i{i 
 an under-tone, of the gondolier who steered his own 
 barge. 
 
 " They are fishermen, Signore, and by the man- 
 ner in which they come down towards the canals, I 
 doubt they are bent on some disturbance. There 
 has been discontent among them since the refusal of 
 the dogfj to liberate the boy of their companion from 
 the galleys." 
 
 Curiosity induced the people of Don Camillo to 
 linger a minute, and then they perceived the neces- 
 sity of pulling out of the course of the floating mass, 
 which came on like a torrent, the men sweeping 
 their boats with that desperate; stroke which is so 
 oflen seen among the Italian oarsmen. A menacing 
 hail, with a command to remain, admonished Don 
 Camillo of the necessity of downright flight, or of 
 obedience. He chose the latter, as the least likely 
 to interfere with his own plans. 
 
 " Who art thou V demanded one, who had as- 
 sumed the character of a leader. " If men of the 
 Lagunes and Christians, join your friends, and away 
 witix us to St. Mark, for justice !" 
 
332 THE BRAVO. 
 
 " What means this tumult?" asked Don Camillo^ 
 whose dress effectually concealed his rank, a dis- 
 guise that he compreted by adopting the Venetian 
 dialect. "Why are you here in these numbers, 
 Friends ?" 
 
 "Behold!" 
 
 Don Camillo turned, and he beheld the withered 
 features and glaring eyes of old Antonio, fixed in 
 death. The explanation was made by a hundred 
 voices, accompanied by oaths so bitter, and denun- 
 ciations so deep, that had not Don Camillo been 
 prepared by the tale of Jacopo, he would have found 
 great difficulty in understanding what he heard. 
 
 In dragging the Lagunes for fish, the body of 
 Antonio had been found, and the result was, first a 
 consultation on the probable means of his death, 
 then a collection of the men of his calling, and 
 finally the scene described. 
 
 "Giustizia!" exclaimed fifty excited voices, as 
 the grim visage of the fisherman was held towards 
 the light of the moon ; " Giustizia in Palazzo e pane 
 in Piazza !" 
 
 " Askit of the senate!" returned Jacopo, not at- 
 tempting to conceal the derision of his tones. 
 
 " Thinkest thou our fellow has suffered for his 
 boldness yesterday?" 
 
 " Stranger things have happened in Venice !" 
 
 " They forbid us to cast our nets in the Canale 
 Orfano, lest the secrets of justice should be known, 
 and yet they have grown bold enough to drown 
 one of our own people in the midst of our gondolas !" 
 
 " Justice, justice !" shouted numberless hoarse 
 throats. 
 
 " Away to St. Mark's I Lay the body at the feet 
 of the doge — away, brethren — Antonio's blood is on 
 heir souls ! " 
 
 Bent on a wild and undigested scheme of assert- 
 *g their wrongs, the fishermen again plied their 
 
THE BRAVa 333 
 
 oars, and the whole fleet swept away, as if it were 
 composed of a single mass. 
 
 The meeting, though so short, was accompanied 
 by cries, menaces, and all those accustomed signs 
 of rage which mark a popular tumult among those 
 excitable people, and it had produced a sensible 
 eflect on the nerves of Annina. Don Camillo profit- 
 ed by her evident terc^r to press his questions, for 
 the hour no longer admitted of trifling. 
 
 The result was, that while the agitated mob 
 swept into the mouth of the Great Canal, raising 
 hoarse shouts, the gondola of Don Camillo Mon- 
 forte glided away across the wide and tranquil sur- 
 face of the Lagunes. 
 
 CHAPTER XXm. 
 
 •• A Cnifibrd, a Cliflbrd ! we'll follow the king and Clifford." 
 
 Henry VI. 
 
 The tranquillity of the best ordered society may 
 be disturbed, at any time, by a sudden outbreaking 
 of the malcontents. Against such a disaster there 
 is no more guarding than against the commission 
 of more vulgar crimes; but when a government 
 trembles for its existence, before the turbulence ot 
 popular commotion, it is reasonable to infer some 
 radical defect in its organization. Men will rally 
 around their institutions, as freely as they rally 
 around any other cherished interest, when they 
 merit their care, and there can be no surer sign of 
 their hoUowness than when the rulers seriously ap- 
 prehend the breath of the mob. No nation ever 
 axhibited more of this symptomatic terror, on all 
 
occasions of internal disturbance^ than tfte prfeteiid- 
 ing republic of Venice. There ^as a never-ceasing 
 and a natural tendency to dissolution, in her factious 
 system, ^hich was only resisted by the alertness of 
 her aristocracy, and the political buttressi^s which 
 their ingenuity had reared. Much wag isaid of the 
 venerable bharacter of her polity, and of its conse- 
 quent security, but it is in vain that Selfishness con 
 ♦ends with truth. Of all the fallacies with which 
 man has attempted to gloss his e*pedieh6s, there is 
 none more evidently false than that which infers trie 
 duriattion of a social system, from the lehgth of time 
 it has already lasted. It would be quite as I'easona' 
 ble to affirm that the man of stivleHty ha^' the saiWe 
 chances for life as the youth of fifteen, or that the 
 inevitable fate of all things of mortal origin was 
 not destruction. There is a- period in human exist- 
 ence, when the principle of vitality has to conlend 
 with the feebleness of infancy, but this probationary 
 state passed, the child attains the age when it has 
 the most reasonable prospect of living. Thus the 
 social, like any other, piachine, which h^, run just 
 long enough to prove its fitness, is at the precise 
 period when it is least likely to fail, and although. he 
 that is young may not live to becoWre old, it is per- 
 tain that he who is old- was once yoting. The em- 
 pire of China was, in its time, as youthful as our 
 own republic, nor can we see any reason for be- 
 heving that it is to outlast us, from the decrepitude 
 which is a natural companion of its years. 
 
 At the period of Our tale, Venice boasted rtiuch 
 of her antiquity, and dreaded, in an equal degree, 
 her end. She Was still strong ill he^i- Coftibinatiolis, 
 blW they were cotnbinatiolls that had the vicious 
 errof of being fortned for the benefit of the mitibri- 
 ty, and which, Hke the mimic fortresses and moats 
 of a scenic, representation, heeded only a strcftl'g 
 flght to destroy the illusion. The alarrri witli 
 
THE BRAVO. 385 
 
 which the patricians heard the shduts df the fisner^ 
 men, as they swept by the different palaces, on 
 their way to the great square, cart be readily ima- 
 gined. Some feared that the final consummation of 
 their artifixiial condition, xvhich had so long been 
 airtffeipatW by a secret political instinct, was at 
 length arriTtgd, and began to bethink them of the 
 safest ttieans of providing for their own security. 
 Some listened in admiration, for habit had sa far 
 irtastered dullness, as fo have created a species of 
 ideAffrty between the state and fair more durable 
 things, and they believed that St. Mark had gained 
 a victory, in that decline, which was never exactly 
 inteHigibte to their apathetic capacities. But a few, 
 and these were the spirits that accumulated all the 
 national good Which was vulgkrly and falsely 
 ascribed to the systetn itself, intuitively compre- 
 hended the dailger, With a justappreciatioft of its 
 rh^hitUde, as well as of the means to avoid it. 
 
 But the rioters were unequal to Any estimate of 
 their own force, and had little aptitude in measuring 
 their accidental advantages. They acted merely 
 on impuTse. The manner in which theiif aged com- 
 panion had triumphed on the ptecteding day, his 
 cold repulse by the doge, and the scene of the Lido, 
 which in truth led to the death of Antonio, had pre- 
 pared their minds for the tumult. When the body 
 was found, therefore, after the time netessary to 
 collect their forces on the Lagunes, they yielded to 
 passion, and moved away towards the palar.e of 
 St. Mark, as described, without any other definite 
 object than a simple indulgence of feeling. 
 
 On entei'ing the canal, the narrowness of the pas 
 sage compressed the boats into a mass so dense, as, 
 in a measure, to impe<fe the use of oars, and the 
 progress of the crowd was necessarily slow. -Ail 
 #ere anXktus to get as near as polssible to the body 
 of Antonio, and, like all mobs, they in some degi'ee 
 
336 THE BRAVO. 
 
 frustrated their own objects, by ill-regulated zeal 
 Once or twice the names of offensive senators were 
 shouted, as if the fishermen intended to visit the 
 crimes of the state on its agents ; but these cries 
 passed away in the violent breath that was expend- 
 ed. On reaching the bridge of the Rialto, more 
 than half of the multitude landed, and took the 
 shorter course of the streets to the point of destina- 
 tion, while those in front got on the faster, for being 
 disembarrassed of the pressure in the rear. As 
 they drew nearer to the port, the boats began to 
 loosen, and to take something of the form of a 
 funeral procession. 
 
 It was during this moment of change that a 
 powerfully manned gondola swept, with strong 
 strokes, out of a lateral passage into the Great 
 Canal. Accident brought it directly in front of the 
 moving phalanx of boats, that was coming down 
 the same channel. Its crew seemed staggered by 
 the extraordinary appearance, which met their 
 view, and for an instant its course was undecided. 
 
 " A gondola of the republic !" shouted fifty fisher- 
 men. A single voice added-^" Canale Orfano !" 
 
 The bare suspicion of such an errand, as was 
 implied by the latter words, and at that moment, 
 was sufficient to excite the mob. They raised a 
 cry of denunciation, and some twenty boats made 
 a furious demonstration of pursuit The menace, 
 however, was sufficient ; for quicker far than the 
 movements of the pursuers, the gondoliers of the 
 republic dashed towards the shore, and leaping on 
 one of those passages of planks, which encircle so 
 many of the palaces of Venice, they disappeared 
 by an alley. 
 
 Encouraged by this success, the fishermen seized 
 the boat as a waif, and towed it into their own fleet, 
 lUing the air with cries of triumph. Curiosity led 
 
'ITIK BRAVI). 337 
 
 a few tr enter the hearse-like canopy, whence they 
 immediately reissued, dragging foith a priest 
 
 "Who art thou?" hoarsely demanded he, who 
 took upon himself the authority of a leader. 
 
 "A Carmelite, and a servant of God !" 
 
 " Dost thou serve St Mark? Hast thou been to 
 the" Oanale Orfano, to shrive a wretch?" 
 
 " I am here, in attendance on a young and noble 
 lady, who has need of my council and prayers. The 
 happy and the miserable, the free and the captive, 
 are equally my care ! " 
 
 "Ha! — Thou art not above thy office? — Thou 
 vpilt say the prayers for the dead, in behalf of a 
 poor man's soul?" 
 
 " My son, I know no difierence, in this respect, 
 between the do^e and the poorest fisherman. StiU 
 I would not wilhngly desert the females." 
 
 " The ladles shall receive no harm. Come into 
 my boat, for there is need of thy holy office." 
 
 Father Anselmo — the reader will readily anti- 
 cipate that it was he — entered the canopy, said a 
 few words in explanation,- to his trembling com- 
 panions, und complied. He was rowed to the lead- 
 ing gondola, and, by a sign, directed to the dead 
 Dody. 
 
 "Thou see'st that corpse, father?" continued his 
 conductor. " It is the face of one who was an up- 
 right and pious Christian !" 
 
 « He was." 
 
 " We all knew him as the oldest and the most skil- 
 ful fisherman of the Lagunes, and one ever ready 
 to assist an unlucky companion." 
 
 " I can believe thee !" 
 
 " Thou mayest, for the holy books are not more 
 true than my words — yesterday he came dowa 
 this very canal, in triumph, for he bore away the 
 honors of' the regatta from the stoutest oars ia 
 Venice." 
 
 2F 
 
as? THE BRAVO. 
 
 ^ I ha'v^ heard of his success." 
 
 " They say that Jasapq, the Bravo — he who once 
 heW the h^t oar ia the canals — was of the party ! 
 Santa Madonna.! such a nian was too pEeeious to 
 die!" 
 
 'Alt is the fate of afl^-rich and poor, strong and 
 feeble, happy and miserable, must alike come to thia 
 ewd." 
 
 ^ N.oli 1,Q this end, reverend Carsaehte, for Anto* 
 ^Q h^'^ii^ given olSenee. to the repubBo, 'm the {nat- 
 ter of a grandson that is pressed for the galleys^ has 
 peen sent to juurgatory without a Christian hope for 
 his souj," 
 
 There is an eye that watcheth on the meanest oi 
 us, son ; we wifll believe he was not forgotte^ii?' 
 
 " Cospetto ! — They my that thosft the seiiate look 
 black upon, get but little aid feom the church!' Wilt 
 thou pray foi: hjms Carmelite^ and mak© good thy 
 words?" 
 
 " I wJjm," said Father Aoseh»o, fisrismty^. ** Make 
 room, son, that lao cteeeacy of my duty be over- 
 looked." 
 
 The, swarthy, expressive, faces of the fishermen 
 gleamed withi satisfection, for in the midlst qf the 
 rude turmoil, they all retained a deep and rooted 
 respect for the offices of the clwrch in which they 
 b^ bee?; educated- Silejjce was qjaickly obtained, 
 and the boats moved on wiDh grreater Qrder than 
 before. 
 
 The speclacle was now striking-^ln front rowed 
 the, gondola which contained the remains of the 
 dead. The widening; of the canal, as it approached 
 the port, permitted the rays of the. moon to fell upon 
 thie, rigid features of old Antonio*, which were set in 
 suchi a Ipok, as might be supposed to chasacteeize 
 tbft c-'ywg thoughts of a man so suddenly and so 
 ^^r^^ destroyed, The CariB^te,, bare-headeifc 
 with clasped hands, and a devout heart, bowed' his 
 
THE BRAVU 309 
 
 head at the feet of the body, with hia white robes 
 flowing in the light of the moon. A single gondolier 
 guided the boat, and no other noise was audible but 
 the plash of the water, as the oars slowly fell and 
 rose together. This silent procession lasted a fbw 
 minutes, and then the tremmous Voice of the monk 
 was heard chanting the prayers for the dead. The 
 practised fishermen, for few in that disciplined 
 church, and that obedient age, were ignorant of 
 those soleoiti rites, took up the responses, in a man- 
 ijer that must be familiar to every ear that has ever 
 listened to the sounds o( Italy,. the g^tle washing of 
 the element, on which they glided, forming a soff 
 accompaniment. Casement ailer casement opened 
 while they passed, and a thousand curious ana anx- 
 iou9^ faces crcrwded the balconies, as the funeral cor- 
 tgge swept slowly on. 
 
 The sondola of the republic was towed in the 
 centre of the moving mass, by fifty lighter boats, for 
 tjhe fishermeuf still wng to their prize. In this man-^ 
 ner the solemn procession entered the port, and 
 touched the qjuay at the foot of the Piazzetta. While 
 numberless eager hands were aiding in bringing the 
 body of Antonio to land, there arose a shout from 
 the centre of the ducal palace,, which proclaimed the 
 presence already of the other part of tneir body in 
 »ts court. 
 
 The squares of St. Mark now presented a novel 
 picture. The quaint and oriental chuivh, the rows 
 of massive and rich architecture, the giddy pile of 
 the CampanilOr the columns of granite, the masts of 
 triumph, and all those peculiar and remarkable fix- 
 tures, which haid witnessed so many scenes of vio- 
 lence, of rejoicing, of mourning, and of gaiety, were 
 there, like land-marks of the earth, defying time; 
 beautiful and venerable in despite of all those vary- 
 ing exhibitions of human passions, that were daily 
 4cted around them. 
 
 22 
 
S40 THE BRAVC 
 
 But the song, the laugh, and the jest, had ceased. 
 The lights of the coffee-houses had disappeared, the 
 revellers had fled to their homes, fearful of being 
 confounded with those who braved the anger of the 
 senate, while the grotesque, the ballad-singers, and 
 the buffoon, had abandoned their assumed gaiety for 
 an appearance more in unison with the true feelings 
 of their hearts. 
 
 " Giustizia ! — " cried a thousand deep voices, as 
 the body of Antonio was borne into the court — 
 "Illustrious Doge! Giustizia in palazzo, e pane in 
 piazza! Give us justice! We are beggars foi 
 justice!" 
 
 The glooniy but vast court was paved with the 
 swarthy faces and glittering eyes of the fishermen. 
 The corpse was laid at the foot of the Giant's Stairs, 
 while the trembhng halberdier at the head of the 
 flight, scarce commanded himself sufficiently to 
 maintain that air of firmness, which was exacted 
 by discipline and professional pride. But there was 
 no other show of military force, for the politic pow- 
 er, which ruled in Venice, knew too well its moment- 
 ary impotency to irritate when it could not quell. 
 The mob beneath was composed of nameless rioters, 
 whose punishment could carry no other consequences 
 than the suppression of immediate danger, and for 
 that, those who ruled were not prepared. 
 
 The Council -of Three had been apprized of the 
 arrival of the excited fishermen. When the mob 
 entered the court, it was consulting in secret con- 
 clave, on the probabilities of the tumult having a 
 graver and more determined object, than was ap- 
 parent in the visible symptoms. The routine of 
 office had not yet dispossessed the men already pre- 
 sented to the reader, of their dangerous and des- 
 potic power. 
 
 " Are the Dalmatians apprized of this movement?'' 
 asked one of the secret tribunal, whose nerves were 
 
THE BRAVO. 341 
 
 scarcely equal to the high functions he discharged. 
 " We ipay have occasion for their volleys, ere this 
 riot is appeased." 
 
 " Confide in the ordinary authorities for that, Sig- 
 nore," answered the Senator Gradenigo. " I have 
 only concern, lest some conspiracy, which may 
 touch the fidelity of the troops, lies concealed be- 
 neath the outcry." 
 
 " The evil passions of man know no limits ! What 
 would the wretches have ? For a state in the decline, 
 Venice is to the last degree prosperous. Our ships 
 are thriving ; the bank flourishes with goodly divi- 
 dends ; and I do assure you, Signore, that, for many 
 years, I have not known so ample revenues for most 
 of our interests, as at this hour. All cannot thrive 
 alike!" 
 
 " You are happily connected with flourishing af- 
 fairs, Signore, but there are many that are less lucky. 
 Our form of government is somewhat exclusive, and 
 it is a penalty that we have ever p^ for its advan- 
 tages, to be liable to sudden and malevolent accu- 
 sations, for any evil turn of fortune that besets the 
 republic." 
 
 " Can nothing satisfy these exacting spirits ? Are 
 they not free — are they not happy?" 
 
 " It would seem that they want better assurance 
 of these facts, than our own feelings, or our words." 
 
 " Man is the creature of envy ! The poor desire 
 to be rich — the weak, powerful." 
 
 " There is an exception to your rule, at least, Sig- 
 nore, since the rich rarely wish to be poor, or the 
 powerful, weak." 
 
 " You deride my sentiments, tc^-raght, Signor Gra- 
 denigo. I speak, I hope, as becomes a senator of 
 Venice, and in a manner that you are not unaccus- 
 tomed to hear!" 
 
 " Nay, the language is not unusual. But I feai 
 me, there is something unsuited to a falling fortune 
 2F2 
 
g4S THE BRAVQ. 
 
 in the exaclwg and narrow spirit of our laws 
 When a state is ewiinently flourishing, its subjeets 
 overlook general defects, in private prosperity, bql 
 there is no more fastidious commentator on meas- 
 ures than your jperchant of a failing trade," 
 
 " This is their gratitude ! Have we not converted 
 these i»«ddy Jstes into » majrt foir half ChristeBdon:^ 
 and now they are dissatisfied that they cannot retain 
 all the monopolies that itfe? wisdom of our ancestors 
 has accumulated." 
 
 " They complain jnuch in your own spirit, Sjg- 
 nore, — but you are iOght in saying the present rial 
 must be looked to, l-et us s^ his highness, whu? 
 wffl go fput to the peopJe, with such patricians an 
 may be present, and one of our number as a witness : 
 more than that might expose our character." 
 
 The Secret Council withdrew to carry ithis resolu 
 tion into ^ifeet, just as the fisheraien in the court re 
 e^Jvgd the accession of those wlw arrived by water 
 
 There is no hodj ^o sensible of an increase of its 
 members as a mob. Without jdigcipline, and depend- 
 ent golely on animal force for its ascendency, the 
 sentiment of physical power is blended with iis very 
 existence, When they saw the mass of living beings 
 which had assembW within the wall of the ducal 
 palace, the most audacious of that throng became 
 more hardy, and even the w*vwing grew st|»ng. 
 This is the reverse of the feeMng which prevails 
 among those who are called on to repress this species 
 of violence, who generally gain courage as ite exhi- 
 bition is least required. 
 
 The throng in the court was raising one of its 
 Loudest and most meijaeing qries as the train of the 
 doge appeared, approaching by one of the long open 
 galleries of the principal floor of the edifice. 
 
 The presence of the venerable man who nomi- 
 lally presided over that factitious state, and the long 
 iraining of the fishermen in habits of defere«c.e to 
 
THE BRAVO. S43 
 
 aattionty, notwithstanding their plresent tone of in- 
 Bubordiiiation, caused a sudden and deep silence. A 
 feeling of awe gradually stole over the thousand dark 
 faces that were gazing upwards, as the little cor- 
 tege drew near. So profound, indeed, was the still- 
 ness caused by this sentiment, that the rustling of 
 the duoftl robes was audiMe, as the ^inc^t impeded 
 by his infirmities, and consulting the state usual to his 
 rank, slowly advajtced. The previous violence of 
 the untutored fishermen, and their present deferemce 
 to the external state that met their eyes, had its ori- 
 gin in the same causes ; — ignorance atid habit were 
 the parents of both. 
 
 "Why are ye assembled here, my children]" 
 asked thedogSy when he had reached the summit 
 of the Giant's Stairs, — " and most of all, why have 
 ye come into the palace of your prince, with these 
 unbefitting cries V 
 
 The tremulous voice of the old man was ctearly 
 audible, for the lowest of its tones was scarcely in- 
 terrupted by a breath. The fishermen gazed at 
 each other, and all appeared to search fot him Who 
 might be bold enough to answer. At length one in 
 the centre of the crowded mass, and effectually con- 
 cealed from observation, cried, "Justice!'* 
 
 " Such is our object," mildly continued the ptin6& ; 
 " and such, I will add, is our practice. Why ar6 ye 
 assembled here, in a manner so offensive to ttie state, 
 and so disrespectful to your prince?" 
 
 Still none answered. The only Spirit of their 
 body, which had been capable of freeing itself from 
 the trammels of usage and pr^udiee, had deserted 
 the shell which lay on the lower step of the Giant's 
 Stairs. 
 
 "Will none! ^eak?-*nre ye so bold witli your 
 voices when unquestioned, and so silent wheft con- 
 ronted^" 
 
 " Speak them fair, your highness," whispered lie 
 
344 THE BRAVO 
 
 of the council, who was commissioned to be a secret 
 witness of the interview; — ^"the Dalmatians are 
 scarce yet apparelled." ^ 
 
 The prince bowed to advice which he well knew 
 must be respected, and he assumed his former tone. 
 
 " If none will acquaint me with your wants, I must 
 command you to retire, and while my parental heart 
 grieves " 
 
 "Giustiza!" repeated the hidden member of the 
 crowd. 
 
 " Name thy wants, that we may know them." 
 
 " Highness ! deign to look at this !" 
 
 One bolder than the rest had turned the body ol 
 Antonio to the moon, in a manner to expose the 
 ghastly features, and, as he spoke, he .pointed to- 
 wards the spectacle he had prepared. The prince 
 started at the unexpected sight, and, slowly de- 
 scending the steps, closely accompanied by his com- 
 panions and his guards, he paused over the body. 
 
 "Has the assassin done this?" he asked, after 
 looking at the dead fisherman, and crossing himself. 
 " What could the end of one like this profit a Bravo ' 
 — haply the unfortunate man hath fallen in a broil 
 of his class?" 
 
 " Neither, illustrious doge ! we fear that Antonio 
 has suffered for the displeasure of St. Mark!" 
 
 "Antonio! Is this the hardy' fisherman who 
 would have taught us how to rule in the state re- 
 gatta!" 
 
 " Eccellenza, it is ;" returned the simple laborer 
 of the Lagunes, — " and a better hand with a net, or 
 a truer friend in need, never rowed a gondola, to 
 or from the Lido. Dfavalo! It would have done 
 your highness pleasure to have seen the poor old 
 Christian among us, on a saint's day, taking the 
 lead in our little ceremonies, and teaching us the 
 manner in which our fathers used to do ciedit to 
 the craft!" 
 
THE BRAVO. 945 
 
 •' Or to have been with us, illustrious doge," cried 
 another, for, the ice once broken, the tongues of a 
 mob soon grow bold, " in a merry-making, on the 
 Lido, when old Antonio was always the foremost in 
 the laaghy and the discreetest in knowing when to 
 be grave." 
 
 The doge began to have a dawning of the trOth, 
 and he cast a glance aside to examine the couate- 
 nance of the unknown inquisitoir.^ 
 
 " It is far easier to understand the merits of the 
 unfortunate ifoan, than the manner of his death," he 
 said, finding no explanation in the drilled members 
 of the face he had scrutinized. " Will any of your 
 party expkin the facts 1" 
 
 The principal speaker among the fishermen will- 
 ingly took on himself the office, and, in the desultO' 
 ry manner of one of his habits, he acquainted the 
 doge with the circumstances connected with the 
 finding of tile body. When he had doney the prince 
 again asked explanations, with his eye, from the sen- 
 ator at his side, for he was ignorant wliether the 
 policv of the state required an example, or simply a 
 death." 
 
 " I see nothing itt this, your Highness," observed 
 lie of the council, "but the chances of a fisherman. 
 The unhappy*old man has come to his end by acci- 
 dent, ai*d it would be charity to have a few masses 
 said for his sonl." 
 
 " Noble senator !" exclaimed the fisherman, douk- 
 irtgly, "Sf. Mark was offended!" 
 
 " Rawior tells many idle tales of the pleasure and 
 displeasure of St. Mark. If we are to believe all 
 (hat the wit of men can devise, in affairs of this na- 
 ture, the criminals are not drowned in the Lagunes, 
 but in the Canale Orfano." 
 
 " True, ecccllenza, and we are forbidden to cast 
 jur nets there, on pain of sleeping with the eels at 
 *t8 bottom." 
 
346 THK BRAVO. 
 
 " So much greater reason for believl.ig that' this 
 old man hath died by accident. Is there mark of 
 violence on his body ? — for though the state could 
 scarcely occupy itself with such as he, some other 
 might. Hath the condition of the body been looked 
 to T" 
 
 " Eccellenza, it was enough to cast one of hi.? 
 years into the centre of the Lagunes. The stoutest 
 arm in Venice could not save him." 
 
 " There may have been violence in some quarrel, 
 and the proper authority should be vigilant. Here 
 is a Carmelite! — Father, do you know aught of 
 this ?" 
 
 The monk endeavored to answer, but his voice 
 failed. He stared wildly about him, for the whole 
 scene resembled some frightful picture of the imagi- 
 nation, and then folding his arms on his bosom, he 
 appeared to resume his prayers. 
 
 "Thou dost not answer. Friar T" observed the 
 doge, who had been as effectually deceived, by tiie 
 natural and indifferent manner of the inquisitor, as 
 any other of his auditors. " Where didst thou find 
 this body?" 
 
 Father Anselmo briefly explained the manner in 
 which he had been pressed into the service of the 
 fishermen. » 
 
 At the elbow of the prince there stood a young 
 patrician, who, at the moment, filled no other office 
 in the state, than such as belonged to his birth. De- 
 ceived, like the others, by the manner of the only 
 one who knew the real cause of Antonio's death, he 
 felt a humane and praiseworthy desire to make sure 
 that no foul play had been exercised towards the 
 victim. 
 
 " I have heard of this Antonio," said this person, 
 who was called the Senator Soranzo, and who was 
 gifted by naturp with feelings that, in any other 
 form of government, would have made him a phi' 
 
THE BRAVO. 347 
 
 tanthropist^ — " and of his success in the regatta. 
 Was it not said that Jacopo, the Bravo, was hia 
 competitor?" 
 
 A low, meaning, and common murmur ran through 
 the throng. 
 
 " A man of his reputed passions and ferocity 
 may well have spught to revenge defeat, by vio 
 lence!" 
 
 A second, and ti louder murmur denoted the effect 
 this suggestion had produced. 
 
 " Eccellenza, Jacopo deals in the stiletto!" ob- 
 served the half-credulous but still doubting fisher- 
 man. 
 
 " That is as may be necessary. A man of his art 
 and character may have recourse to other means to 
 gratify his malice. Do you not agree with me, Sig- 
 nore f " 
 
 * The Senator Soranzo put this question, m perfect 
 good faith, to the unknown member of the secret 
 council. The latter appeared struck with the prob 
 ability of the truth of nis companion's conjecture, 
 but contented himself, with a simple acknowledg- 
 ment to that effect, by bowing. 
 
 " Jacopo ! — Jacopo I " hoarsely repeated voice 
 after voice in the crowd — " Jacopo has done this ! 
 The best gondolier in Venice has been beaten by an 
 old fisherman, and nothing but blood could wipe out 
 the disgrace!" 
 
 " It shall be inquired into, my children, and 
 strict justice done," said the doge, preparing to de- 
 part. " Officers, give money for masses, that the soul 
 of the unhappj' man be not the sufferer. Reverend 
 Carmelite, I commend the body to thy care, and 
 thou canst do no better service than to pass the 
 night in prayer, by its side." 
 
 A thousand caps were waved in commendation 
 of this gracious command, and the whole throng 
 stood in silent respect, as the prince, followed by his 
 
348 THE BRAVO. 
 
 retinue, retired as he ha4 aj^oaefced, tbroB^ the 
 Ippg, vaulted, gaUery above- 
 
 A secret order of the Inquisition prevented the 
 ?tpp,earance of the Dalmatians. 
 
 A few minutes later and all wras prepared. A 
 Uiier and canopy were brought o«t of the adjoining 
 ca.th^alj and the corpse was placed .upon the 
 former. Father Anselmo then headed the proqesr 
 sLpu^ vehioh passed throMgh the principal g4*& p| the 
 palace into the square, ©banting the usDsl ^i^visje. 
 The Pi{^z?etta and the piazza were still empty. 
 Here aad these* indeed, a curious face, betengjag to 
 some agent of the poUce, or to some observer more 
 firm^ than Qommon,, lpi>i(ed out Itom beneath the 
 gtrche* of the porti?iijes ©n the naov^aaests af the 
 mob, though HQiie: ventured to comfe within i^ m- 
 fluence. 
 
 Rut the fish^eftojn were m longer bent on vio- 
 lence. With th^i 6clde5^e§?> of men httle influenced 
 by reflection, $nd su^jeett. to suddieni and violent 
 emotions, a tcflftpejiftnifint which, the effect of a 
 selfish systeni, is ootnmjQnly twtwed ioto: the rea- 
 son why it should never be improved, they had 
 abandoned all idea of re^venge on ^e ag«>ats of the 
 police,, and had turned their fought?. t& the v)Ai> 
 gious services, whjgh,. being cqeoimaBded \(y tfte 
 prince himself, were^ so flattering tOi their clsgs. 
 
 It is true that a few of the sterner natmseSj, anaong 
 them,, cninglpd menaces against the Bravo^ with 
 their prayers for the de»d, but these had no other 
 effect on the matter in hand, than, is commonly pico- 
 dHi?ed by the by^players oa the, principal action of 
 
 fte pi^ce.. 
 
 Tha great portal of the venerable cBiurch was 
 thrown open, and the solemn chant was: heard issu- 
 ing, in responses^ from among the quaint colujnns 
 and vaulted roof^ within. Thft body of the lowl- 
 and sacrificed Antonio was borne beneath that ascb 
 
THE BRAVO. MO 
 
 which sustains the precious relics 9i Greciaa art, 
 and deposited in the nave. Candles glimmered be- 
 fore the altar and around the ghastly person of the 
 dead, throughout the night; and the cathedral of 
 St. Mark was pregnant with all the imposing cere- 
 monials of the Catholic ritual, until the day once 
 more a{)peared. 
 
 Priest succeeded priest, in ^epeatieg the masses, 
 while the attentive throng listened, as if each of its 
 members fisU that his. own honor and importance 
 were elevated by this concession to one of their 
 nmpber. In the square the maskers graduatty re- 
 appeared, though the alarm had beeo too sudden 
 and violent, to admit a speedy return to the* levity 
 which ordinarily was witnessed in that spot, be- 
 tween the setting and the rising of the sun. 
 
 OHAPTEE XXIV. 
 
 Tis of a lady in her earliest yoiith, 
 Tlia reiy last of that illastrious race. 
 
 Regen. 
 
 When the fishermen landed on the quay, they ae- 
 serted the gondola of the state to a man. Donna 
 Vloletta ana her governess heard the tumultuous 
 departure of their singular captors witik alarm, for 
 they were nearly in entire ignorance of Uie motive 
 which had deprived them of the protection of father 
 Anselmo, and which had so unexpectedly mad& 
 them actors in the extraordinary scene. The 
 monk had simply explained that hk offices were 
 required in behalf of the dead, but the apprehen 
 sion of exciting unnecessary terror prevented him 
 from adding that they were in the power of a mob 
 2GF 
 
350 THE BRAVO. 
 
 Donna Florinda, however, had ascertained suffi- 
 cient, by looking from the windows of the canopy 
 and from the cries of those around her, to get a 
 glimmering of the truth. Under the circumstances, 
 she saw that the most prudent course was to keep 
 themselves as much as possible from observation. 
 But when the profound stillness that succeeded the 
 landing of the rioters announced that they were 
 alone, both she and her charge had an intuitive per- 
 ception of the favorable chance, which fortune had 
 so strangely thrown in their way. 
 
 "They are gone!" whisporod Donna Florinda, 
 holding her breath in attention, as soon as she had 
 spoken. 
 
 " And the police will be soon here to seek us !" 
 
 No further explanation passed, for Venice was a 
 town in which even the young and innocent were 
 taught caution. Donna Florinda stole another look 
 without. 
 
 " They have disappeared, Heaven knows where ! 
 Let us go!" 
 
 In an instant the trembling fugitives were on the 
 quay. The Piazzetta was without a human form, 
 except their own. A low, murmuring, sound arose 
 from the court palace, which resembled the hum of 
 a disturbed hive ; but nothing was distinct or intel- 
 ligible. 
 
 " There is violence meditated," again whispered 
 the governess ; " would to God that father Anselmo 
 were here!" 
 
 A shuffling footstep caught their ears, and both 
 turned towards a boy, in the dress of one of the 
 Lagunes, who approached from the direction of the- 
 Broglio. 
 
 ". A reverend Carmelite bid me give you this,' 
 said thi youth, stealing a glance behind him, like 
 one who dreaded detection. Then putting a small 
 piece ol' paper in the hand of Donna Florinda. he 
 
TriK liRAVij. "ril 
 
 turned his own swarthy palm, in whirh a sma. 
 silver coin glittered, to the moon, and vanished. 
 
 By the aid of the same light the governess suc- 
 ceeded in tracing pencil-marks, in a hano that had 
 been well known to her younger days. 
 
 " Save thyself, Florinda — There is not an instan' 
 to lose. Avoid public places, and seek a shelter 
 quickly." 
 
 "But whither?" asked the bewildered woman, 
 when she had read aloud the scroll. 
 
 "Anywhere but here," rejoined Donna Violetta; 
 " follow me." 
 
 Nature frequently more than supplies the advan 
 tages of training and experience, oy her own gifta 
 Had Donna Florinda been possessed of the natural 
 decision and firmness of her pupil, she would not no w 
 have been existing in the isolated condition which is 
 so little congenial to female habits, nor would father 
 Anselmo have been a monk. Both had sacrificed 
 inclination to what they considered to be duty, and if 
 the ungenial life of the governess was owing to the 
 tranquil course of her ordinary feelings, it is proba- 
 ble that its impunity was to be ascribed to the same 
 respectable cause. Not so with Violetta. She was 
 ever more ready to act than to reflect, and though, 
 in general, the advantage might possibly be with 
 those of a more regulated temperament, there are 
 occasions that form exceptions to the rule. The 
 present moment ■vCas one of those turns in the 
 chances of life, when it is always better to do any 
 thing than to do nothing. 
 
 Donna Violetta had scarcely spoken, Iwfore her 
 person was shadowed beneatn the arches of the 
 Broglio. Her governess clung to her side, more in 
 alfection than in compliance with the warning of the 
 monk, or with the dictates of her own reason. A 
 .'ague and romantic intention of throwing herself at 
 he feet of the doge, who was a collateral descend- 
 
352 THE BRAVO. 
 
 ant of her own ancient house, had flashed acrtisSs, 
 the mind of the youthful bride, when she first fled ; 
 out no sooner had they reached the palace, th^n a 
 cry from the court acquainted them with its situa- 
 tion, and consequently with the impossibility of pen- 
 etrating to the interior. 
 
 " Let us retire, by the streets^ to thy dwelling, my 
 child," said Donna Florinda; drawing her mantle 
 about he* in womanly d%niity. "Nottewifl ofiend 
 females of our condition ; even the s€»ftte must, in 
 tfae end, respect our sex." 
 
 " This from thee, Florinda ! — Thou, who hast so 
 often trembled for their anger \ But gO", M' thou wilt — 
 I am no -longer the seiiate's.^-Pon CaaasKo Monforte 
 has my duty." 
 
 Donna Florii^a had no inteitti«m of disputing this 
 point, and as the moment had now arrived when the 
 most energetic, was^ Kkdy to lead, she quietly sub- 
 mitted herself to the superior de<^on of her pupil. 
 The latter took the way along the portico, keeping 
 always within its shadows. In^ passing the gateway, 
 which opened towards the sea, the fugitives had a 
 gUmpse of what was passing io the court. The 
 sight fipick^ied their steps, and they now flew, rather 
 thain ran, along the arched passage. In a minute 
 they were on the bridge, which crosses the canal of 
 St. Mark, still flying with all their force. A few 
 mariners were looking' from their feluccas- and gaz- 
 ing in curiosity, but the sight of t^o terrifled females, 
 seeking refuge from ai mob, had nothing in itself 
 likely to attract notice. 
 
 At this moment, a dairk mass of human bodies 
 appeared advancing along the quay in the opposite 
 direction. Arms glittered in tlie moon-beams, an^ 
 the measured tread of trained men became audible, 
 The Dalmatians were moviug d<)Wn from the arsenal 
 in a body. Advance and retreat now seemed equally 
 Impossible tc tte breathless fu^tives. As decision 
 
THE BRAVO. 353 
 
 and self-possession are very different qualities, Donna 
 Violetta did not understand so readily as the cir- 
 cumstances required, that it was more than probable 
 the hirelings of the republic would consider the flight 
 perfectly natural, as it had appeared to the curious 
 gazers of the port. 
 
 Terror made them blind, and as shelter was now 
 the sole object of the fugitives, they would probably 
 have sought it in the chamber of doom, itself, had 
 there been an opportunity. As it was, they turned 
 and entered the first, and indeed the only, gate which 
 offered. They were met by a girl, whose anxious 
 face betrayed that singular compound of self-devotion 
 and terror, which prooably has its rise in the instinct 
 of feminine sympathies. 
 
 " Here is safety, noble ladies," said the youthful 
 Venetian, in the soft accent of her native islands ; 
 " none will dare do you harm within these walls." 
 
 "Into whose palace have I entered 1" demanded 
 the half-breathless Violetta. "If its owner has a 
 name in Venice, he will not refuse hospitality to a 
 daughter of Tiepolo." 
 
 " Signora, you are welcome," returned the gentle 
 girl, curtsying low, and still leading the way deeper 
 within the vast edifice. " You bear the name of an 
 illustrious house!" 
 
 " There are few in the republic of note, from 
 whom I may not claim, either the kindness of ancient 
 and near services, or that of kindred. Dost thou 
 serve a noble master?" 
 
 " The first in Venice, lady." 
 
 " Name him, that we may demand his hospitality 
 as befits us." 
 
 " Saint Mark." 
 
 Donna Violetta and her governess stopped short. 
 
 " Have we unconsciously entered a portal of the 
 palace?" 
 
 " That were impossible, lady, since the canal lies 
 203 
 
354 THE BRAVO. 
 
 between you and the residence of the doge. Still is 
 St. Mark master here. I hope you wiH not esteem 
 your safety less, because it has been obtained in 
 the. public prison, and by the aid of it« keeper's 
 daughter." 
 
 The moment for headlong decisiicm was passed, 
 and that c^ reflectian had returned. 
 
 "How art thoia called, child?" asked Doiwia Flo- 
 rinda, moving ahead of her pupil and taking the 
 discourse up, where in wonder the otfier had per- 
 mitted it to pause. " We are truly grateful for the 
 readiness with which thou threw open the gate for 
 our admission, ia a moment of such alarm-^How 
 art thou called?" ' 
 
 " Grelsomina," answered the modest girl. " 1 am 
 the keeper's only child— and when I saw ladies of 
 your honorable condition, fleeing on the quay, with 
 the Dalmatians marching on one side, and a finob 
 shouting on the other, I bethought me that even a 
 prison might be welcome." 
 
 " Thy goodness of heart did not mislead thee." 
 
 " Had I known it was a lady of the Tiepolo, 1 
 should have been even more ready; for there are 
 few of that great name now left to do us honor." 
 
 Violetta curtsied to the complimenty but she 
 seemed uneasy that haste and pride of rank had led 
 her, so indiscreetly, to betray herself. 
 
 " Canst thou not lead us to some place less public r' 
 she asked, observing that her conductor had stopped 
 in a public corridor to make this explanation. 
 
 " Here you will be retired as in your own palaces, 
 great ladies ;" answered Gelsomina, turning into a 
 private passage, and leading the way towards tfee 
 rooms of her family, from a window of Which she 
 had first witnessed the embarrassBient of her guests. 
 ' None enter here, without cause, but my father and 
 myself; and my father is much occupied with his 
 eliarge." 
 
TOE BRAVO. 355 
 
 ** Hast thou no domestic ?" 
 
 " None, lady. A prison-keeper's daughtei should 
 not be too proud to serve herself." 
 
 " Thou sayest well. One of thy discretion, good 
 Gelsomina, must know it is not seemly for iemales 
 of condition to be thrown within walls like these, 
 even hy acddent, and thou wilt do us much favor, 
 by takmg more than common means, to be certain 
 that we are unseen. We give thee much trouble, 
 but it shall not go unrequited. Here is gold." 
 
 Gelsomina did not answer, but as she stood with 
 her eyes cast to the floor, the color stole to her 
 checks, until her usually bloodless face was in a soft 
 glow. 
 
 " Nay, I have mistaken thy character !" said Don- 
 na Florinda, secreting the sequins, and taking the 
 unre^sting hand of the silent girl. " If I aave 
 pained thee, by my indiscretion, attribute the offer 
 to our dread of the disgrace of being seen in this 
 place." 
 
 The glow deepened, and the lips of the girl 
 quivered. 
 
 " Is it then a disgrace to be hinooently within t^ese 
 walls, lady T" she asked, still with an averted eye. 
 " I have long suspected this, but none has ever before 
 said it, in my heaiing 1" 
 
 " Holy Maria pardon me ! If I have uttered a 
 syllable to pain thee, excellent girl, it has been un 
 wittingly and without intention !" 
 
 "We are poor, lady, and the needy must submit 
 to do that which their wishes might lead them to 
 avoid. I uaderstand your feelings, and will make 
 sure of your being secret, and Blessed Maria will 
 pardon a greater sin, than any you have committed 
 here." 
 
 While the ladies were wondering, at witoessing 
 such proofs of delicacy and feeling in so singular a 
 place, the girl withdrew. 
 23 
 
356 THE BRAVO. 
 
 " I had not expected this in a prison !" exclaimed 
 Violetta. ' 
 
 " As all is not noble, or just, in a palace, neither 
 is all to be condemned unheard, that we find in a 
 prison. But this is, in sooth, an extraordinary girl 
 for her condition, and we are indebted to blessed 
 St. Theodore, (crossing herself,) for putting her in 
 our way." 
 
 " Can we do better than by making her a confidant 
 and a friend!" 
 
 The governess was older, and less disposed than 
 her pupil, to confide in appearances. But the more 
 ardent mind and superior rank of the latter had 
 given her an influence, that the former did not al-- 
 ways successfully resist. Gelsomina returned be- 
 fore there was time to discuss the prudence of what 
 Violetta had proposed. 
 
 " Thou hast a father, Gelsomina?" asked the Vc 
 netian heiress, taking the hand of the gentle girl, ns 
 she put her question. 
 
 " Holy Maria be praised ! — I have still that hap- 
 piness." 
 
 " It is a happiness — for surely a father would not 
 have the heart to sell his own child to ambition and 
 mercenary hopes ! And thy mother V 
 
 " Has long been bed-ridden, lady. I believe we 
 should not have been herie, but we have no other 
 place so suitable for her sufferings, as this jail." 
 
 " Gelsomina, thou art happier than I, even in thy 
 prison. I am fatherless — ^motherless — I could almosi 
 say, friendless." 
 
 " And this from a lady of the Tiepolo !" 
 
 " All is not as it seems in this evil world, kind 
 Gelsomina. We have had many doges, but we 
 have had much suffering. Thou mayest have heard 
 that the house of which I come is reduced to a sin- 
 gle, youthful girl like thyself, who has been left in 
 the senate's charge?" 
 
THE BRAVO 357 
 
 " Thev speak little of these matters, lady, in Ven- 
 ice ; and, of all here, none go so seldom into tlie 
 square as L Still have I heard of the beauty and 
 riches of Donna Violetta. The last I hope is true ; 
 the first I now see is so." 
 
 The daughter of Tiepolo colored, in turn, but it 
 was not in resentment. 
 
 " They have spoken in too much kindness for an 
 orphan," she answered ; " though that fatal wealth 
 is perhaps not over-estimated. Thou knowest that 
 the state charges itself with the care and establish- 
 ment of all noble females, whom Providence has 
 left fatherless?" • 
 
 « Lady, I did not. It is kind of St. Mark to do it !" 
 
 " Thou wilt think differently, anon. Thou art 
 young, Gelsomina, and hast passed tliy time in pri- 
 vacy r" 
 
 " True lady. It is seldom I go farther than my 
 mother's room, or the cell of some suffering pris- 
 oner." 
 
 Violetta looked towards her governess, with an 
 expression which seemed to say, that she anticipated 
 her appeal would be made in vain, to one so little 
 exposed to the feelings of the world. 
 
 " Thou wilt not understand then, that a noble fe- 
 male may have little inclination to comply with all 
 the senate's wishes, in disposing of her duties and 
 affections?" 
 
 Gelsomina gazed at the fair speaker, but it was 
 evident that she did not clearly comprehend the 
 question. Again Violetta looked at the governess 
 as if asking aid. 
 
 " The duties of our sex are often painful," said 
 Donna Florinda, "understanding the appeal with 
 female instinct Our attachments may not always 
 •bllow the wishes of our friends. We may not 
 choose, but we cannot always obey." 
 
 *' I have heard that noble ladies are not suffered to 
 
358 THE BRAYO. 
 
 gee those to whonjjthay are to be weiJded, Signora, 
 if that is what your eccellenza Hjeaipg, andi, to me, 
 the custom has always spemed unjnst, if not CFifel." 
 
 "And are femates of thy class permitted to make 
 friends among those who may beco>me dearer at 
 any other day?" asked Yioletta. 
 
 " Lady, we have that much, freedom even in ifep 
 prisons." 
 
 " Then art thou happier thao: those of the palaces ! 
 I will trust thee, generous girl, for thou canst iK>t< 
 be uuafaithfHl, ta the weakness and wrongs of thy 
 sex." 
 
 Gelsomina raised a hand, as if to stop th» impetu- 
 ous coi^ence of her guest, and then sh^ ^tened 
 intently. 
 
 " Few enter, h©Ee»" she sajd ;, " but there ^jBa 
 many ways of learning secrets within these walls 
 which are still unknown to me- Come deeper into 
 the rooms, noble ladies, £»r here is a place- that I 
 have reason to think is safe, even from listeners." 
 
 The keeper's, daughter led the way into the little 
 room,, m which she was accustomed tOr converse 
 with Jacofto. 
 
 " You were saLying, lady,, that I had a feelkig, foH? 
 the wieakness; and helplessness of our sex, a«d 
 surely youi did me justice.!' 
 
 Violetta had leisure to reflect an instajstf, in pass- 
 ing from one room to the other, and she beg^n^heii 
 communications, with, more reserve. But. the sensi- 
 tive interest that a beisng of the ggnfle nattuire and 
 secluded habits of Gelsomina. took iii.hOT narrati.ve, 
 won upon her own natural frankntess,. and» in a 
 manner nearly imperceptible to herself, she made 
 the keeper's, daughter mistress of most of thecircum 
 Ranees under whi£.h she hi^reatered the prisotv 
 
 The- cheek, of Gelsomina became colorless a» 
 she listened, and when Donna Violetta. ceased> 
 e,vej;y limh of her sligjit frame treiwbled with iftterest 
 
^The lenate is » fearful power to resist!" she 
 ' said, speaking so low aa oartHy to be audible. 
 ••Have you reflected, lady, on the chances of what 
 ywuAol" 
 
 " ]£ I have noty k ia now too late to chsage my 
 intentioos. I am the wife of the' Duke of Sant' 
 A^ta, and can never wed another." 
 
 •< Gesu Irr-Tlria is ticne.— And yet, methoiks, I 
 would choose to die a nun rather tiran oflend the 
 council!" ^ 
 
 " Thou knowest not, good eirl, to what eourage 
 the heavt oi even a young -mSB. is equaL'-<-Thou art 
 still bound tgr tfay felher, in the instructioD and 
 habits of childhood, but thou mayest live lo know 
 thst dl thy hopes will centre in another." 
 
 Gelsoimiin& ceased to tremble, and her mild eye 
 brightened. 
 
 *Th© council i* terrible," rfie answered, <* but it 
 Must be soore terrible to desert one to whom you 
 have vio!w«d duty and love at the altar !" 
 
 "Hast thioia.' the means of conciealiag us, kind 
 gaii," inteiniupted Donna Ekwiada, " and canst thou 
 when this tumult shall be quieted, in any mannet 
 help us to farther secrecy or flight V 
 
 "•Lady, I have nonei, Even the streets and 
 acjuares of Yenine are nearly strangecs' to me. San> 
 tissima Maria! what would I give to know tbe 
 vrays. of the towni as well as my eousini Annina, 
 who passes, at wiU, from her fetoHr's shop to the 
 Lido, and from St. Mark's to the Rialto, aa her 
 l^easure suits. I wiU^ send for my cousin^ who will] 
 CQunsdi us in this fearftil strait ! " 
 
 " Thy cousin l^Hast tiuiMil a consikii named An>- 
 nina?" 
 
 " L^dy,. Annjna. My Bswitthisr'a sister's child." 
 
 ** The daughter ei a wine-selleE called Tomaso. 
 Ttati?" 
 
 " Do the uoUc damea oS tiie. city tiaJic .such heed 
 
360 . THE BRAVO. 
 
 of their inferiors ! — This will charm my cousin, for 
 she has great desires to be noted by the great" 
 
 " And does thy cousin come hither V 
 
 " Rarely, lady — We are not of much intimacy 
 I suppose Annina finds a girl, simple and uninstruct- 
 ed as I, unworthy of her company But she will 
 not refuse to aid us, in a danger like this. I know 
 she little loves the republic, for we have had words 
 on its acts, and my cousin has been bolder ol 
 speech about them, than befits one of her years, in 
 this prisoni" 
 
 " Gelsomina, thy cousin is a secret agent of the 
 pohce, and unworthy of thy confidence — " 
 
 "Lady!" 
 
 " I do not speak without reason. Trust me, she 
 is employed in duties that are unbecoming her sex, 
 and unworthy of thy confidence." 
 
 " Noble dames, I will not say any thing to do dis- 
 pleasure to your high rank and present distress, but 
 you should not urge me to think thus of my mo- 
 ther's niece. You have been unhappy, and you 
 may have cause to dishke the republic, and you are 
 safe here — but I do not desire to hear Annina cen- 
 sured." 
 
 Both Donna Florinda and her less experienced, 
 puprl knew enough of human nature, to consider 
 this generous incredulity as a favorable sign of the 
 integrity of her who manifested it, and they wisely 
 contented themselves with stipulating that Annina 
 should, on no account, be made acquainted with 
 their situation. After this understanding, the three 
 discussed, more leisurely, the prospect of the fugi- 
 tives being able to quit the place, when ready, with 
 out detection. 
 
 At the suggestion of the governess, a servitor of 
 the prison was sent out by Gelsomina, to observe 
 the state of the square. He was particularly 
 aharged, though in a manner to avoid suspicion, to 
 
THE BRAVO. 391 
 
 ceaccb for a Carmelite of , the order of the bare- 
 footed friars. On hia return, the menial reported 
 that the mob had quitted the court of the palace, 
 and was gone to the cathedral, with the body of 
 the fisherman who ha4 so unexpectedly gained the 
 prize in the regatta of the preceding day. 
 
 "Repeat your aves and go to sleep, Bella Gelso- 
 mina," concluded the sub-keeper, " for the fishermen 
 have left off shouting to say their prayers. Per 
 Diana! The bare-hsaded and bare-legged rascals 
 are as impudent as if St. Mark were their inherit- 
 ance! The noble patricians should give them a 
 lesson it) modesty, oy sending every tenth knave 
 among them to the galleys. Miscreants ! to disturb 
 the quiet of an orderly town with their Vulgar com- 
 plaints!" 
 
 " But thou hast said nothing of the firiar ; is he 
 with the rioters?" 
 
 " There is a Carmelite at the altar — but my blood 
 boiled at seeing such vagabonds disturb the peace 
 of respectable persons, and I took little note of his 
 air or years." 
 
 " Then thou failedst to do the errand on which I 
 sent thee. It is now too late to repair thy fault 
 Thou canst return to thy charge." 
 
 "A million pardons, Belllssima Gelsomina, but in- 
 dignation is the uppermost feeling, when one in office 
 sees his rights attacked by the multitude. Send me 
 to Corfu, or to Candia, if you please, and I will bring 
 back the color of every stone in their prisons, but 
 do not send me among rebels. My gorge rises at 
 the sight of villany!" 
 
 As the keeper's daughter vdthdrew, while her 
 father's assistant was making this protestation of 
 loyalty, the latter was compelled to give vent to the 
 rest of bis indignation in a soliloquy. 
 
 One of the tendencies of oppression Is to create 
 a scale o*" tyranny,descending firom those who rule 
 3H 
 
362 THE BRAVO. 
 
 a state, to those who domineer over a single indi- 
 vidual. He,, who has been much accustomed to 
 view men, need not be told that none are so arrogaWf 
 with' their inferiors, as those who are oppressed by 
 their superiors ; for poor human nature has a secret 
 longing to revenge itself on the weak for all the in- 
 juries it receives from the strong. Qn the other 
 hand, no class is so willing to render that deference 
 when unexacted, which is the proper meed of virtue, 
 and experience, and intelligence, as he who knows 
 that he is fortified on every side against innovations 
 on his natural rights. Thus it is, that there is more 
 security against popular violence and popular insults 
 in these free states, than in any other country on 
 eaith', for there is scarcely a citizen so debased as 
 not to feel that, in assuming the appearance of a wish 
 to revenge the chances of fortune, he is making an 
 undue admission of inferiority. 
 
 Though the torrent may be pent and dammed by 
 art, it is with the constant hazard of breaking down 
 the unnatural barriers ; but left to its own course, it 
 will become the tranquil and the deep stream, until 
 it finally throws off its superfluous waters into the 
 common receptacle of the ocean. 
 
 When Gelsomina returned to her visitors, it vpas 
 with a report favorable to their tranquillity. The 
 riot in the court of the palace, and'the movement of 
 tJie DaJmatians, had drawn all eyes in another direc- 
 tion ; and although some errant gaze might have 
 witnessed their entrance into the gate of the prison, 
 it was so natural a circumstance, that no one would 
 suspect females of their appearance of remaining 
 there an instant longer than was necessary. The 
 momentary absence of the few .servants of the pris- 
 on, who took little heed of those who entered the 
 open parts of the building, and who had been drawn 
 away by curiosity, completed their security. The 
 humble room they were in was exclusively devoted 
 
THE BRAVO. 368 
 
 to the use df their gentle protector, 'and chere was 
 scarcely a possibility of interruption, until the coun- 
 cil had obtained the leisure and the means of making 
 use of those terrible means, which rarely left anv 
 thing it wished to know conceated. 
 
 With this explanation Donna Violetta and her 
 companion were greatly satisfied. It left them 
 leisure to devise means for their flight, and kindled 
 a hope, in the former, of being speedily restored to 
 Don Camillo. Still there existed the cruel embar- 
 rassment of not possessing the nteans of acquainting 
 the latter with ineir situation. As the tumult ceased, 
 they resolved to seek a boat, fevored by such dis- 
 guises as the means of Gelsomina could supply^ and 
 to row to his palace ; but reflection convinced DonQa 
 Florinda of the danger of such a step, since the 
 Neapolitan was known to be surrounded by the 
 agents of the police. Accident, which is more efiec- 
 tual than stratagem in defeating intrigues, had 
 thrown them into a place of momentary security, 
 and it would be to lose the vantage-ground of their 
 situation to cast themselves, without the utmost 
 caution, into the hazards of the public canals. 
 
 At length the governess bethought her of turning 
 the services of the gentle creature, who had already 
 shown so much sympathy in their behalf, to account. 
 During the rervelations of her pupil, the feminine 
 instinct of Donna Florinda had enabled her to dis- 
 cover the secret springs which moved the unprac- 
 tised feelings of their auditor. Grelsomina had listen- 
 ed to the manner in which Don Camillo had thrdwn 
 nimself into the caiial to save the life of Violetta, 
 with breathless admiration ; her countenance was a 
 pure reflection of her thoughts, when the daughter 
 of Tiepolo spoke of the risks he had run to ^ain her 
 love, and woman glowed in every lineament of her 
 mild face, when the youthful bride touched on the 
 nature of the engrossing tie which had united them. 
 
364 THE BRAVOi 
 
 and which was far too holy to be severed by &o 
 senate's policy. 
 
 " If we had the means of getting our situa.tion 
 to the ears of Don Camillo)" said the governess, " aH 
 might yet be saved;) else will this happy refuge in 
 the prison avail us nothing." 
 
 " Is the cavalier of too stout a heart to shrink) be- 
 fore those up above ?" demanded Gelsonuaa. ' , , 
 
 "He would summon the people of his confidence 
 and ere the dawd of day we might still be beyond 
 their power. Those calculating senators will dfsai 
 with the Vows oi my pupil, as if they were childish 
 oaths, and set the anger of the Holy See itself at 
 dbfiance, when there is question of their interest." 
 
 " But the sacrament of marriage is not of man ; 
 that, at least, they will respect !" 
 
 " Believe it not There is no obligation so solemn 
 as to be respected^ when their policy is concerned. 
 What are the wi^ies of a girl, or what the, happi- 
 ness of a solitary and helpless female, to their for- 
 tunes? That my charge is young, is, a reason why 
 their wisdom should interfere, though it is none to 
 touch their hearts with the reflection that the misery 
 to which they would condemn her, is to last the 
 longer. They take no account of the solemn obli- 
 gations of gratitude t the ties of affection are so 
 many means of working upon the fears of those 
 they rule, but none for forbearance : and they laugh 
 at the devotednessriof woman's love, as a folly to 
 amuse their leisure, or to take off the edge of disap- 
 pointment in graver concerns." 
 
 " Can any thing! be more grave than wedlock, 
 lady?" 
 
 " To them it is important, as it furnishes the 
 means of perpetuating their honors and their proud 
 names. Beyond this, the councils look little at do- 
 mestic interests." 
 
 " Theys are fathers and husbandsi!?' 
 
rm. BRAv©. 
 
 "True, fjf to be legally the first, Ihey tnust be- 
 come the last. Marriage to them is not a tie of 
 sacred and dear affinity, but the means of increas- 
 ing their riches tad of sustaining their names ;" 
 continued the governess, watching the effect of her 
 Words on the countenance of the guileless girl. 
 "They call inai¥idges of affection ehiktren's games, 
 land they ^ietH with the -wi^s of theSi own daugh- 
 <ters, as they would traffic with their eoimnodittes 
 of commerce. When a state sets up an idol of 
 gold as its god, few will refuse to sacrifice at its 
 altar!" 
 
 " I would I might serve the noble Doma Vio- 
 letta!" 
 
 " Thou art too young, good Gefspmina, and I fear 
 too little practised in the cunning of Venice." 
 
 " Doubt me not, lady; for I can do my 4uty like 
 another, in a good cause." 
 
 " If it were possible to convey to Don Camillo 
 Monforte a kn<6wledge of our situaVion— but thou art 
 too inexperienced ftw the service'!" 
 
 " Believe it not, Signora," interrupted the generous 
 Gelsomina, whose pride began to stimulate her natu- 
 ral syhipathies with one so near iter own age, and 
 one too, like herself, subject to that passion which 
 engrosses a female heart. " I may be aptei than 
 my appearance would give reason to think." 
 
 " I will trust thee, kind girl, and if the Sainted 
 Virgin protects us, thy fortunes shall not be for- 
 gotten!" 
 
 The pious Gelsomina crossed herself, and, first 
 acquainting her companions with her intentions, she 
 went within to prepare herself, while Donna Florin- 
 da penned a note, in terms so guarded as to defy 
 Jetection in the event of accident, but which might 
 suffice to let the lord of St. Agata understand their 
 present situation. 
 
 Ip a few minutes the keeper*s dai^hter reappear 
 aH2 
 
S66 THE BRAVO. 
 
 ed. Her ottiinary attire, which was that , of a 
 modest Venetian maiden of humble condition, need- 
 ed no concealment.; and the mask, an article of 
 dress which none .in tha^t city were without, effec- 
 tually disguised her features. She then received the 
 note, wth the name of the street, and tiie palace 
 she was -to seek, a description of the person of , the 
 Neapplitan, with often-repeated cautions to be wai;^ 
 and departed. . ? 
 
 . CHAPTER XXV. 
 
 " Which is the wiser here ? — Justice or iniquity ?" 
 
 Measure for Measure, 
 
 I \ 
 
 ly the constant struggle between the innocent aiid 
 the artful, the latter have the adviantage, so long as 
 they confine themselves to familiar interests. But 
 the moment the former conquer their disgust for the 
 study of vice, apd throw themselves upon the pro- 
 tection of their own high principles, they are far 
 more effectually concealed from the calculations of 
 their adversaries, than if they practised the most 
 refined of their subtle expedients. Nature has given 
 to every man enough of frailty to enable him to es- 
 timate the workings of selfishness and fraud, but her 
 truly privileged are those who can shroud their mo- 
 tives and intentions in a degree of justice and dis- 
 interestedness, which surpass the calculations of the 
 designing. Millions may bow to the commands of 
 a conventional right, but few, indeed, are they who 
 know how to choose in novel and difficult cases. 
 There is often a mystery in virtue. While the cun^ 
 ning of vice is no more than a pitiful imitation of 
 
THE BRAVO. 9Vi 
 
 that art, which endeavors to cl(^e its'workftigs in 
 the thin veil of deception, the other, in some degree, 
 resembles the sublimity of infallible truth. 
 
 Thus men, too much practised in the interests of 
 life, constantly overreach themselves, when brought 
 in contact with the simple and intelligent ; and the 
 experience of every day proves, that, as there is no 
 fame permanent which is not founded on virtue, so 
 there is no policy secure which is not bottomed on 
 the good of the whole. Vulgar minds may control 
 the concerns of a community, so long as they are 
 limited to vulgar views; but woe to the people 
 who confide, on great emergencies, in any but the 
 honest, the noble, the wise, and the philanthropic ; 
 for there is no security for success when the mean- 
 ly artful control the occasional knd providential 
 events which Regenerate a nation. More than half 
 . the misery which has defeated, as well as disgraced, 
 civilization, proceeds from neglecting to use those 
 great men that are always created by great occa- 
 sions.' 
 
 Treating^, as we are^ of the vices of the Venetian 
 system, our pen has run truant with its subject, 
 since the application of the mbral must be made on 
 the familiar scale suited to the incidents of our story. 
 It has already been seen that Gelsomina was in- 
 trusted with certain important keys of the prison. 
 For this trust there had been sufficient motive with 
 the wily -guardians of the jail, who had made their 
 calculations on her serving their partioiilar orders, 
 without ever suspecting that she was capable of so 
 far listening to the promptings of a generous tem- 
 per, as might induce ner to use them in any manner 
 prejudicial to their own views. The service to 
 which they were now to be applied, proved that the 
 keepers, one of which was her own father, had not 
 fully known how to estimate the powers of the inno- 
 rent and simple. 
 
368 THE BRAVO. 
 
 Provided with the keys in question, <3dsomina 
 took a lamp, and passed upward from the mezzinino 
 in which ^e dwelt, to the first floor of the edifice, 
 instead of descending to its court. Door was open- 
 ed after door, and many a gloomy corridor was 
 passed by the gentle girl, with the confidence of one 
 who knew her jnolive to be good. She soon cross- 
 ed the Bridge of Sighs, fearless of interruption in that 
 unfrequented gallery, and entered the palace. Here 
 she made her way to a door that opened on the 
 common and public vomitories of the structure 
 Moving with sufficient eare to makfe inpunity from 
 detection sure, she extinguished the light, and ap- 
 plied the key. At the next instant she was on tlie 
 vast and gloomy stair-way. It required but a mo- 
 ment to descend it, and to reach the covered gallery 
 wh ch surrounded the court. A halberdier was 
 within a few feet of her. He looked at the unknown 
 female with interest ; but as it was not his business 
 to question those who issued from the building, no- 
 thing was said. Gelsomina walked on. A hSf-re- 
 penting, but vindictive being, was dropping an ac- 
 cusation in the lion's mouth. Gelsomina stopped 
 involuntarily, until the secret accuser had done his 
 (reacherous work and departed. Then, when she 
 was about to proceed, she saw that the halberdier, 
 at the head of the Giant's stairway, was smiling at 
 her indecision, like one accustomed to such scenes. 
 
 "Is there danger in quitting the pa|ace'f" she 
 asked of the rough mountaineer. 
 
 " Coi-po di Bacco ! There might have been, an 
 hour since, Bella Donna ; but the rioters are muz- 
 zled, and at their prayers ! " 
 
 Gelsomina hesitated no longer. She descended 
 the well-known fligh% down which the head of Fa- 
 liero had rolled, and was soon beneath the arch of 
 the gate. Here the timid and unpractised girl again 
 stoppedi for she coujd not venture into the square 
 
THE BRAVO. 369 
 
 without assuring herself, like a deer about to quit its 
 cover, of the tranquillity of the place, into which she 
 was to enter. 
 
 The agents of the police had been too much 
 alarmed by the rising of the fishermen, not to call 
 their usual ingenuity and finesse into play, the mo- 
 ment the disturbance was appeased. Money had 
 been given to the mountebanks and ballad-singers to 
 induce them to reappear, and groups of hirelings, 
 ttome in masks and. others without concealmen|, 
 were ostentatiously assembled in different parts of 
 the piazza. In short, those usual expedients were 
 resorted to, which are constantly used to restore the 
 confidence of a people, in those countries in which 
 civilization is so new, that they are not yet consid- 
 ered sufficiently advanced to be the guardians of 
 their own security. There are few artifices so shal- 
 low that many will not be their dupes. The idler, the 
 curious, the really discontented, the factious, the de 
 signing, with a suitable mixture of the unthinking 
 and of those who only live for the pleasure of the 
 passing hour, a class not the least insignificant for 
 numbers, had lent themselves to the views of the po- 
 lice; and when G^elsomina was ready to enter the 
 Piazzetta, she found both the squares partially filled. 
 A few excited fishermen clustered about the doors 
 of the cathedral, like bees swarming before their 
 hive; but, on that side, there was no very visible 
 cause of alarm. Unaccustomed as she was to scenes 
 like that before her, the first glance' assured the gen- 
 tle girl of the real privacy which so singularly dis- 
 tinguishes the solitude of a crowd. G&thering her 
 simple mantle more closely about her form, and set- 
 tling her mask with care, she moved with a swift 
 step into the centre of the piazza. 
 
 We shall not detail the progress of our heroine 
 as, avoiding the commonplace gallantry that assail 
 ed and ofiended her ear, she went her way, on her 
 
870 THK BRyvvo. 
 
 errand of kindness. Young, active, £tnd impelled by 
 Jier intentions, the squa.re was soon passed, and she 
 reached the place of San Nico. Here was one of 
 the landings ©f the public gondolas. But, at the mo- 
 ment, ther^ was no boat in waiting, for curiosity or 
 fear had induced the men to quit their usual stand. 
 Gelsomina had ascended the bridge, and wm on the 
 crown of its arch, when a gondolier came sweep- 
 ing lazily in from the direction of the Grand Canal. 
 Her hesitation and doubting manner attracted his 
 attention, and the man made the customary sign, 
 which conveyed the offer of his services. As slie 
 was nearly a stranger to the streets of Venice, laby 
 rinths,' that offer greater embarrassment to the un- 
 initiated, than perhaps the passages of any other 
 town of its size, §he gladly availed herself of the 
 offer. To descend to the steps, to leap into the 
 boat, to utter the word " Rialto/' and to conceal 
 herself in the pavilion, was the business of a minute. 
 The boat was instantly in motion. 
 
 Gelsomina now believed herself secure of effect- 
 ing her purpose, since there was little to apprehend 
 from the knowledge, or the designs, of a common 
 boatman. He could not know her object, and it 
 was his interest to carry her, in safety, to the place 
 $he had commanded. But so important was suc- 
 cess,-that she could not feel secure of attaining it, 
 while it was still unaccomplished. She soon sum- 
 moned sufficient resolution to look out at the palaces 
 and boats they vvere passing, and she "felt the re- 
 freshing air of the canal revive her courage. Then 
 turning, with sensitive distrust, to examine the 
 countenance of the gondolier, she saw that his fea- 
 ttires were concealed beneath a mask that was so 
 we|l designed, as not to be perceptible to a casual 
 observer by moonlight. 
 
 Though it was conimon, on occasions, for the 
 servants of the great, it was not usual fof ^he public 
 
THE BRAVO. 371 
 
 gondoliers, to be disguised. The circumstance itself 
 was one justly to excite slight apprehension, though, 
 on second thoughts, Grelsomina saw no more in it, 
 than a return from some expedition of pleasure, or 
 some serenade, perhaps, in which the caution of a 
 lover had compelled his' followers to resort to this 
 species of concealment 
 
 " Shall I put you on the public quay, Signora," 
 demanded the gondolier, "or shall I see you to the 
 gate of your own palace?" 
 
 The heart of Gelsomina beat high. She liked the 
 tone of the voice, though it was necessarily smoth- 
 ered by the mask, but she was little accustomed to 
 act in the affairs of others, and less still in any of so 
 great interest, that the sounds caused her to tremUe 
 like one less worthily employed. 
 
 ** Dost thou know the palace of a certain Don 
 Camillo Monforte, a lord of Calabria, who dwells, 
 here, in Venice ?" she asked, after a moment's pause. 
 The gondolier sensibly betrayed surprise, by the 
 manner in which he started at the question. 
 
 " Would you be rowed there, lady?" 
 
 " If thou art certain of knowing the palazzo." 
 
 The water stirred, and the gontroia glided between 
 high walls. Gelsomina knew, by the sound, that they 
 were in one of the smaller canals, and she augured 
 well of the boatman's knowledge of the town. They 
 soon stopped by the side of a water-gate, and the 
 man appeared on the step, holding an arm, to aid 
 her in ascending^ after the manner of people of his 
 craft. Gelsomina bade him wait her return, and 
 proceeded. 
 
 There was a marked derangement in the house- 
 hold of Don Camillo, that one more practised than 
 our heroine would have noted. The servants seem- 
 ed undecided, in the manner of performing the most 
 ordinary duties; their looks wandered distrustfully 
 fitwn one to the other, and when their half-frightened 
 24 
 
372 THE BRAVO. 
 
 visitor entered the vestibule, though all arose, none 
 advanced to meet her. A female masked was not a 
 rare sight, in Venice, for few of that sex went upon 
 the canals, without using the customary means of 
 concealment ; but it Would, seem, by their hesitatii^ 
 manner, that the menials of Don Camillo did' not 
 view the entrance of her, who now appeared, with 
 the usual indifference. 
 
 " I am in the dwelling of the Duke of St. Agata, 
 a Signore of Calabria V demanded Gelsomina, who 
 saw the necessity of being firm. 
 
 " Signora, si— ^ — " 
 
 " Is your lord in the palace ?" 
 
 " Signora, he is-^and he is not What beautiful 
 lady shall I tell him does him this honor 1 " 
 
 " If he be not at home, it will not be necessary to 
 tell him any thing. If he is, I could wish to see him." 
 
 The domestics, of whom there were several, put 
 their heads together, and seemed to dispute on the 
 propriety of receiving the visit. At this instant, a 
 gondolier, in a flowered jacket, entered the vestibule. 
 Gelsomina took courage at his good-natured eye and 
 •rank manner. 
 
 " Do you serve Don Camillo Monforte?" she asked, 
 as he. parsed her, on his way to the canal. 
 
 "With the oar, Bellissima Donna," answered 
 Gino, touching his cap, though scarce l6oking aside 
 at the question. ' ' ' 
 
 "And could he be' told that a female wishes 
 earnestly to speak to him in private ? — A female." 
 
 ?' Santa Maria! Bella Donna, there is no end to 
 females who come on these errands, in Venice. You 
 might better pay a visit to the statue of San Teodore, 
 in the piazza, than see my master at this- tnoment; 
 the stone will give you the better reception." 
 
 " And this he commands you to tell all of my sex 
 who come!" 
 
 "Diavolo!— Lady, you are particular .a your 
 
THE BRAVO. 378 
 
 questions. Perhaps my master, might, on a strait, 
 receive one of the sex, I could name, but on the 
 honor of a gondolier he is not the most gallant 
 cavalier of Venice, just at this moment." 
 
 " If there is one to whom he would, pay this defer- 
 ence, you are bold for a servitor. How know you 
 ] am not that one?" 
 
 Gino started. He examined the figure of the ap- 
 plicant, andilifting hia cap he boiired. 
 
 " Lady, I do not know any thi^' about it," he saii 
 " you may be his Highness the Doge, or the ambas- 
 sador of thje en^peror. I pretend to know nothing 
 in Venice, of late " 
 
 The words of Gino were cut short by a tap on 
 the shoulder frpm the public gondolier, who had 
 hastily entered the vestibule. The maj) whispered 
 in the ear of Don Camillo's servitor. 
 
 " This is not a moment to refuse any," he said. — 
 ■' Let the stranger go up." 
 
 , Gino hesitated no longer With the decision of a 
 favored menial he pushed the groom of the cham- 
 bers aside, and offered to, conduct Gelsomina, him- 
 self, to the presence of his master. As they ascended 
 the stairs, three of the inferior servants disappeared. 
 
 The palace of Don Can^ilj|o, had an air of more 
 than Yfiiietiap gloom- T^^ rooms ,were dimly 
 lighted, many of the walls had been stripped of the 
 most precious of their, pictures, and, in other re- 
 spects a jealous eye mighit hayp detected evidence 
 of a secret intention, on the part of its owner, not 
 to make a permanent residence of the dwelling. 
 Hut tnese were particulars that Gelsomina did not 
 note, as s\\e followed G^no through the apactments, 
 into the more private parts of the building. Here 
 the gondolier unlocked a door, and regarding his 
 companion with an air, half-doubting, half-respect- 
 ful, he made a sign for her to enter. 
 
 " My master commonly receives the ladies her©,'' 
 21 
 
874 THE BRAVO. 
 
 he said. " Enter, ecoellehza, while I run te tell Wm 
 of his happiness." 
 
 Gelsomina did not hesitate, though she feh a vio- 
 lent throb at the heart, when she heard the key 
 turning in the lock, behind her. She was in an ante- 
 chamber, and, inferring from the light which shone 
 through the door of an adjoining' roortl, that she 
 was to proceed, she went on. No sooner had she 
 entered the httle <;loset, thfin she found herself alone 
 with one of her own sex. 
 
 " Annina !" burst from the lips of the unpractised 
 prison-girl. Under the ilhpulse of surprise. 
 
 " Gelsomina ! — The simple^ quiet, whispering 
 mod(Mt,jGelsomina!" rettirried the othei*. 
 
 The words of Annina admitted but of one con- 
 struction. Wounded, like the bruised sensitive plant. 
 Gelsomina withdrew her mask, for air, actually 
 gasping JFor breath, between offended pride and 
 wonder. 
 
 <' Thou here !" she added, scarce knowing what 
 she uttered. 
 
 "Thou here!" repeated Annina, with such a 
 laugh, as escapes the degraded, when they believe 
 the innocent reduced to their own level 
 
 " Nay — I come on an errand of pity." 
 
 " Santa Maria ! we are both hftre with the same 
 end!" 
 
 " Annina ! I know not what thou would'st say ! — 
 This is surely the palace of -Don CamJllo Monforte I 
 — A noble Neapolitan, who urges claims to the hon- 
 ors of the senate ? " 
 
 " The gayest — the handsomesi — the richest, and 
 the most inconstant cavalier in Venice ! Hadst thoti 
 been here, a thousand times, thou could'st not be 
 better informed ! " 
 
 Gelsomina listened in horror, Her artful cousin, 
 who knew her character to the full extent that vice 
 can comprehend innocence, watched her colorless 
 
Tire BRAVO. - 3*75 
 
 cheek aud contracting eye, witft secret triurnpli 
 At the first moment, she had believed all lliat she 
 iusiouatecl. but second thoughts, and a view of the 
 visible distress of the frigiitened giti, gave a new 
 direction to her suspicions. 
 
 " But I tell thee nothing new," she quickly added. 
 " I only mgrei thou shodd'st find me, where, no 
 doubt, you expected to meet the Duca dt Sant' 
 Ag»ta himself.'^ 
 
 " Annina! — This/rmn iheei" 
 
 '.' Thou surely didst not come to his palace to 
 seek thy eousin!" 
 
 Gelsomina had long been familiar with grief, but 
 until this moment she had never felt the deep humil- 
 iation of shame. Tears started from her ^esf, and 
 she sunk back into a seat, in utter inability to stated. 
 
 " I would not distress thee out of bearing," added 
 the artful (ia.<ught» of the wine^sdier. « But that 
 we are both in the closet of the gayest cavalier of 
 Venice, is beyond dispute." 
 
 ^ I hav« told thee that pity for another brought 
 me hither." 
 
 " Pity for Don Camillo." 
 
 " For a noble lady- — a young, a virtuous, and a 
 beautiful wife-r-a daughter of the Tiepolo — of the 
 Tiopolo, Annina !" 
 
 "Why should a lady of the Tiepolo employ a 
 girl of t«0ipublie prisons!" 
 
 " Why ! — because there has been injustice by 
 those Up above. There has been a tumult among 
 the fishermen — and the lady With her goveniess 
 were liberated by th^ rioters — and his Highness 
 spoke to them in the great court — and the Dalma- 
 tians were on the quay — and the prison was a re- 
 fuge for ladies of their quahty, m a moment of so 
 great terror — and the Holy Church itself has bless- 
 ed their love- — " 
 
 Gelsomina could utter no more, but breathless with 
 
376 THE BRAVO. 
 
 the wish to vindicate herself, aad wounded to the 
 soul by the strange embarrassment of her situation, 
 she sobbed aloud. Incoherent as had been her lan- 
 guage, she had said enough to remove eyery'doubt 
 from the mind of Annina.. Privy to. the secret mar- 
 riage, to tJVe rking of , the fishermen^ and to the de- 
 parture of thfs lilies,' from the convent on a dislknl 
 island, .whpre they had been carried on quitting 
 their own palace, the preceding nighty and whit^ier 
 she had been compelled to conduct Don Camillo, 
 who had asceJTtained the^ de^rture of thobe he 
 sought without discovering their destination, the 
 daughter of the wine-seller readily comprehended, 
 not only, the errand of her cousin, but die precise 
 situation of the fugitives. > • .. n, 
 
 "And thou believest this fiction, Gelsomina?" 
 she said, affecting pity for her sousin's credulity 
 "The characters of thy pretended daughter trf Tiie- 
 polo an4 her governess are no secrets to those who 
 frequent the, piazza of San Marco."« ' 
 
 " Hadsttithpjn seen .the beauty and innocence of 
 the lady, Annina, thou would'st not say this !" 
 
 " Blessed San Theodore ! What is more beauti- 
 ful th^n vice! 'Tis the cheapest artifice of the devil 
 to deceive frail sinners. This thou hast heard of 
 thy confessor, Gelsomina, or he is of much lighte"" 
 discourse than mine." ' 
 
 " But why should a woman of this life enter < the 
 prisons?" ■■, <■ ■• 
 
 " They had good reasons to dread the Dalma- 
 tians, no doubt. I, But,; it is in my power to tell thee 
 more, of these thou, hast entertained, with such 
 peril to thine own reputation. There are women 
 in Venice who discredit their sex in various wayS; 
 and these, more particularly she who calls herself 
 Florinda, is notorious for her agencj' in robbing St. 
 Mark of his revenue. She has received a largess 
 from the Neapolitan, of wines grown on his Cala 
 
■VUE BRAVO. 3T7 
 
 bnan mountaiiiB, and wishing to tamper with my 
 honesty, she offered the liquor to me, expecting one 
 like me to forget my duty, and to aid her in deceiT- 
 ing the republic." 
 
 "Can this be true, Annina!" 
 
 "Whyshonld I deceive thee? Are we not sis- 
 ter's children, and diough alTairs on the I^do keep 
 me much from thy company, is not the love be- 
 tween us natural? I complained to the authorities, 
 and the liquors were seized, and the pretended no- 
 ble ladies were obliged to hide themselveB this very 
 day^ 'Tis thousbl tkey wish to flee the city, with 
 their profligate )Neapolitan< Driven to take shelter. 
 they nave sent thee to acquaint him with theii 
 hiding-place, in order that he may come to theii 
 aid." 
 
 " And why art th6n here, Annina ?" 
 
 " I marvel that thou didst not put the question 
 sooner. Gino, the gondolier of Pcm Camiilo, has 
 long been an unfevorable suitor of mine, and when 
 this Florinda complained of my having, what every 
 honest girl in Venice should do, exposed her fraud 
 to the authorities, he advised his master to seize me, 
 partly in revenge, and partly with the vain hope of 
 making me retract the complaint I have made. Thou 
 hast heard of the bold violence of these cavaliers 
 when thwarted in their wills." 
 
 Annina then related the manner of her seizure, 
 with sufficient exactitude, merely concealing those 
 tiicts that it was not her interest to reveal. 
 
 " But there is a lady of the Tiepolo, Annina ! " 
 
 " As sure as there are cousins like ourselves. 
 Santa Madre di Dio ! that women so treacherous 
 and so bold should have met one of thy innocence ! 
 It would have been better had they ^llen in with 
 me, who am too ignorant for their cunning, blessed 
 St. Anna knows I — but who has not to learn theii 
 true characters." 
 
 212 
 
378 .THE BRAVO. 
 
 "They did speak of thee^ Annina !" ■■.;;, i 
 
 , The glance, which the wine-seller's daughtei 
 ihrew at her cousini was such as the treacherous 
 serpent casts at the bird ; but preserving her self- 
 possession, she added — : 
 
 "Not to .my'flvor; it would sicken me to hear 
 words of favor from such as they!" i 
 
 " Theyiare not thy friends, Annina." 
 
 "Perhapsitheyttold thee, child, that I was in the 
 employment of the council T" 
 
 «,' Indeed they did." 
 
 "No woiider.. Your dishonest geople can never 
 believe one can do an act of 'pure conscience. 
 But, here comes the Neapolitan. — ^Note the hbertine, 
 Gelsomina, and thou wilt feel for him the same dis- 
 gust as I!" i' 
 
 The door opened, and Don Camillo Monforte en- 
 tered. There was an appearance of distrust in his 
 manner, which proved that.<he did not expect to 
 meet his bride. Gelsomina arose, and, though be- 
 wildered by the tale of her cousin, and her own 
 .previous impressions, she stood resembling a meek 
 statue of modestyj awaiting his approach. The 
 Neapolitan was evidently struck by her beauty,! and 
 the simplicity/of her air, but his brow was fixed, 
 like that of a man who had steeled his feeUngs 
 against deceit. 
 
 " Thou would'st see me?" he said. i 
 
 " I had that wishj : noble Signore, but — Annina—*" 
 
 " Seeing another, thy mind hath changed." 
 
 " Signore, it has." - 
 
 ■Don Camillo looked at her! earnestly,' and with 
 manlyregret. . iJ ,-( 
 
 " Thou art young for thy vocation^-^here is gold 
 Retire as thou earnest. — ^But hold— dost thou knotv 
 this Annina?" 
 
 " She is my mother's sister's daughter, noble 
 Duca." ' , 
 
THE BRAVO. 379 
 
 " Per Diana I a worthy sisterhobd ! Depart to- 
 getber, for I have no need of either. But mark 
 me," and as he spoke, Don Camillo took Annina by 
 the arm, and led her aside, when he continued with 
 a low but menacing voice — " Thou see'st I am to 
 be feared, as well as thy Councils. Thou canst not 
 cross the threshold of thy father without my know- 
 ledge. If prudent, thou wilt teabh-thy tongue, dificre- 
 tioq. Do as thou wilt, I fear thee not ; but remem- 
 ber, prudence," ♦ 
 
 Annina ma4e an humble reverence,as if in acknow- 
 ledgment of the wisdom of his advice, and taking 
 the arm of her half-unconscious cousin, she again 
 curtsied, and hurried from the room. As the pres- 
 ence of their master in his closet was. known to 
 them, none of the menials presumed to stop those 
 who issued from the privileged room. Gelsomina, 
 who was even moreinlpatient than her wily com- 
 panion to escape from, a place she beUeved polluted, 
 was nearly breathless 'Wnen she reached the gon- 
 dola. Its owner was in waiting on the stepsy and 
 in a moment the boat whirled away from a spot 
 which both of those it contained were, though for 
 reasons so very different, glad to quit. 
 
 Gelsomina had forgotten her mask, in her hurry ; 
 and the gondola was no sooner in the great canal 
 than she put her face at the window of the paviUon 
 in quest of the evening air. The rays of the moon 
 fell upon her guileless eye, and a cheek that was 
 now glowing,, partly with offended pride, and partly 
 with joy at her escape from a situation she felt 
 to be so degrading^. Her forehead was. touched 
 with a finger, and turning she saw the gondolier 
 making a sign of caution. He then slowly .ifte^ 
 his mask. 
 
 " Carlo !" had half burst from her lipsj but another 
 sign suppressed the cry. 
 
 Gelsomina withdrew her head, and, after her 
 
380 'fUK HRAva. 
 
 besdiag fceart had ceased tolllrdb, she feo wed her 
 face and inuriiaured itharfksgivwgs, at finding herself 
 at such a moment, under the protection of one who 
 possessed all her confidence. 
 
 The gcHidolier asked no orders for his direction. 
 The boat moved on, taking the direction of the port, 
 which appeared perfectly natural to the two females. 
 
 Annina supposed it was returning to the square, 
 the place ^e would have sought had she been alone, 
 and Gclsomina, who believed that he whom she 
 called Carlo, toiled regularly as a gondolier for sup 
 port, fancied, of course, that he was taking her to 
 her ordinary residence. 
 
 But though the innocent can endure the scorn of 
 the world, it is hard indeed to be suspected by those 
 they love. All that Annina had told her of the 
 character of Don Camillo and his associates came 
 gradually across the mind of the gentle Gelsomina, 
 and she felt the blood ereeping to her temples,- as she 
 saw the construction her lover might put on her 
 conduct. A dozen times did the artless girl satisfy 
 herself with saying inwardly, "^ he knows me and 
 will believe the best," and as often did her ifeeliiigs 
 prompt her to tell the truth. Suspense is far more 
 pairiful, at such moments, than even vindication, 
 which, in itself, is a humiliating duty to the virtuous. 
 Pretending a desire to breathe the air, she left her 
 cousin in the canopy. Annina was not sorry to be 
 alone, for she had need to reflect on all the windings 
 of the sinuous path on which she had entered, 
 
 Gelsomina succeeded in passing the pavilion, and 
 n gaining the side of the gondolier. 
 
 "Carlo!" — she said, observing that he continued 
 '.o row in silence. 
 
 "Gelsomina!" 
 
 " Thou hast not questioned me I" 
 
 " I know thy treacherous cousin, and can believe 
 
TOE BRAVO. S8f 
 
 thou art her dupe. The moment to learn the truth 
 will come." 
 
 " Thou didst riot know fiie, Catlo, when I called 
 thee from the bridge?" 
 
 " I did not-^Any fare that ymiAi occupy itjy time 
 was welcome." 
 
 " Why dost thou call Annina treacherous ?" 
 
 " Because Venice does not hold a more wily heart, 
 or a falser tongue." 
 
 Gelsomitia remembered the warning of Donna 
 Plorinda. Possessed of the advahtaige of Mbod, and 
 that reliance which the liiCTtperienced always place 
 in the integrity of their friends, until exposure crtmes 
 to destroy the illusion, Antiiria had found it easy t6 
 persuade her cousin of the unworthiness of her 
 guests. But here was one ^ho had all her syilipa- 
 thies. Who openly denounced Annina hersielf. In 
 such a dilemma the bewildered girt' did what nature 
 and her feelings suggested^ She recounted, in a low 
 but rapid voice,' the incidents of the evening, and 
 Annina's construction of the conduct of the females 
 whom she had left behind in the prison. 
 
 JaoopO' listened so intently that his oar dragged in 
 the water. 
 
 "Enough," he said. When Gelsomina, blushmg 
 with her own earnestness to stand exculpated in his 
 eyes, had done ; " I understand it all. Distrust thy 
 cousin, fbr the senate itself is not more false." 
 
 The pretfended Carlo spoke Cautiously, but in a 
 firm voice.- Gelsomina tbok his Ateaning, though 
 wondering at what she heard, and retuiiied to An- 
 nina within. The gondola' proceeded, as if nothing 
 had occurred. 
 
388 THE BRAVO. 
 
 CHAPTEE. XXVL , 
 
 " Enough. 
 I, could be merry now : Hubert, I love thee ; 
 Well, I'll not Bay what I intend for thee : 
 Remember. 
 
 Sittg Jokn. 
 
 Jacopo was deeply practised in the windings ol 
 Venetian deceit. He knew how unceasingly the 
 eyes of the Couaeils, throagh their agetits, were on 
 the movements of those in whom they took an inter- 
 est, and he was far from feeling all the advantage 
 circumstances had seemingly thrown in his way. 
 Annina was certainly in his power, and it was not 
 possible that she had yet communicated the intelli- 
 gence, derived from Gelsomina, to any of her em- 
 ployers. But a gesture, a look in passing the prison- 
 gates, the appearance of duresse, or an exclamation, 
 might give the alarm to some one of the thousand' 
 spies of the police. The disposal of Annina's person 
 in some place of safety, therefore, became the first 
 and the most material act To return to the palace 
 of Don Camillo, would be to go into the midst of the 
 hirehngs of the senate ; and although the Neapolitan, 
 relying on his rank and influence, had preferred this 
 step, when little importance was attached to the de- 
 tention of the girl, and when all she kndwhad been 
 revealed; the case was altered, now that she might 
 become the connecting link in the infomiation neces 
 sa^ to enable the officers to find the fugitives. 
 . The gondola ^oved on. Palace after palace was 
 passed, and the impatient Annina thrust her head 
 from a window to note its progress. They came 
 among the shipping of the port, and her uneasiness 
 sensibly increased. Making a pretext similar to that 
 of Gelsomina, the wine-seller's daughter quitted the 
 oavilion, to steal to the side of the gondolier. 
 
THE BRAVa 383 
 
 " I woyld be laoded quickly at thp water-gate of 
 the doge's palace," she said, slipping a piece of sil- 
 ver into the hand of the boatman. 
 
 " You shall be served, Bella Donna. But — ^Dia- 
 mine ! I marvel that a girl of thy wit should not 
 scent the treasures in yonder felucca ! " 
 
 " Dost thou mean the Sorrentine ? " 
 
 " What other padrone brings as well-flavored 
 liquors within the Lido ! . Qdet thy irnpatience to 
 land, daughter of honest old Maso, and trafBc with 
 the padrone, for the, comfort of us of the canals." 
 
 " How ! Thou knowest me then 1 " 
 
 •' To be the pretty wine-seller of the Lido. Corpo 
 di Bacco ! Thou art. as well known as the sea-wall 
 itself, to us gondoliers." 
 
 "Why art thou masked t thou canst not be 
 Luisi ! " 
 
 "It is little matter whether I am called Luigi, or 
 Enrico, or Giorgio — I am thy customer, and honor 
 the shortest hair of thy eyebrows. Thou knowest, 
 Annina, that the young patricians have their frolics, 
 and they swear us gondoliers to keep secret till all 
 danger of detection is over ; were any impertinent 
 eyes following me, I might be questioned as to the 
 manner of having passed the earlier hours." 
 
 " Methinks it would be better to have given thee 
 gold, and to have sent thee at once to thy home." 
 
 " To be followed like a denounced Hebrew to my 
 door. When I have confounded my boat with a 
 thousand o^ers, it will be, time to uncover. Wilt 
 thou to the Bella Sorrentina?" 
 
 " Nay, 'tis not necessary to ask, since thou takest 
 the direction of thine own will !" 
 
 The gondolier laughed and nodded his head, as 
 if he would give his companion to understand that 
 he was master of her secret wishes. Annina was 
 ifsitating in what manner she should make him 
 
384 trtE BRAVd 
 
 change his purposie, when the ^ondofu ttmchfed llie 
 felucca's side. 
 
 " We will go up and ispeak to the padrone," 
 wMspiered Jacopo. 
 
 « It is of no avail; he is without liquors." 
 
 " Trust him not — I know the ma;n and his pre 
 tences." 
 
 « Thou forgettest my cousin." 
 
 " She is an innocent and unsuspecting child." 
 
 Jacopo lifted Anniiia, as he spoke, on the deck 
 of the^ Bella Sorrehtina, iti a manner between gal- 
 lantry and force, and leaped afler her. Without 
 patising, 6r suffering her to rally her thoughts, he 
 led' her to the' cabin stairs, which she descended, 
 wondering at his conduct, but determined not to 
 betray her own secret wrongs on the customs to a 
 stranger. 
 
 Stefano Milano was asleep, in a sail, on deck, A 
 toUch aroused him, and a sign gaVe him to under- 
 stand that the imaginaiy Roderigo stood before 
 hini. 
 
 « A thousand pardbrts, Signore," said the gaping 
 mariner ; " is the freight come I 
 
 " In part only. 1 have fought thee a certain 
 Annina Torti, the daughter of old Tommaso Torti, 
 a wine^eller of the Lidb." 
 
 " Santa Madre ! does the senate think it neces- 
 sary to send one like her from the city in secret?" 
 
 " It does — and it lays great stress on her deten- 
 tion. I have cortie hither with her, without suspi- 
 cion of my object, and shei has been prevailed on to 
 enter thy cabita, under a pretence of some secret 
 dealings .in wines. Accordmg to our former under- 
 standing, it will be thy business to make sure of lier 
 presence." 
 
 " That is easily done,'* returned Stefano, stepping 
 fbrvv^ai'd and closing' the cabih-door, which he' se- 
 cured by a bolt. « She is alone, now, with the 
 
THE BRAVO. 385 
 
 linage of our Lady, and a better occasion to repeat 
 her aves cannot offer." 
 
 " This is well, if thou canst keep her so. It is 
 now time to lift thy anchors, and to go beyond the 
 tiers of the vessels with the felucca." 
 
 " Signore, there wants but' five minutoe for that 
 duty, since we are ready." 
 
 " Then perform it, in all speed, for much depends 
 on the managenlent ef this dielicate duty. I will be 
 with thee, anon. Hearkee, Master Stefano; take 
 heed of thy prisoner, for the senate makes great 
 account of her security." 
 
 The Calabrian made such a gesture, as one ini- 
 tiated uses, when he would express a confidence in 
 his own shrewdness. While the pretended Roderigo 
 re-entered his gondola, Stefano began to awaken 
 his people. As the gondola entered the canal of 
 San Marco, the sails of the felucca fell, and the low 
 Calabrian vessel stole along the tiers towards the 
 clear water beyond. 
 
 The boat quickly touched the steps of the water- 
 gate of the palace. Gelsomina entered the arch, 
 and glided up the Giant's Stairway, the route by 
 which she had quitted the palace. The halberdier 
 was the same that watched as she went out He 
 spoke to her, in gallantry, but offered no impedi- 
 ment to her entrance. 
 
 " Haste, noble ladies, hasten for the love of the 
 Holy Virgin ! " exclaimed Gelsomina, as she burst 
 into the room in which Donna Violetta and her 
 companion awaited her appearance. " I have en- 
 dangered your liberty by my weakness, and there 
 is not a mOment to lose. Follow while you may, 
 nor stop to whisper even a prayer." 
 
 " Thou art hurried and breathless," returned 
 Donna Florinda ; " hast thou seen the Duca di 
 Sant'Agata?" 
 
 " Nay, question me not, but follow, noble daines " 
 3K 
 
380 THE BRAVO. 
 
 , Gclsomina seized, the lamp, and casting a glance, 
 that appealed strongly to her visitors for tacit com- 
 pUance, she led the way into the corridors. It is 
 scarcely necessary to say that she was followed. 
 
 The prison was left in safety, the Bridge of 
 Sighs vvas passed, for it will be remeirjbered tluii 
 Gelsomina was stiU mistress of the keys, and the , 
 party went swiftly by. the great stairs of, the palace 
 into the open gallery. No obstruction was offered to 
 their progress, and they all descended to the court, 
 with the quiet demeanor of females who went out . 
 on their ordinary affairs. 
 
 Jacopo awaited at the water-gate. In less than a 
 minute he was driving his gondola across the port, 
 following the course ' of the felucca, whose, white 
 sail was visible in the moonlight, now bellying in 
 the breeze, and now flapping as the mariners 
 checked her speed. GJelsomina watched their pro- 
 gress for a moment in breathless interest, and then 
 she crossed the bridge of the quay, and entered the 
 prison by its public gate. 
 
 " Hast thou made sure of the old 'Maso's daughr 
 ter?" demanded Jacopo, on reaching the deck of 
 the Bella Sorrentina again. 
 
 ",She is like shifting ballast, Master Roderigp; 
 first on one side of the cabin, and then on the 
 other-; but you see the bolt is undrawn." 
 
 "'Tis well: here is more of thy freight — thou 
 hast the proper passes for the galley of the guard V 
 
 " AH is in excellent order, Signore ; vyhen was 
 Stefano Milano out of rule in a matter of haste? 
 Diamine! let the breeze come, and though the 
 setiate should wish us back again, it might send all 
 its spirri after us in vain." 
 
 "Excellent Stefano ! fill thy sails, then, for cur 
 masters watch, your movements, and set a value on 
 V<Jur diligence." 
 
 Whik the Calabrian complied, Jacopo assisted 
 
THE BRAVO. 387 
 
 th^i ffsmales to come up out of the gondola. In a 
 moment the heavy yards swung off, wing and wing, 
 and the bubbles that appeared to gl<^nce past the 
 side? of the Bella ^rreotma, denoted her speed. 
 
 " Thou hast noble ladies in thy passengers," said 
 Jftcopo to, the padrone, when the latter wa& released, 
 frQm the active duties of getting his vessel iii mo- 
 tion ; " and though policy requires that they should 
 quit the city for a time, thou wilt gain favor by con- 
 sulting their pleasures." 
 
 " Doubt me not, Master Roderige ; but thou for- 
 gettest that I have not yet received my sailing in- 
 strpptipns; a felucca without a course, is as badly 
 off as an owl in the sun." 
 
 " Tha^ in good . time ; there will come an officer 
 of the republip to settle this matter with thee. I 
 would not have these noble ladies know, that one 
 like Annina is to he their fellow-passenger, while 
 they are near the pprt ;. for they might complain of 
 disrespect.. Thou understandest, Stefano?" 
 
 " Cospetto 1 am 1 a fool ? a blunderer ? if so, why 
 does the. senate employ me ? the girl is out of. hear- 
 ing,; and there let her stay. As l«ng. as the noble 
 dames are willing to breathe, the night air, they 
 shall have none of, her company." 
 
 "No fear of them.. The dwellers of the land 
 little relish the pent; air of thy cabin. Thou wilt go 
 without the Lido, Stefano, and await my coming 
 If, tifna should'st not see rqe before the hour of one, 
 bear away for the pprt of Ancona, where thou wilt 
 get further tidings." 
 
 fetefano, who had often previously received his 
 in^tTuptions frpni the, ims^ginary Rodorigo, nodded 
 assent, and they parted. It is scarcely necessary 
 tu add, that|tbe fugitives had been fully instructed lu 
 tl*e conduct they were to maintain. 
 
 The gondola of Jacopo never flew faster, than^ 
 he QQw urg^d it tq wards the land. In the constant „ 
 25 
 
388 THE BRAVO 
 
 passage of tlie boats, the movements of one were 
 not likely to be remarked ; and he found, when he 
 reached the quay of the square, that his passing and 
 repassing had not been observed. He boldly un- 
 masked and landed. It was near the hour when 
 he had given Don Camillo a rendezvous in the 
 piazza, and he walked slowly up the smaller square, 
 towards the appointed place of meeting. 
 
 Jacopo, as has been seen in an earlier chapter 
 had a practice of walking near the columns of 
 granite in the first hours of the night. It was the 
 vulgar impression that he waited there for custom 
 in his bloody calling, as men of more innocent lives 
 take their stands in places of mark. When seen on 
 his customary stand, he was avoided by all who 
 were chary of their character, or scrupulous of ap- 
 pearances. 
 
 The persecuted and yet singularly tolerated 
 Bravo, was slowly pacing the flags on his way to 
 the appointed place, unwilling to anticipate the mo- 
 ment, when a laquais thrust a paper into his hand, 
 and disappeared as fast as legs would carry him. 
 It has been seen that Jacopo could not read, for 
 that was an age when men of his class were studi- 
 ously kept in ignorance. He turned to the first pas- 
 senger who had the appearance of being likely to 
 satisfy his wishes, and desired him to do the office 
 of interpreter. 
 
 He had addressed an honest shop-keeper of a 
 distant quarter. The man took the scroll, and good- 
 naturedly commenced reading its contents aloud. 
 " I am called away, and cannot meet thee, Jacopo 1" 
 At the name of Jacopo, the tradesman dropped the 
 paper and fled. 
 
 The Bravo walked slowly back again, towards 
 the quay, ruminating on the awkward accident 
 ■\yhicli had crossed his plans ; his elbow was touch 
 ed, and a masker confronted him when he turned. 
 
THE BRAVO 389 
 
 "Thou art Jacopo Frontoni?" said the stranger. 
 
 " None else." 
 
 " Thou hast a hand to serve an employer, faith- 
 'uUy?" 
 
 " I keep my faith." 
 
 " 'Tis well, — thou Avilt find a hundred sequins in 
 this sack." ' 
 
 "Whose life is set against this gold?" asked Ja- 
 copo, in an uijder tone. 
 , " Don Camillb Monforte." 
 
 "Don Camillo Monforte!" 
 
 " The same: dost thou know the rich noble?" 
 
 " You have well described him, Signore. He 
 would pay his barber this for letting blood. 
 
 " Do thy job thoroughly, and the price shall be 
 doubled." 
 
 " I want the security of a name. I know you not, 
 Signore." 
 
 The straftger looked cautiously around him, and 
 raising his mask for an instant, he showed the coun- 
 tenance of Giacomo Gradenigo. 
 
 « Is the pledge sufficient ?" 
 
 " Signore, it is. When must this deed be done ?" 
 
 "This night. — Nay, this hour, even." 
 
 " Shall I strike a noble of his rank in his palace — 
 m his very pleasures?" 
 
 " Come hither, Jacopo, and thou shalt know more. 
 Hast thou a mask?" 
 
 The Bravo signified his assent. 
 
 "Then keep thy face behind a cloud, for it is 
 not in favor here, and seek thy boat. I will join 
 thee." 
 
 The young patrician, whose form was effectually 
 concealed by his attire, quitted his companion, with 
 a view of rejoining him anew, where his person 
 should nut be known. Jacopo forced his boat from 
 among the crowd at the quay, and having entered 
 the open space, between the tiers, he lav on his oar 
 2K2 
 
390 THE BRAVO. 
 
 well knowing that he was watched, ana that he 
 would soon be followed. His cdnjecture was right, 
 For in a few moments a gondola pulled swiftly to 
 the side of his own, and two men in masks passed 
 from the strange boat into that of the Bravo, with- 
 out speaking. 
 
 " To the Lido," said a voice, which Jaeppo knew 
 '.o be that of his new employer. 
 
 He was obeyed, the boat of Giacomo Gradenigp 
 following at a little distance. When they were with 
 out the tiers, and consequently beyond the danger 
 of being overheard, the two passengers came out of 
 'the pavilion, and made a sign to the Bravo to cease 
 rowing. 
 
 " Thou wilt accept the service, Jacopo Fronto- 
 ni ?" demanded the profligate heir of the "old senator. 
 
 "Shall I strike the noble in his pleasures, Sig- 
 nore?" 
 
 " It is not necessary.' We have found means to 
 , luife him from his palace, and he is now in thy pow- 
 er, with no other hope than that which ma,y come 
 from his single arm and courage. Wilt thou take 
 the service?" 
 
 " Gladly, Signore — It is my humor to encountei 
 the brave." 
 
 "Thou wilt be gratified. The Neapolitan has 
 thwarted me in my— shall I call it love, llosea i or 
 hast thou a better name?" 
 
 " Just Daniel ! Signor Giacomo, you have no re- 
 spect for reputations and surety ! I see no necessity 
 for a home thrust, Master Jacopo ; but a smart 
 wound, that may put matrimony out of the head of 
 the Duca for a time at least, and penitence into its 
 place, would be better " 
 
 " Strike to the heart !" interrupted Giacomo. " It 
 is the certainty of thy blow which has caused me 
 to seek thee." 
 
 " This is usurious vengeance, Signor Giacomo," 
 
fHE BRAVO. 391 
 
 returned the less resolute Jew. " 'Twill be more than 
 sufficient for our purposes, if we cause the Neapol- 
 tan to keep house for a month." 
 
 « Send him to his g;rave. Harkee, Jacopo, a 
 hundred for thy blow — a second for insurance of 
 its depth — a third, if the body shall be buried in the 
 Orfano, so that the water will never give bacik the 
 secret" 
 
 " If the two firs^,must be performed, the last will 
 oe prudent caution," muttered the Jew, who was a 
 wary villain, and who greatly preferred such sec- 
 ondary expedients, as might lighten the load on his 
 conscience. " You will not trust, young Signore, to 
 a smart wound ?" 
 
 " Not a sequin. 'Twill be heating the fancy of 
 the girl with hopes and pity. Dost thou accept the 
 terms, Jacopo?" 
 
 "I do." 
 
 " Then row to the Lido. Among the graves of 
 Hosea's jppople — ^why dost thou pi3l at, my skirts, 
 Jew ! woUld'st thou hope to deceive a man of this 
 character with a flimsy lie — among the graves of 
 Hosea's people thou wilt meet Don Camillo, within 
 the hour. He is deluded by a pretended letter from 
 the lady of our common pursuit, and will be alone, 
 in the hopes of flight ; I trust to thee to hasten the 
 latter, so far as the Neapolitan is concerned. Dost 
 take my meaning?" 
 
 " Signore, it is plain." 
 
 " 'Tis enough. Thou knowest me, and can take 
 the steps necessary for thy reward, as thou shalt 
 serve me. Aosea, dur affair is ended." 
 
 Giacomo Grkdenigo made a sign for his gondola 
 to approach, and dropping a sack which contained 
 the retainer in this bloody business, he passed |,nto it, 
 .with the indifference of one, w)io had been accus- 
 tomed to consider such means of attaining his object 
 lawful. Not so Hosea — he was a rogue, rather than 
 
308 THE BRAVO 
 
 a villain. The preservation of his money, with the 
 temptation of a large sum which had been promised 
 him, by both father and son, in the event ot the 
 latter's success with Violetta, were irresistible tempt- 
 ations to one who had lived contemned by those 
 around him, and he found his solace, for the rtth 
 less, attempt in , the acquisition of those means of 
 enjoyment, which are sought equally by Christian 
 and Jew. Still his blood curdled,. at the, extremity 
 to which Giacomo would push the affair, and he 
 lingered to utter a parting word to the Bravo, 
 
 " Thou art said to carry a sure stiletto,, honest 
 Jacopo," he whispered. " A hand of thy practice 
 must know how to maim, as well as to slay. — Strike 
 the Neapolitan smartly, but spare his hfe. Even the 
 bearer of a publif dagger like thine, may not fare 
 the worse, at the comingof Shilo; for having been 
 tender of his strength, on occasion." 
 
 " Thou forgettest the gold, Hosea !" 
 
 " Father Abrahanii ! what a memory am I getting, 
 in my years ! Thou sayest truth, mindful Jacopo ; 
 the gold shall be forthcoming, in any event — -al- 
 ways provided that the affair is so managed as to 
 leave my young friend, a successful adventurer with 
 the heiress." 
 
 Jacopo made an impatient gesture, for at that mo- 
 ment he saw a gondolier pulling rapidly towards a 
 private part of the Lido. The Hebrew joined his 
 companion, and the boat of the Bravo darted ahead. 
 It was not long ere it lay on the strand of the Lido. 
 The steps' of Jacopo were rapid, as he moved .to- 
 wards those proscribed graves^ among which he had 
 made his confession to the very man he was now 
 sent to slay. 
 
 " Art thou sent to meet me?" demanded one, vyho 
 
 started from behind a rising in the sands, but who 
 
 ook the precaution to bare his rapier as he appeared 
 
THE BRAVO. 3!)3 
 
 "Signor Duca, I am," returned the Bravo, un- 
 masking. 
 
 " Jacopo ! — This is even better than I had hoped ( 
 Hast thoii tidings from my Bride ■?" 
 
 "Follow, Don Camillo, and yoii shall quickly 
 meet her." 
 
 Words were unnecessary to persuade, when there 
 was such a promise. They were both in the gon- 
 aola of Jacopo, and on their \vay to one of the pas- 
 sages through the Lfdd, which conducts to the gulf 
 before the Bravo commenced his explanation. This, 
 however, was quickly made, not forgetting the design 
 of Giacomo Gradenigo oh the life of his auditor. 
 
 The felucca, which had been previously provided 
 with the necessary pass, by the agents of the police, 
 itself, had quitted the port under easy sail, by the 
 very inlet, through which the gondola made its way 
 into the Adriatic. The water was smooth, the 
 breeze fresh from the land, and in short ajl things 
 were favorable to the fugitives. Donna VToletta and 
 her governess were leaning against a mast, watch- 
 ing with impatient eyes the distant domes, and the 
 midnight beauty of Venice. , Occasionally, strains 
 of mUsic came to their ears from the canals, arid 
 then a touch of natural melancholy crossed the feel- 
 ings of the former, as she feared they might be the 
 last sounds of that nature, she should ever hear from 
 her native town. But unalloyed pleasure drove 
 every regret from her mind when Don Camillo 
 leaped from the gondola, and folded her in triumph 
 to his heart. 
 
 There was little difliculty in persuading Stefano 
 Milano to abandon, for ever, the service of the sen- 
 ate, for that of his feudal lord. The promises and 
 commands of the latter were sufficient of themselves 
 to reconcile him to the change, and all were con- 
 vinced there' was no time to lose. The felucca soon 
 «nread her canvas to the wind, and slid away from 
 
394 THE BRAVO 
 
 the beach. Jacopo permitted his gorJola to be 
 towed a league to sea, before he prepared to re- 
 enter it. 
 
 " You will steer for Ancona, Signer Don Gamillo," 
 said the Bravo, leaping on the felucca's side, still 
 unwilling to depart, " and throw yourself, at once 
 under the protection of the Cardinal Secretary. H 
 Stefaho keep the sea, he may chance meet the galleys 
 of the senate." 
 
 " Distrust us not — ^but thou, my excellent Jacopo — 
 what wilt thou become, in their hands?" 
 
 " Fear not for me, Signore. God disposes of all, 
 as he sees fit. I have told your eccellenza that 1 
 cannot yet quit Venice. If fo'-tune favor me, I may 
 still see your stout castle of Sam' Agata." 
 
 "And none will be more welcome within its secure 
 walls ; I have mufeh fear for thee, Ja^-opo !" 
 
 " Signore, think not of it. I am usfyt. to danger — 
 and to misery — and to hopelessness. . have known 
 a pleasure, this night, in witnessing the happiness of 
 two young hearts, that God, in his anger has long 
 denied me. Lady, the Saints keep you, ."od God, 
 who is above all, shield you from harm ! " 
 
 He kissed the hand of Donna Violetta, wh \ half 
 ignorant still of his services, listened to his wr^rds, 
 in wonder. 
 
 " Don Camillo Monforte," he continueji, " distrust 
 Venice to your dying day. Let no promises — no 
 hopes — no desire of increasing your hon6rs, or you' 
 riches, ever tempt you to put yourself in her powei 
 None know the falsehood of the state, better than ) 
 and with my parting words I warn you to be wary! 
 
 " Thou speakest as if we were to meet no more 
 worthy Jacopo!" 
 
 The Bravo turned, and the action brought hh 
 features to the moon. There was a melancholy 
 smile, in which d * 'p satisfaction at tne success of 
 
THE BRAVO 395 
 
 the lovers was mingled v?ith serious forebodings for 
 himself. 
 
 " Wo are certain only of the past," he said, in a 
 low voice. 
 
 Touching the hand of Don Camillo, he kissed his 
 own and leaped hastily into his gondola. The fast 
 was thrown loose, and the felucca glided away, leav 
 ing this extraordinary being, alone, in the waters. 
 The Neapolitan ran to the taifrail, and the last he 
 saw of Jacopo, the Bravo was rowing leisurely back 
 towards that scene of violence and deception, from 
 which he himself was so glad to have escaped. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVn. 
 
 My limbs are bow'd, though not with toil, 
 
 Bdt rusted with a vile repose. 
 For they have been a dungeon's spoil. 
 
 And mine hath been the iate of thoae 
 To whom the goodly earth and air 
 Are bann'd, and barr'd — foibidden liire. 
 
 Prisoner of C)nDt» 
 
 When the day dawned on the following morning, 
 the square of St. ^ark was empty. The priests still 
 chanted their prayers for the dead, near the body 
 of old Antonio, and a few fishermen still lingered 
 in and near the cathedral but half persimded of the 
 manner in which their companion had come to his 
 end. But, as was usual at that hour of the day, the 
 city appeared tranquil, for though a slight alarm had 
 passed through the canals, at the movement of the 
 rioters, it had subsided in that specious and distrust- 
 ful quiet, which is, more or less, the unavoidable 
 
396 THE BRAVO 
 
 consequence of a system that is not substaniiftlly 
 based on the willing support of the mass. 
 
 Jacopo was again in the attic of the doge's 
 palace, accompanied by the gentle Gelsomina. As 
 they threaded the windings of the building, he re- 
 counted to the eager ear of his oompsmion, all the 
 details connected , with the escape of the lovers; 
 omitting, as a matter of prudence, the attempt of 
 Giacomo Gradenigo on the life of Don Gamillo. 
 The unpractised and single-hearted girl heard him 
 in breathless attention, the color of her ch^ekj and 
 the changeful eye, betraying the force of hei' ^rtl- 
 pathies,'at each turn in their hazardous adventure. 
 
 " And dost thou think they can yet escape from- 
 those up above?" murnuirea Gelsomina, for few in 
 Venice would trust their voices, by putting such a 
 question aloud. " Thou knowest the republic hath 
 at all times, its galleys in the, ^-driatip !" 
 
 "We have hafl thought of" that, arid the Calabrian 
 is advised to steer for the mole of Ancona. Once 
 within the States oif tfie CJhurch, the influence of 
 Don Camillo and the rigKts of hjs noble wife will 
 protect them. Is there a place here, ^heince we 
 can look out upon the sea?'" , ^, 
 
 Gelsomina led the Bravo 'into an empty room of 
 the "attic 'which commanded a view of the port, the 
 Lido,, and the waste of waiter beyond, "the bree5;e 
 came ia strong currents, over thte roofs of the 
 town, and causing the masts of the port to roek, it 
 lighted on the, Lagunes, without the tiers of the 
 shipping. From: this point, to the barrier of sand, 
 it was apparent, by the stooping sails and the strug- 
 gles of the gondoliers who pUUed towards the quay, 
 that the air. was swift. Without the Lido, itself, the 
 element was shadowed and fitful, whilfe farther in 
 the distances; the troubled waters^ with their crests 
 of foam, sufficiently proved its power. 
 
 "Santa Maria be praised!" exclaimed Jacopo,, 
 
THE BRAVO. 89T 
 
 when his understanding eye had run over the near 
 and distant view — " they are already far down the 
 coast, and with a wind like this they cannot fail to 
 reach their haven, in a few hours. — Let us go to 
 the cell." 
 
 Gelsomina smiled, when he assured her of the 
 safety of the fugitives, but her look saddened when 
 he changed the discourse. Without reply, how 
 ever, she did as he desired, and in a veiy feW mo- 
 ments they were standing by the side of the prison- 
 er's pallet. The latter did not appear to observe 
 their entrance, and Jacopo was obliged to announce 
 himself. 
 
 "Father!" he said, with that melancholy pathos 
 which always crept into his voice when he address- 
 ed the old man, " it is I." 
 
 The prisoner turned, and though Evidently much 
 enfeebled, since the last visit, a wan smile gleamed 
 On his wasted features. 
 
 " And thy mother, b6y ?" he asked, so eagerly as 
 to cause Gelsomina to turn hastily aside. 
 
 " Happy, father — happy!" 
 
 " Happy without me r* 
 
 " She is ever with thee, in Spirit, father. She 
 thinks of thee in her prayers. Thou hast a saint 
 Kvf an intercessor, in my mother— father." 
 
 'And thy good sister?" 
 
 Happy too — 4oubt it not, father. Thfey are 
 bom patient and resigned." 
 
 "The senate, boy I" 
 
 "Is the same: Soulless, selfish, and pi^tending! 
 answered Jacopo sternly; then turning a\Vay his 
 face, jn bitterness of heart, though without perniit- 
 ting the words to be audible, he cursed them. 
 • "The lioble Signori were deceived in believing 
 me concerned in the attempt to rob their revenues," 
 :«turned (she patient old man ; " one day they will 
 see and acknowledge their error " 
 2L 
 
398 THE BRAVO. 
 
 Jacopo made no answer, for, unlettered as ho 
 was, and curtailed of that knowledge which should 
 De, and is, bestowed on all, by every paternal gov- 
 ernment, the natural strength of his mind had ena- 
 bled him to understand, that a system, which on its 
 face professed to be founded on the superior ac- 
 quirements of a privileged few, would be the least 
 likely to admit the fallacy of its^ theories, by con- 
 fessing it could err. 
 
 • Thou dost the nobles injustice, son ; they are il- 
 lustrious patricians, and have no motive in oppress- 
 ing one like me." 
 
 " None, father, but the necessity of maintaining 
 the severity of the laws, which make them senators 
 and you a prisoner." 
 
 " Nay*, boy, I have knowti worthy gentlemen of 
 the senate ! There was the late signor Tiepolo, 
 who did me much favor in my youth. But for this 
 false accusation, I might now have been one of 
 the most thriving of my craft in Venice." 
 
 " Fathei, we will pray for the soul ol the Tie- 
 polo." 
 
 " Is the senator dead?" 
 
 " So says a gorgeojus tomb in the church of the 
 Redentore." ' 
 
 " We must all die at last," whispered the old man, 
 crossing himself. " Doge as well as patrician — 
 patrician as well as gondolier. — Jaco " 
 
 " Father ! " exclaimed the Bravo, so suddenly as 
 to interrupt the coming word, tlien kneeling by the 
 pallet of the prisoner he whispered in his ear, " thou 
 forgettest there is reason why thou should'st not 
 call me by that name. I have told thee, oflen, that 
 if thus called, my visits must stop." 
 
 The prisoner looked bewildered, for the failing 
 of nature rendered that obscure which was once so 
 evident to his mind. After gazing long at his son 
 
TlIK nRAi'O. 39J 
 
 his eye wandered between him and the wall, and 
 he stniled childishly. 
 
 " Wilt thou look, good bey, if the spider is come 
 back?" 
 
 Jacopo groaned, but he rose to comply. 
 
 " I do not see it, father ; the season is not yet 
 warm." 
 
 " Not warm ! my veins feel heated to bursting. 
 Thou! forgettest this is the attic, and that these are 
 the leads, and the»the sun — oh ! the sun ! The il- 
 lustrious senators do not bethink them of the pain 
 of ptissing the bleak winter below the canals, and 
 the burning summers beneath hot metal." 
 
 " They think of nothing but their power," mur- 
 •nured Jacopo—" that which is wrongfully obtain- 
 ed, must be maintained by merciless injustice — but 
 why should we speak of this, father ; hast thou all 
 thy body needs 1 
 
 " Air — son, air ! — give me of that air, which God 
 has made for the meanest living thing." !;. 
 
 The Bravo rushed towards those fiss.v;u-es in the 
 venera:ble but polluted pile, he had already striven 
 to open, and with frantic force he endeavored to 
 widen them with his hands. The material resisted, 
 though blood flowed from the ends of his fingers, in 
 the desperate effort. 
 
 " The door, Gelsomina, open wide the door ! " he 
 cried, turning away from the spot, exhausted with 
 his fruitless exertions. 
 
 " Nay, I do not sufler- now, my child — it is when 
 thou hast left me, and when 1 am alone with my 
 own thoughts, when I see thy weeping mother ai 
 neglected sister, that I most feel the vrant of air- 
 are we not in the fervid month of August, son 1 " 
 
 " Father, it is not yet June." 
 
 " I shall then have more heat to Lear ! God's will 
 be done, and blessed Santa Maria, his mother ud 
 defiled I^giVe me strength to endure it." 
 
400 THE BRAVO. 
 
 The eye of Jacopo gleamed with a wildness 
 scarcely less frightful than the ghastly look of the 
 bid man, his chest heaved, his fingers were clench- 
 ed, and his breathing was audible. 
 
 " No," he said, in a low, but in so determined a 
 voice, as to prove how fiercely his resolution was 
 set, " thou shalt not await their torments : arise, 
 father, and go with me. The doors are open, the 
 ways of the palace are known to me, in the darkest 
 night, and the keys are at hiind. ' I will find means 
 to cdriceal thee until dark, and we will quit the ac- 
 tursed republic for ever." 
 
 Hope gleanled in the eye of the old captive, as 
 he Ustened to this frantic proposal, hut distrust of 
 the means immediately altered its expression. 
 
 " Thou forgettest those up above, son." 
 
 " I think orfy of One truly above, father." 
 
 " And this girl— how canst thou nope to deceive 
 her?" 
 
 " She will take thy place — she is with us in heart, 
 and will lend herself to a seeming violence. , I do 
 hot promise for thee, idly, kindest Gelsomina?" 
 
 The frightened girl, who had never before wit- 
 nessed so plain evidence of desperation in her com- 
 panion, had Slink lipon an article of furniture, speech- 
 less. The look of the prisoner changed from one 
 to the other, and he m^de an enprt to rise, but de- 
 bility caused him to fall backward, and not till then, 
 did Jacopo perceive the impfacticibility, on many 
 iiccounts, of what, in a moment of excitement, he 
 had proposed. A long silence followed. The hard 
 breathing of Jacopo gradually subsided, and the ex- 
 pression of his face changed to its customary, set- 
 tled, and collected look, 
 
 " Father," he, said, "I must quit thee; our misery 
 draws near a close." 
 
 '• Thoii wilt come to me soon again?" 
 
 " If the saints permit — thy blessing, father," 
 
THE BRAVO. 401 
 
 The old man folded his hands above the heau 
 of Jacopo, and murmured a prayer. When this 
 pious duty was performed, both the Bravo and Gel- 
 somina bus'ed themselves, a little time, in contrib- 
 uting to the todily comforts of the prisoner, and 
 then they departed in company. 
 
 Jacopo appeared unwilling to quit the vicinity of 
 ttie cell. A melancholy presentiment seemed to 
 possess his mind, tliat tnese stolen visits were soon 
 to cease. After a little delay, however, they de- 
 scended to the apartments below, and as Jacopo 
 desired to quit the palace, without re-entering the 
 prisons, Gelsomina prepared to let him out by the 
 principal corridor. 
 
 " Thou art sadder than common. Carlo," she ob- 
 served, watching with feminine assiduity his avert- 
 ed eye;. " Metninks thou should'st rejoice in the 
 fortunes of the I*^eapohtan, and of the lady of the 
 Tiepolo." 
 
 " That escape is like a gleam of sunshine, in a 
 wintry day. Good girl':— but we are observed! 
 why is yon spy on our movements ? " 
 
 " 'T is a menial of the palace ; they constantly 
 cross us in this part of the building : come hither, if 
 thou art weary. The room is little used, and we 
 may again look out upon the sea." 
 
 Jacopo followed his mild conductor into one of 
 the neglected closets of the second floor, where, in 
 truth, he was glad to catch a ghmpse of the state 
 oC things in the piazza, before he left the palace. 
 His first look was at the water, which was still 
 rolling southward, before the gale from the Alps. 
 Satisfied with this prospect, he bent his eye beneath 
 At the instant, an officer of tlie republic issued from 
 the palace gate, preceded by a trumpeter, as was 
 usual, when there was occasion to make public pro 
 clamation of the senate's will. Gelsomina opened 
 the casement, £ind both leaned forward to listen. 
 2L2 
 
^W)2 THE BRA^O. 
 
 When the little procession had reached %he front of 
 the cathedral, the trumpet sounded, and the Voice of 
 the officer was heard. 
 
 " Whereas many wicked and ruthless assassina- 
 tions have of lite been committed on the persons of 
 divers good citizens bf Venice," — he proclaimed — 
 " the senate, in its fatherly care of all whonfi it is 
 charged to protect, has found reason to resort to 
 extraordinary mieans of preventing the tepetition ot 
 crimes so contrary to the laws bf God and the secij- 
 rity of society. The lUustriotis Ten therefore offer, 
 thus publicly, a reward of one hundred sequins to 
 him whb shall discover the perpetrator of any of 
 these most horrible assassinations; and, whereas, 
 during the past night, the body of a certain Antonio, 
 a well-known fisherman, atid a worthy citizen, much 
 esteemed by the patricians, has been found in the 
 'Lagunes, and, whereas, there is "but too much reason 
 to believe that he has come to his death by the hands 
 of a certain Jacopb Frontohi, who has the reputation 
 of a common Bravo, but who ha's been long watch- 
 ed, in vain, by the authorities, with the hope of de- 
 tecting him in the Commission of some one of the 
 aforesaid horrible assassinations ; now, all good arid 
 honest citizens of the republic are enjpiried to assist 
 the authorities in seizing the person bf the said Ja- 
 copo Frontohi, even though he should take sanctua- 
 ry : for Venice can no longer endure the presence 
 of one of his sanguinary habits, and for the encour- 
 agement of the same, the senate, in its piaternal care, 
 offers the reward of three hundred sequins." The 
 usual words of prayer atid sovereignty closed the 
 proclamation. 
 
 As it was not usual for those who ruled so much 
 in the dark, to make their intentions public, all near 
 listened, with wonder and awe, to the novel proce- 
 dure. Some trembled, lest the mystei'ious and 
 Vnuch-dreaded po^er was about to exhibil itself, 
 
THB SRAVO. 'i03 
 
 while most found means of making theh* adnnration 
 of the fatherly interest of their rulers audible. 
 
 None heard the words of the officer with more 
 feeling than Gelsomina. She bent her body ikr 
 from the window, in order that not a syllaUe should 
 escape her. 
 
 " Did'st thou hear, Carlo ?" demanded the eager 
 girl, as she drew back her head ; " they proclkiM, at 
 last, money for the fnonster who has committed so 
 many murders I" 
 
 Jacopo laughed; but to the ears of his siartled 
 companion the sounds were unnatural. 
 
 "The patricians are just, and what they do is 
 right," he said. " They are of illustrious birth, aiid 
 cannot err ! They will do their duty." 
 
 " But here is no other duty than that they owe to 
 God, and to the people." 
 
 " I have heard of the duty of the people, but little 
 is said of the senate's." 
 
 " Nay, Carlo, we will not refuse them credit when 
 in truth they seek to keep the citizens from harm. 
 This Jacopo is a monster, detested 'bj'all, and his 
 bloody deeds have too long been a reproach to 
 •Venice. Thou hearesfthat the patricians are hot 
 niggard of their gold, when there is hope of his being 
 taken.' — Listen! they proclaim again!" 
 
 The trumpet sounded, and the proclamation was 
 repeated between the granitecolumnsof thePiazietta, 
 and quite near to the wimlow occupied by Gelsomina 
 and her unmoved companion. 
 
 « Why dost thou mask, Cario ?*' she asked. When 
 tlie officer had done ; " it is not usual to be disguised, 
 in the palace, at this hour." 
 
 " They will believe it the doge, bliishing to be an 
 duditor of his own liberal justicfe, or they may mis- 
 take me for one of the Three, itself." 
 
 " They go by the quay to the arsenal ; thence tii^ 
 wdl take boat, as is customary, ftwr the Rialto/* 
 26 
 
404 THE BRAVO. 
 
 "Thereby giyiiigcthis redoubtable Jacopo timely 
 notice to secrete hitnself! Your judges up above are 
 mysterious when they should be open, and open when 
 they should be- secret. I must quit thee, Gielsomina , 
 go, then, back: to th^ room of, thy father, and leave 
 me to pass out by the court of the palace." 
 
 " It may not be. Carlo — thou knoweist the permis 
 sion of the authorities — I have exceeded — why should 
 [ wish to conceal it from thee — ^but, it was not per 
 mitted to thee to enter at this hour." 
 
 " And-thou hast .had the courageto transgress the 
 leave, for my sake, Gelsomina?" 
 
 The abashed girl hung her head, and the color 
 which glowed about her temples was like the rosy 
 light of her o\yn Italy, 
 
 " Thou would'st have it so," she said. 
 
 " A thousand thanks, dearest, kindest, truest Gel- 
 ^omina ; but doubt not my being able to leave the 
 palace unseen. The danger was in entering." They 
 who go forth, do it with tlie air of having authority." 
 
 " None pass the halberdiers masked by day. Carlo, 
 but they wh^'have the secret word." 
 
 The Bravo appeared struck with this truth, and 
 there was great embarrassment expressed in his 
 manner. The terms of his admittance were so well 
 understood to himself, that he distrusted the expedi- 
 ency of attempting to get upon the quays by the 
 prison, the way he had entered, since he had "little 
 4oubt that his retreat would be intercepted by those 
 who kept the outer gate, and who were probably, by 
 this time, in the secret of his true character. It now 
 appeared that egress by the other route was eiiually 
 hazardous. He had not been surprised so much by 
 the substance of the proclamation, as by the publicity 
 the senate had seen fit to give to its policy, — and he 
 had heard himself denounced, with a severe pang, 
 it is true, but without terror. Still he had so many 
 means of disguise, and the practice of personal con 
 
THE BRAVO. 40* 
 
 cealment was so general in Venice, that he nad en- 
 tertained no great distrust of the result until he now 
 found hlmselfin this awkward dilemma. Gelsomina 
 read his indecision in his eye, and regretted that she 
 should have caused him so much uneasiness. 
 
 " It is not so bad as thou seemest to think, Carlo, ' 
 she observed ; " they have permitted thee to visit thy 
 father, at stated hours, and the permission is a proof 
 that the senate is not without pity. Now that I, to 
 oblige thy wishes, have forgotten one of their in- 
 junctions, they will not be so hard of heart as to 
 visit the fault as a crime." 
 
 Jacopo gazed at her with pity, for well did he 
 understand how little she knew of the real nature 
 and wily policy of the state. 
 
 " It is time that we should part," he said, " lest 
 thy innocence should be made to pay the price of 
 my mistake. I am now near the public corridor, 
 and must trust to my fortune to gain the quay." 
 
 Grelsomina hung upon his arm, unwilling to trust 
 him to his own guidance in that fearful building. 
 
 " It will not do. Carlo ; thou wilt stumble on a 
 •soldier, and thy fault will be known ; perhaps they 
 will refuse to let thee come again ; perhaps alto- 
 gether shut the door of thy poor father's cell." 
 
 Jacopo made a gesture for her to lead the way, 
 and followed. With a beating but still lightened 
 heart, Gelsomina glided along the passages, care- 
 fully locking each door, as of wont, behind her, 
 when she had passed through it. At length thev 
 reached the well-known Bridge of Sighs. The 
 anxioufe girl went on with a lighter step, when she 
 found herself approachipg her own abode, for she 
 was busy in planning the means of concealing hei 
 companion in her father's rooms, should there be 
 hazard in his passing out of the prison during the 
 day. 
 '• "But a single minute. Carlo," she whispered, ap 
 
4|06 "Wf.. BRAVO. 
 
 r'vipg th^ key.to.th^ door wJiifil^ o^Hgi int^, the 
 latter buildjng — the Ipck yielded^ bi^t the. hinges re- 
 fused to turn. Gel^pmina pa;led 3,8 she added — 
 " They havje drawn the bolfs, within !" 
 
 " No ipat^er ; I will go dpwii, by the court of the 
 palace, and boldly pass the halberdier utitp^ked^" 
 
 Gelspmina, after all, saw but little risj^ of his be-, 
 ing.kppwn by t}ie xnerce^aries whp serysd-the doge, 
 and, arjxfous to reliey;e,him from so awtk,Yv4rdja po-. 
 sition, she flew back to the, other end of the gall^ , 
 ry. jAnp,tlj^r key was £|,pplied to the door by which, 
 they had just entered, with the same result. Ge}». 
 spmina, staggered ba^k, and sought support ogaiQst 
 the wall- 
 
 "We can neither return nor proceed!" she ex- 
 claimed, frightened she knew not why. 
 
 " I see it all," answered Jacopo, " wC; are prisonr. 
 ers on the fatal bridge." 
 
 As he, spok^, the Bravo calrnly removed; his mask 
 and, showed the countenahce,of a man whose reso- 
 lution was at its height. 
 
 " Santa Madre di Dio! what can it mean ?" , 
 
 " That we have pasised, here once tpo often, love. 
 Th^ coupcil is tender of these visits," 
 
 The bolts of both doors grated, and the hinges 
 ,;rpiaked at the same instant. An officer of the in- 
 quisition entered armed, and bearing mansiples. Gel- 
 somina shrieked, but Jacopo mpvpcl not limb or 
 muscle, while he was fettered and chained. 
 
 " I too !" cried his frantic companion., " I am the 
 most guilty — bind me-^past me into a, cdl, but let 
 poor Carlo go," 
 
 '? Carlo!'' echoed an officer, laughing unfeelingly 
 
 "Is it,suph,a crime to seek a fatner in, his prison!. 
 They knew of his visits-^th^y permitted them — he 
 h^^,only.mistali;en th?(lioi|rf" ,, 
 
 " Girl, dost thou know for whom thou pleadest?" 
 'FQ5.,tli,?,^ijndest hpai^tr- the mpstfaij^fijl^g|i.in 
 
THE BRAVa 409 
 
 Venice ! Oh 1 if ye had seen him weep as I ha ve 
 done, oyer the sufferings of the old captive — if ye 
 ha*' seen his very form shivering in agony, ye would 
 have pity on him !" 
 
 " Listen ;" retur^d the officer, raising a finger 
 for attention. 
 
 The trumpeter spqnded on the bridge of St. 
 Mark, immediately beneath them, and proclamation 
 was again ma4e, off^png gold for the arrest of the 
 Bravo. 
 
 " 'Tis the officer of the republic, bidding for the 
 head of one who carries a common stiletto," cried 
 the half-breathless Gelsomina, who little heeded the 
 ceremony at that instant ; " he merits his fate. 
 
 "Thpn why resist it?" 
 
 "Ye speak vfithout^meaning!" 
 
 " Doting girl, this is Jacopo Frontoni !" 
 
 Gelsomma would have disbelieyed her ears, but 
 for the anguished expression of Jacopo's eye. Th 
 horrible truth burst upon her mind, and she fell life 
 iess. At that momept the Bravo was hurried fron 
 the bridge. 
 
 CHAPTER XXVin, 
 
 "Let us lift. up the curtain, and observe 
 What passes in that chamber." 
 
 ROGDIS. 
 
 There were many rumors, uttered in the fearful 
 ai^d secrett manner which characterized the man- 
 ners of the town, in the street^ of Venice tnat day. 
 Hundreds passed near the granite columns, as if 
 they expected to see the Bravo occupying his ac- 
 oustomed ^and, in audacious defiance of thie pro- 
 
408 THE BRAVO. 
 
 clamation, foi' so long and so mysteriously, had he 
 been permitted to appear in public, that men had 
 difficulty in persuading themselves he would quit 
 his habits so easily. It is needless to say that the 
 vague expectation was disappoitated. Much was 
 also said, vauntingly, in beh&lf of the republic's jus- 
 tice, for the humbled are bold enough in praising 
 their superitors ; and he, who had been dunib for 
 ye'a^Sj On subjects of a public nature, now found his 
 voice like a fearless freeman. 
 
 But the day {>assed away without any new oc- 
 currence to call ' the citizens from their pursuits. 
 The prayers for the dead were continued, with lit- 
 tle intermission, and masses were said before the 
 altars of half the churches, for the repose of the 
 fisherman's soul. His comrades, a little distrustful, 
 but greatly gratified, watched the ceremonies with 
 jealousy and exultation singularly blended, ^re 
 the night set in, again, they were among the most 
 obedient of those the oligarchy habitually trod upon; 
 for such is the effect of this species of domination, 
 that it acquires a power to appease,, by its flattery, 
 the very discontents, created by its injustice.- Such 
 is the human mind : a factitious but deeply-seated 
 sentiment of respect is created by the habit of sub- 
 mission, which gives the subject of its influence a 
 feeling of atonement, when he who has long played 
 the superior corn^s'down from his stilts, and con- 
 fesses the community of human fi^ilties ! 
 
 The square of St. Mark filled at the usual hour 
 the patricians deserted the Broglio as of wont, and 
 the gaities of the place were again uppermost, be- 
 fore the clock had struck the second hour of the 
 night. Gondolas, filled with noble dataes, appeared 
 on the canals ; the blinds of the palaces were raised 
 for the admission of the sea-breeze; — and music 
 began to be heard in the port, on the bridges, and 
 under the balconies of the fair. The course of so 
 
tHt braVo iOSf 
 
 iety was not to be atrested, merel5^ bdCaiisg th^ 
 wronged were unavenged, or the iniiort^ht Suffered. 
 
 There stood, then, on the grand ciinal, as ther^ 
 tdhd how, ntdiiy palaces of scarcely less th^n royal 
 lagnificence. The reader has had occasioh to be- 
 ome acquainted With oii€i or two oi these splendid 
 difices, and it has now become oiur duty to cffa^e^ 
 im, in imagination, to another. 
 
 Thfe p^cmiilrlty 6i construction, which is k con- 
 equence of the watery site of Vehite, gives the 
 Sftid ^tlrieral character to all the superior dwellings 
 f that remarkable town. The homH tO which thei 
 ffre^d of the narrative now leads us, had its Water- 
 late, its vestibule, it^ massive marble stair^, its 
 iner court; its magnificent suites of rooms above. 
 Is pictures, its lustres, and its floors of precious 
 tonjBs embedded in composition, likes all those which 
 (Tfe have already found it ftecessstry to describe. 
 
 The hour was ten, ticcording to our own mannef 
 if computing time. A small, but lovely family pic- 
 ure presented itself, deep within the walls of thieS 
 atrician abode, to which we have alluded. Ther6 
 i^as a father, a gentleman who had scarce attained 
 fie middle age, with an eye in which spirit, intelli- 
 ;ence, philanthropy, and, at that Moment, baternat 
 jndftess were equally glowing. He tossed in his 
 rms, with parental pride, a laughing urchin of 
 flme three or four years, whp rioted in the amuse 
 lent which brought him, and the author of his be- 
 ig, for a time, seemingly on a level. A fair Vene- 
 an dame, with golden locks, and glowing cheeks, 
 [ich as Titiati loved to paint her sex, reclined on a 
 ouch nigh by, following the movements of both, 
 dth.the joint feelings of mother and wife, and 
 lughing in pure sympiBlthy \vith the noisy merri- 
 lent of her young hope. A girl, who was the 
 BtithM iniage of herself, with tresses that fell to 
 JF waist, romped with a crowing infant, whosfe' 
 2M 
 
410 THE BRAVO. 
 
 age was so tender as scarcely to admit the uncer- 
 tain evidence of its intelligence. Such was the 
 scene as the clock of the piazza told the hour 
 Struck with the sound, the father set down the boy 
 and consulted his watch. 
 
 " Dost thou use thy gondola to-night, love 1 ' he 
 demanded. * 
 
 "With thee, Paolo?" 
 
 " Not with me, dearest ; I have affairs which wiL 
 employ me until twelve ! " 
 
 " Nay, thou art given to cast me off, when thy 
 caprices are wayward." 
 
 " Say not so. I have named to-night for an in- 
 terview with my agent, and I know thy maternal 
 heart too well, to doubt thy being willing to spare 
 me for that time, while I look to the interests of 
 these dear ones." 
 
 The Donna Giulietta rang for her mantle and at- 
 tendants. The crowing infant and the noisy boy 
 were dismissed to their beds, while the lady and the 
 eldest child descended to the gondola. Donna Giu- 
 lietta was not permitted to go unattended to her 
 boat, for this was a family in which the inclinations 
 had fc'.unately seconded the ordinary calculations 
 of interest, when the nuptial knot was tied. Her 
 husband kissed her hand, fondly, as he assisted her 
 into the gondola, and the boat had glided some dis- 
 tance from the palace, ere he quitted the moist 
 stones of the water-gate. 
 
 " Hast thou prepared the cabinet for my friends?" 
 demanded the Signor Soranzo, for it was the same 
 senator who had been in company with the doge, 
 when the latter went to meet the fishermen. 
 
 " Signore, si." 
 
 '• And the quiet, and the lights — as ordered?" 
 
 ' Eccellenza, all will be done." 
 
 " Thou hast placed seats for six — we shall be 
 
 •IX." 
 
THE BRAVO. 411 
 
 " Signore, there are six armed chairs." 
 
 " 'Tis well : when the first of my friends arrive 
 1 will join them." 
 
 " Eccellcnza, there are already two cavaliers in 
 masks, within." 
 
 The Signer Soranzo started, again consulted his 
 watch, and went hastily towards a distant, and very 
 silent, part of the palace. He reached a small door 
 unattended, and, closing it, found himself at once 
 in the presence of fhose who evidently awaited his 
 appearance. 
 
 " A thousand pardons, Signori," cried the master 
 of the house; "this is novel duty to me, at least 
 — I know not what may be your honorable expe- 
 rience — and the time stole upon me unmarked. I 
 pray for grace, Messires ; future diligence shall re- 
 pair the present neglect." 
 
 Both tne visitors were older men than their host, 
 and it was quite evident by their hardened visages 
 they were of much longer practice in the world. 
 His excuses were received with courtesy, and, for 
 a little time, the discourse was entirely of usage and 
 convention. 
 
 " We are in secret here, Signore?" asked one of 
 the guests, after some little time had been wasted in 
 this manner. 
 
 " As the tomb. None enter here unbidden, but 
 my wife, and she has, this moment, taken boat, for 
 better enjoyment of the evening." 
 
 "The world gives you credit, Signor Soranzo, 
 for a happy manage. I hope you have duly consid- 
 ered the necessity of shutting the door, even against 
 the Donna Giulietta to-night?" 
 
 " Doubt me not, Signore ; the affairs of St Mark 
 are paramount." 
 
 " I feel myself thrice happy, Signori, that in draw- 
 ing a lot for the secret council, my good fortune 
 bath given me so excellent colleagues. Believe me, 
 
4ia THE BRAVO. 
 
 [ have discharged this awful trust, ift my diy, in 
 ess agreeable company." 
 
 This flattering speech, which the Wily old senator 
 had made regularly to all with whom chance had 
 associated him in the inquisition, during a long life, 
 was well received, and it was returned with etJUal 
 compliments. 
 
 " It Would appear that the worthy Signor Ales- 
 sandro Gradenigoi was one of our predecessors," h© 
 continued, looking at some papers 5 for though the 
 actual three were unknown, at the time being, to alU 
 but a few Secretaries and officers of the state^ Ve- 
 netian policy transmitted their names to thdr Sucs- 
 cessors, ds a matter of ciourse,-^' a noble gehtle- 
 many and one of great devotion to the state ! " 
 
 The others assented, like men acdtistomed to speak 
 with caution. 
 
 " We Were about to have entered on our duties 
 at a troublesome moment, Sigriori," observed an- 
 other. " But it would seem thai this tumult of the 
 fishermen has already subsided. I understand the 
 knaves had some reason for their distrust of the 
 state!" 
 
 "It is an affair happily settled," answered the 
 senior of the three, who was long practised in the 
 expediency of forgetting all that policy required 
 should C/Case to be remembered, after the object was 
 attained- " The galleys must be manned, else would 
 St. Mark quickly hang, bis head in shame." 
 
 The Signor Soraiizo, who had received .some 
 previous instruction in his new duties, looked melan- 
 choly; but he, too, was merely the creature of a 
 system. 
 
 " Is there matter of pressing import for out re- 
 flection 1 " he demanded. 
 
 " Signori, there is every reason to believe thai the 
 state has just sustained a grievous loss. Ye both 
 well know the heiress of Tiepolo,, by reputation a» 
 
THK BHAVO. 418 
 
 iwit, though her retired manner of life may have 
 kept you from her company." 
 
 " Donna Giulietta is eloquent in praise of her beait 
 ty ;" said the young husband. 
 
 " We had not a better fortune in Vienice," rejoined 
 the third inquisitor, 
 
 "Excellent in qualities, and better in riches, as 
 she is, I fear we have lost her, Signori I Don Ca- 
 tnillo Monforte, whpm God protect until we have ho 
 future use for his influence ! hod come near to pre- 
 vail against us ; but just as the state bafllcd his well- 
 laid schemes, the lady has been thrown by hazard 
 into the hands of the rioters, since which time ther^ 
 is no account of her movements!" 
 
 Paolo Soransp secretly hoped she was in the 
 arms of the Neapolitan, 
 
 " A secretary has communicated to me the dis- 
 appearance of the Dupa di Sant' Agata,-also," ob- 
 served the third.-^" nor is the felucca, usually em- 
 ployed in distajit and delicate missions, any longer 
 at her anchors." 
 
 The two old men regarded each other, as if the 
 truth was beginning to dawn upon their suspicions. 
 They saw that the case was hopeless, and as theirs 
 was altogether a practical duty, no time was lost in 
 useless regrets. 
 
 " We have two affairs which press," observed the 
 ^Ider. — " The body of the old fisherman must be 
 Iftid quietly in the earth, with as little risk of future 
 tumult, as may be — and we have this notorious Ja- 
 copo to dispose of." 
 
 " The latter must first be taken ;" said the Sigiioi 
 Soranzo. 
 
 " That has been done already. Would you think 
 It, Sirs ! he was seized in the very palace of the 
 aoge!" 
 
 »• To the block with him, without aelay !" 
 
 Thd old men again looked at each other, and tf 
 2M2 
 
414 THE BRAVO. 
 
 was quite apparent that, as both of them had been 
 in previous councils, they had a secret intelhgence, 
 to which their companion was yet a stranger 
 There was also visible in their glances, something 
 like a design to manage his feelings, before they 
 came more openly to the graver practices of their 
 duties. 
 
 " For the sake of blessed St. Mark, Signon, let 
 justice be done openly in this instance!" continued 
 the unsuspecting member of the Three. "What 
 pity can the bearer of a common stiletto claim ? and 
 what more lovely exercise of our authority than to 
 make pubUc an act of severe and much-requited 
 justice?" 
 
 The old senators bowed to this sentiment of their 
 colleague, which was uttered with the fervor of 
 young experience, and the frankness of an upright 
 mind; for there is a conventional acquiescence in 
 received morals, which is permitted, in semblance at 
 least, to adorn the most tortuous. 
 
 " It may be well, Signore Soranzo, to do this 
 homage to the right," returned the elder. " Here 
 have been sundry charges found in different lions' 
 mouths, against the Neapolitan, Signer Don Camillo 
 Monforte. I leave it to your wisdom, my illustrious 
 colleagues, to decide on their character." 
 
 "An excess of malice betrays its own origin," 
 exclaimed the least-practised member of the Inqui- 
 sition. "My life on it, Signori, these accusations 
 come of private spleen, and are unworthy of the 
 stale's attention. I have consorted much with the 
 young lord of Sant' Agata, and a more worthy gen- 
 tleman does not dwell among us." 
 
 " Still hath he designs on the hand of old Tiepolo's 
 daughter ! " 
 
 " Is it a crime in youth to seek beauty ? He did 
 great service to the lady, in her need, and that youth 
 gh'ould feel these sympathies is nothing strange." 
 
THE BRAVO 415 
 
 •* Venice hath her sympathies, as well as the 
 jroungest of us all, Signore." 
 
 *• But Venice cannot wed the heiress!" 
 
 " True. St. Mark must be satisfied with playing 
 the prudent father's part. You are yet young, Sig- 
 nore Soranzo, and the Donna Giulietta is of rare 
 beauty ! As life wears upon ye both, ye will see the 
 fortunes of kingdoms, as well as families, differently. 
 But we waste our breath uselessly in this matter, 
 since our agents have not yet reported their success 
 in the pursuit. The most pressing affair, just now, 
 is the disposition of the Bravo. Hath his highness 
 shown you the letter of the sovereign pontiff", in the 
 question of the intercepted dispatches, Signore?" 
 
 " He hath. A fair answer was returned by our 
 predecessors, and it must rest there." 
 
 "We will then look freely into the matter of 
 Jacopo Frontoni. There will be necessity of our 
 assembling in the chamber of the Inquisition, that 
 we may have the prisoner confronted to his accusers. 
 'Tis a grave trial, Signori, and Venice would lose in 
 men's estimation, were not the highest tribunal to 
 take an interest in its decision." 
 
 " To the block with the villain !" again exclaimed 
 the Signor Soranzo. 
 
 " He may haply meet with that fate, or even with 
 the punishment of the wheel. A mature examina- 
 tion will enlighten us much on the course, which 
 policy may dictate." 
 
 " There can be but one policy when the protection 
 of the hves of our citizens is in question. I have 
 never before felt impatience to shorten the life of 
 man, but in this trial I can scarce brook delay." 
 
 " Your honorable impatience shall be gratified, 
 Signor Soranzo ; for, foreseeing the urgency of the 
 case, my colleague, the worthy senator, who is join- 
 ed with us in this high duty, and myself, have already 
 issued the commands necessary to that object The 
 
^16 TIP5 Bli^yo 
 
 hour is near, and Wi§ will repair tp the ^j)^jjn|)ej of 
 the Inquisition in' time to our duty." 
 
 The disRQurse then turned pri subjects of a more 
 general cpncern. Thjs secret and extracjrdinary 
 tribunal, which was obliged to confine itg mpetii^ga 
 to no particular place, ■vvhich could 4fipi4p ftO its 
 decrees equally in the ftazza, or th^ p^lficp,^ ^RlifJst 
 the reyejries pfthe masquerade, pr bsfpr/^ t}^ t^?-^ 
 in the asseniblies of |he gay, or in their p-yvQ ^Ic^sg^s, 
 had of necessity much ordinary matte^- gq{)i^ittef} to 
 jts inspection. As the chances pf birth eiitergt^ into 
 its original composition, — arjd pod hatp npt V(]^^o 
 fill alike fit for so heartless a duty, — it sorq€|tirfles 
 liappened, as in the present in^tarjce, that t\ie, more 
 worldly pf its members had iq overcome the gener- 
 ous disposition of g, colleague, before the aptic^i} pf 
 the terrible machine could go pn. 
 
 It is worthy of remark, that cornmunities always 
 establish a higher sta.ndard of justice £ip4 trutlj, than 
 is exercised by their individual members, Thp rea- 
 son is r|pt to be sought for, sippp natures \ii^\h left io 
 all a perception of that right, ^niph is abandoned 
 only under the stronger impulses of persong.1 tempt- 
 ation. We commend the virtue we cannot imitate. 
 Thus it is that those countries, in which public opinion 
 has most influence, are ^iM'ays of tljp purest pubUc 
 practice. It follows as ^ corollary frpm this propo- 
 sitipn, that a representation should be as re^l as pos- 
 sible, for its tendency will be inevitably to elevate 
 national morals. Miserab}^. in^ee(l, is the condition 
 of that people, vvhose fpeixipfig and ntieasures of public 
 policy are below the standaij-d 9f its private integri- 
 ty, for the fact not only proves it is not the, master 
 pf its own destinies, but the still more dangerous 
 truth, that the collective power is employed ip the 
 fatal service of undermining those very quali^iess 
 \jFhich are necessary to virtue, and which have 
 enough tpdo> at all times, in resisting the e^ttack^ ipif 
 
THE BRAVO. 417 
 
 ttnmediate selfishness. A strict legal representation 
 of all its interests is far more necessary to a worldly 
 than to a simple people, since responsibility, which 
 is the essence of a fjee government, is more likely 
 to keep the agents of a nation near to its own stand- 
 ard of virtue than any other means. The common 
 opinion that a republic cannot exist, without an ex- 
 traordinary degree of virtue in its citizens, is so flat- 
 tering to our own actual condition, that we seldom 
 take the trouble to inquire into its truth ; but, to us, 
 it seems quite apparent that effect is here mistakeu 
 for the cause. It is said, as the people are virtually 
 masters in a republic, that the people ought to be 
 virtuous to rule well. So far as this proposition is 
 confined to degrees, it is just as true of a republic as 
 of any other form of government. But kings dc 
 rule, and surely all have not been virtuous ; and that 
 aristocracies have ruled with the very minimum of 
 that quality, the subject of our tale sufficiently shows. 
 That, other things being equal, the citizens of a re- 
 public will have a higher standard of private virtue 
 than the subjects of any other form of government, 
 is true as an effect, we can readily believe, for re- 
 sponsibility to public opinion existing in all the 
 branches of its administration, that conventional 
 morality, which characterizes the common senti- 
 ment, will be left to act on the mass, and will not be 
 perverted into a terrible engine of corruption, as is 
 the case when factitious institutions give a false 
 direction to its influence. 
 
 The case before us was in proof of the truth of 
 what has here been said. The Signor Soranzo 
 was a man of great natural excellence of charac- 
 ter, and the charities of his domestic circle had as 
 sisted in confirming his original dispositions. Like 
 others of his rank and expectations, he had, from 
 time to time, made the history and polity of the 
 self-styled republic his study, and the power of o.ol 
 
#18 ■ THt: BU;^VU 
 
 Ipctiye iiiterfists, and specious iieaessi^ljies li^fi ij3i.ade 
 him admit sundry theories, which, p^esei^ted in an- 
 other form, he wuuld have repulsed, with i^digna^ 
 tion. Still the Signer Soranzo was far from under- 
 standing the full effects of that systeip, which he 
 Vvas born to uphold. Even Venice paid that homage 
 to public opinion, of whicJitherCi has jyst been. ques- 
 tion, an;d helid forth to th,^ Yfprld ^ut ^ fal^ picture 
 of ti,ftr. true state maxims. Still many, of thpsje which 
 were toft appa.ren^ to be concealed were difficult 
 o^ acceptance, with one whose iin.in4 was y^ un- 
 tainted vfitti practice ; and the young senator rather 
 shui; h|is. eyes, on. their tendency, pr,, as he felt the.ix 
 infl,uence in every iiiterest which, environed him, 
 ^t ijhat of poor, neglected, abstract virtue, whose 
 Rewards were so, remote, he was faiiji to seek out 
 some palliative, or spijne specipus and indirect good 
 as the excuse for bis acquiescence. 
 
 Ifli this state pf o^ind the Signor Spranzp was un- 
 §j^pectedly admitted a member ojf the Council of 
 Three. Often, in the d^y-dxeamsi af his youth, had 
 he coptemplated the possession of thas: very irre- 
 sponsible power as the consummation, of htsj wishes. 
 ^ thpusand pictures of the. good h? wouldi perform 
 had crossed his brain, and it was only as he, adr 
 vanced in life, and came tp have a near view of the 
 ■\friles which beset the best-intentioned, that he could 
 luring himself to believe most of that which he med- 
 itated was impracticable. As it was, he entered 
 into the council with doubts and misgivings. Had 
 J}e lived in a later age, under his own system modi- 
 fied by the knowledge which has been a conse- 
 uuence of the art of printing, it is probable that the 
 pjgnor Soranzo would have been a noble in oppo- 
 tijtion, now supporting with aidor some measure of 
 public benevolence, and now yielding, gracefully, to 
 the suggestions of a sterner policy, and always in- 
 fluenced by the positive advantages he wa§,bprn.to 
 
TOE BRAVO. 410 
 
 poBMSB, though scarcely conscious hunself he was 
 not all he professed to be. The fault, however, was 
 not so much that of the patrician as that of'circum- 
 stances, which, by placing intensst in opposition to 
 duty, lures many a benevolent mind into still greater 
 weaknesses. 
 
 The companions of the Signer Soranzo, how 
 ever, had a more difficult task to prepare him for 
 the duties of the statesman, which were so very 
 different from thos6 he was accustomed to perform 
 as a man, than they had anticipated. They were 
 hke two trained elephants of the east, possessing 
 themselves all the finer instincts and generous qual- 
 ities of the noble animal, but disciplined by a force 
 quite foreign to their natural condition into crea- 
 tures of mere convention, placed one on each side 
 of a younger brother, firesh from the plains, and 
 whom it was their duty to teach new services for 
 the trunk, new aiiections, and haply the manner in 
 which to carry, with dignity, the howdah of a 
 R^ah. 
 
 With many allusions to their poMcy, but with no 
 direct intimation of their own intention, the seniors 
 of the council continued the conversation, until the 
 hour for the meeting in the doge's palace drew 
 nigli. They then separated, as privately as they 
 had come together, in order that no vulgar eye 
 might penetrate the mystery of their official char- 
 acter. 
 
 The most practised of the three appeared in an 
 assembly of the patricians, which noble and beautio 
 ful dames graced with their presence, from which 
 he disappeared in a manner to leave no clue to his 
 nnotions. The other visited the death-bed of a 
 friend, where he discoursed long and wfeU, with a 
 friar, of the immortality of the soul and the hopes 
 «f a Christian s when he departed, the godiy nan 
 2-? 
 
420 THE BRAVO 
 
 bestowing his blessing, and the family he left being 
 loud and eloquent in his praise. 
 
 The Signer Soranzo clung to the enjoyments of 
 his own family circle until the last moment. The 
 Donna Giulietta had returned, fresher and more 
 lovely than ever, from the invigorating sea-breeze, 
 and her soft voice, with the melodious laugh of his 
 first-born, the blooming, ringlet-covered girl de- 
 scribed, still rang in his ears, when his gondoliei 
 landed him beneath the bridge of the RialtOi Here 
 he masked, and drawing his cloak about him, he 
 moved with the current towards the square of St. 
 Mark, by means of the narrow streets. Once in 
 the crowd, there was little dafiger of impertinent 
 observation. Disguise was as often useful to the 
 oligarchy of Venice, as it was absolutely necessary 
 to elude its despotism, and to render the town tol- 
 erable to the citizen. Paolo saw swarthy, bare- 
 legged men of the Lagunes entering occasionally 
 into the cathedral. He followed, and found him- 
 self standing near the dimly-lighted altar, at which 
 masses were still saying for the soul of Antonio. 
 
 " This is one of thy fellows?" he asked of a fish- 
 erman, whose dark eye ghttered in that light, like 
 the organ of a basilisk.. 
 
 " Signore, he was — ^a more honest, or a more 
 just man, did not cast his net in the gulf." 
 
 " He has fallen a victim to his craft?" 
 
 " Cospetto di Bacco ! none know in what mannei 
 he came by his end,' Some say St. Mark was im- • 
 patient to see him in paradise, and some pretend, 
 he has fallen by the hand of a common Bravo 
 named Jacopo Frontoni." 
 
 " Why should a Bravo take the life of one like 
 this?" • 
 
 "By having the goodness to answer your owd 
 question, Signore, you will spare me some trouble. 
 Why should he, sure enough ? They say Jacopo is 
 
THE BRAVO 421 
 
 evengeful, and that shame and anger at his defeat 
 in the late regatta by one old as this, was the rea- 
 son." 
 
 " Is he so jealous of his honor with the oar 1 " 
 
 " Diamine ! I have seen the time when Jacopo 
 would sooner die, than lose a race ; but that w.is 
 before he carried a stiletto. Had he kept to his 
 oar, the thine might have happened, but once known 
 for the hired blow, it seems unreasonaole he should 
 set his heart so strongly on the prizes of the canals." 
 
 " May not the man have fallen into the Lagunes, 
 by accident?" ^ 
 
 " No doubt, Signore. This happens to some of 
 us daily; but then we think it wiser to swim to the 
 boat, than to sink. Old Antonio had an arm in 
 youth, to carry him from the quay to the Lido." 
 
 " But he may have been struck in falling, and 
 rendered unable to do himself this good office." 
 
 " There would be marks to show this, were it 
 true, Signore I" 
 
 " Would not Jacopo have used the stiletto ?" 
 
 " Perhaps not, on one like Antonio. The gondola 
 of the old man was found in the mouth of the 
 Grand Canal, half a league from the body, and 
 against the wind! we note these things, Signore 
 for they are within our knowledge." 
 
 ■• A happy night to thee, fisherman." 
 
 " A most happy night, eccellenza ;" said the la- 
 borer of the Lagunes, gratified with having so long 
 occupied the attention of one he rightly believed so 
 much his superior. The disguised senator passed 
 on. He had no difficulty in quitting the cathedral 
 unobserved, and he had his private means of enter- 
 ing the palace, without attracting any impertinent 
 eye to his movements. Here he quickly joined Ilia 
 colleagues of the fearful tribiuial. 
 3N 
 
i33 THE URAVa 
 
 OMAVT^B, XXIX 
 
 " There the prisoners rest togeljier ; they hear not the voice of 
 .he opprcBsor." Job, 
 
 Turn msiniier in which the Council of Three peld 
 its more piibUe meetings, if aught connected with 
 thut mysterious body could be called puWic, has ali- 
 ready heea seen. On the present occasion, there 
 were the same robes, the same disguises, and the 
 same oficers of the inquisition, a.s in the scene re- 
 la,ted in a previous chapter. The only change was 
 \n the character of the judges, and in that of the 
 accused. By a peculiar arrangement of the lamp, 
 too, most pf the light was thrown upon the spot it 
 was intended the prisoner should occupy, while the 
 sjde of the apartment jon which the inquisitors sate, 
 was left in a dimness that well accorded with their 
 gloomy and secret duties. Previously to the open- 
 ing of the door, by whicJt the person to be examin- 
 ed was to appear, there was audible the clanking 
 of chains, the certain evidence that the affair in 
 hand was considered serious. The hinges turned, 
 and the Bravo stood in presence of those unknown 
 men who were to decide on his fate. 
 
 As Jacopo had often been before the council, 
 though not as a prisoner, he betrayed neither sur- 
 prise nor alarm at the black aspect of all his eye 
 belield. His features were composed though pale, 
 his limbs immovable, and his mien decent. When 
 the, little bustle of his entrance had subsided, there 
 reigned a stillness in the room. 
 
 'fThou art called Jacopo FrontonU" said thja. 
 secretary, who acted as the mouth-pjece of the 
 Three, on this occasion. 
 
 " T %m." 
 
nic; BRAVO. 433 
 
 ^ " Tt>QU ^T\ thft spin of a certain Rio^rdo Fronto- 
 ni, a man well known as having been conoemed in 
 robbing the rep^bli<;'s customs, and \vho istitought 
 lo have been, t).9,nished to the dist^iPt islands, or to 
 be otherwise punished ? " 
 
 " Signore — (fx otherwise pt<ni?hqd." 
 
 " Thou wert q, gondolier ii?, iisy youth'?" 
 
 " I was a gondolier." 
 
 " Thy mother is^ " 
 
 " l3ead ;" §aid Jacopo, perceiving the Ql^er paw- 
 ^ to examine his notes. 
 
 The depth of the tone, is which tbjs word w«a 
 uttered, caused a silence, that the seor^ry did not 
 interrupt, unld he had thrown 9 gkuiQ^ h%akward 
 at the judges. 
 
 " She was not accused of thy father's crime ? " 
 
 " Had she been, Signore, ?he is \o^ since beyond 
 the po\j(er of the republic." 
 
 " Shortly after tJtiY father feljr under thei displeii- 
 sure of the state, tnov^ qiutted$t ifty bu^ines.^ of a 
 gondolier?" 
 
 «Sjgo,9r^Hi4." 
 
 " Thou art accused, Ja^pgp, of h%vvsig Imd aside 
 t,|j^e par for the sUletto"?" 
 
 " Signoxo, I am." 
 
 " For several years, the ruiaprs of thy bloody 
 deeds have been growing in Venice, until, of late^ 
 none have niet, with an untimely fate, tjbatt the blow 
 h^S "ot been attributed to thy ha^d t" 
 
 " This is too true, Signor Segretarips^l wpuld it 
 ytere qot !" 
 
 " The ears of his highness, Sind of the Couaotlsv 
 have not been closed to thesj? reports, but they have 
 \Qlig attended t,p tjt»ft rumors yi?ith the earnestness 
 which becomes a paternal ^d careful governme«t 
 \^ they ha,ve suiTered: thee tP. SP ^^ large, it hath 
 only been that there might be noi hazard pf sullying 
 
424 THE BRAVO. 
 
 the ermine of justice, with a premature and not suf- 
 ficiently supported judgment." 
 
 Jacopo bent his head, but without speaking. A 
 smile so wild and meaning, however, gleamed on 
 his face at this declaration, that the permanent offi- 
 cer of the secret tribunal, he who served as its or- 
 gan of communication, be wed nearly to the paper 
 he held, as it might be to li lok deeper into his docu- 
 ments. Let not the reader turn back to this page 
 in surprise, when he shall have reached the expla- 
 nation of the tale, for mysticisms quite as palpable, 
 if not of so ruthless a character, have befen publicly 
 acted by political bodies in his own times. 
 
 " There is now a specific and a frightful charge 
 brought against thee, Jacopo Frontoni," continued 
 the secretary ; " and, in tenderness of the citizen's 
 life, the dreaded council itself hath taken the matter 
 in hand. Didst thou know a certain Antonio Vec 
 chio, a fisherman here in our Lagunes?" 
 
 " Signore, I knew him well of late, and much re 
 gret that it was only of late." 
 
 " Thou knowest, too, that his body hath been 
 found, drowned in the bay?" 
 
 Jacopo shuddered, signifying his assent merely 
 by a sign. The effect of this tacit ticknowledg- 
 ment on the youngest of the three was apparent; 
 for he turned to his companions, like one struck by 
 the confession it implied. His colleagues made dig 
 nified inclinations in return, and the silent communi- 
 cation ceased. 
 
 " His death has excited discontent among his fel- 
 lows, and its cause has become a serious subject of 
 inquiry for the illustrious Council." 
 
 '• The death of the meanest man in Venice should 
 call forth the care of the patricians, Signore." 
 
 ' Dost thou know, Jacopo, that thou art accused 
 of being his murderer?" 
 
 " Signore, I do." 
 
THE BRAVU 485 
 
 "It i3f 6Md th»t thou earnest araong th« gcmdd- 
 liers in the late regatta, and that, but for this aged 
 fisherman, thou would'st have been winner of the 
 orize?" 
 
 " In that, rumor bath not lied, Sienore." 
 
 " Thou dost not, then, deny the charge !" said the 
 examiner, in evident surprise. 
 
 " It is certain that but for the fisherman, I should 
 have been the winner. 
 
 " And thou wished it, Jaoopo ? " 
 
 " Signore, gceatly;" returned the accused, with a 
 show of emotion, that bad not hitherto escaped 
 him. " I was a, man condemned of his fellows, and 
 the oar had been my pride, from childhood to that 
 hour." 
 
 Another movement of the third inquisitor betray- 
 ed, equally, his interest and his surprise. 
 
 » Dost thou confess the crime ?'' 
 
 Jacopo smiled, but more in derision than with any 
 other feeling. 
 
 » If the Sustrious senators here present will un- 
 mask, I may answer that question, haply, with greater 
 confidence ;" he said. 
 
 " Thy request is ^old and out of rule, None 
 know the persons of the patricians who preside over 
 the destinies of the state. Dost thou confess the 
 crime T" 
 
 The entrance of an officer, in some haste, pre- 
 vented a reply. The man placed a written report 
 ill the hands of the inquisitor in red, and withdrew. 
 After a short pause, the guards were ordered to re- 
 tire with their prisoner. 
 
 " Great senators !" said Jacopo, advancing earn- 
 estly towards the table, as if he would seize the 
 pioment to urge what he was about to say; — 
 •Mercy! grant me your authority to visit one in 
 the prisons, beneath the leads ! — ^I have weightv rea 
 aN2 
 
426 THE BKAVO. 
 
 sons for the wish, and I pray you, as men and fa- 
 thers, to grant it!" 
 
 The interest of the two, who were consulting 
 apart on the new intelligence, prevented them from 
 listening to what he urged. The other inquisitor, 
 who was the Signer Soranzo, had drawn near the 
 lamp, anxious to read the lineaments of one so no- 
 torious, and was gazing at his striking countenance. 
 Touched by the pathos of his voice, and agreeably 
 disappointed in the hneaments he studied, he took 
 upon himself the power to grant the request 
 
 "Humor his wish," he said to the halberdiers; 
 " but have him in readiness to reappear." 
 
 Jacopo looked his gratitude, but fearful that the 
 others might still interfere to prevent his wish, he 
 hurried from the room. 
 
 The march of the little procession, which pro- 
 ceeded from the chamber of the inquisition to the 
 summer cells of its victims, was sadly characteristic 
 of the place and the government. 
 
 It went through gloomy and secret corridors, 
 that were hid from the vulgar eye, while thin par- 
 titions only separated it from the apartments of 
 the doge, which, like the specious aspect of the 
 state, concealed the nakedness and misery within, 
 by their gorgeousness and splendor! On reach- 
 ing the attic, Jacopo stopped, and turned to his con 
 ductors. 
 
 " If you are beings of God's forming," he said, 
 " take off these clanking chains, though it be but for 
 a moment." 
 
 The keepers regarded each other in surprise, nei 
 Iher offering to do the charitable office. 
 
 " I go to visit, probably for the last time," con 
 tinued the prisoner, " a bed-ridden — I may say — a 
 dying father, who knows nothing of my situation,^ 
 will ye that he should see me thus?" 
 
 The appeal which was made, more with the voice 
 
THE BRAVO 437 
 
 and manner, than in the words, had its effect. A 
 keeper removed the chains, and bade him proceed. 
 With a caiitious tread, Jacopo advanced, and when 
 the door was opened he entered the room alone, 
 for none there had sufficient interest in an inter 
 view between a common Bravo and his father, to 
 endure the glowing warmth of the place, the while. 
 The door was closed after him, and the room be- 
 came dark. 
 
 Notwithstanding* his assumed firmness, Jacopo 
 nesitated, when he found himself so suddenly intro- 
 duced to the silent misery of the forlorn captive. 
 A hard breathing told him the situation of the 
 pallet, but the walls, which were solid on the side 
 of the corridor, effectually prevented the admission 
 of light. 
 
 " Father !" said Jacopo, with gentleness. 
 
 He got no answer. 
 
 " Father !" he repeated in a stronger voice. 
 
 The breathing became more audible, and then the 
 captive spoke. 
 
 " Holy Maria hears my prayers ! " he said feebly 
 " Grod hath sent thee,' son, to close my eyes ! " 
 
 "Doth thy strength fail thee, father?" 
 
 " Greatly — my time is come — I had hoped to see 
 the light of the day again ; to bless thy dear mother 
 and sister — God's will be done !" 
 
 " They pray for us both, father. They are be- 
 yond the power of the senate." 
 
 "Jacopo, — I do not understand thee!" 
 
 " My mother and sister are dead ; they are saints 
 in Heaven, father." 
 
 The old man groaned, for the tie of earth had 
 not yet been entirely severed. Jacopo heard him 
 murmuring a prayer, and he knelt by the side of his 
 pallet. 
 
 "This is a sudden blow!" whispered the o«d 
 man. " We depart together." 
 
•' They are long dead, father-'' 
 
 "Why hast thou nqt told me this b<;fore, Ja- 
 copo]'' 
 
 '^Hadst thou not sorrows enough without this' 
 — now that thou art about to join them, it will be 
 pleasant to know, that they have so long been 
 happy,'' _j^ 
 
 •«And thou?r^lhou wilt be alone^r^ive me thy 
 hand, — poorJacopo!" 
 
 The Bravo reached forth, and took the feeble 
 membpr of his parent ; it was clammy and cold. 
 
 "Jacopa," continued the captive, whose mind still 
 sustained the body, "I have prayed thrice within 
 the hour — once foe my own soul-^-once for the 
 peace of thy mother-rr^lastly, for thee !" 
 
 "Bless thee, father! — bless thee! — I have need 
 of prayep!" 
 
 " I have asked of God — favor in thy behalf. 1 
 have bethought mcr-^of all thy love and care — of 
 all thy devotion to my age and sufferings. When 
 thou wert a child, Jacopo — ^tenderness for thepr^- 
 tqmpted me to acts of weaknes8,-rrl trembled lest 
 thy manhood might bring upbn me — pain and re-^ 
 pentance. Thou hast not known the yearnings-^of 
 a parent for his of&pring'^but thou hast well requi- 
 ted them. Kneel, Jacopor^that I may ask of God 
 — once more, to remember thee." 
 
 " I am at thy side, father." 
 
 The old man raised his feeble arms, and with a 
 voice, whose force appeared reviving, he pronounc- 
 ed a fervent and solemn benediction, 
 
 " The blessing of a dying parent will sweeten 
 thy lileTT-rJacopo," he added, after a pause, "and 
 give peace to thy last moments." 
 
 « Jt will do the latter, father." 
 
 A rude summons at the door interrupted them. 
 
 ','Come forth Jacopo," said, a keeper ;—^" the 
 Council seeks thee 1" 
 
iaoopo felt the totitt^ve stdrt it hid father, bttfi 
 he did not answer. . ^ 
 
 « Will tlley not leave the©--* few mjtitites Ibftg- 
 ar?" whispered the old man— -"I shall not k^p 
 thee lone ! " 
 
 The doot <>p«ned, and a gleam from the {amp fell 
 on the grobp in the £ell. The keeper had the hu> 
 roftnity to shut it Ogain, leaving ftB in c^cui^ityi- 
 The ^ahce which -Jacopo obtained* hy thit pacing 
 light, was the la^t l«<:>k he had t>f hid f«the#'s coun- 
 tenance. Death was fearfully on it, but the eyes 
 were turned in unutterable affection on his owfl. 
 
 "The man is merciful — h© will not shut thee 
 oat ! " murtmired the parent. 
 
 " They cannot lesVe thee to die aiOHe, father ! " 
 
 " Sotl, I am .with my Gbi**— yet I #ould gladly 
 have thee by my side !--Didst thou Bay-'-^y mo- 
 ther and thy sister were dead?" 
 
 "Dead!" 
 
 '' Thy yoong sister, tod 1 " 
 
 " Father, both. They are saints in Heaiven." 
 
 The old man bfeathed thick, ind there was si- 
 lence. Jacopo felt a hand mdving in the darkneSS« 
 as if in quest of him. He aided the efTbrl, and laid 
 the member in reverence on his own head. 
 
 « Maria «fldefifed< and her son^ who is God ! — 
 bless thee, JacepO' !" whispered a voice, that to the 
 excited imagi(«dition of the kneeling Brttvo. appeared 
 to hover in the air. The sdemn wofds were fol- 
 lowed by a quivering sigh. Jacopo hid his face in 
 the blanket, and prayed. After which there was 
 deep quiet. 
 
 "Father!" he askedv trenMAg at his own 
 smothered voice. 
 
 He was (Wfah^wered. Stretdhitig oiit a haiid, it 
 touched the features of a corpse. With a firmness 
 that bad the (joaht;^ of despef aHoif, he itgtfiil bowed 
 
(30 THE BRAVO. 
 
 his head, and uttered, fervently, a prayer for the 
 
 dead. • ■ 
 
 When the door of the cell opened, Jacopo ap- 
 peared to the keepers, with a dignity of air that 
 belongs only to character, and which was heighten 
 ed by the scene, in which he had just been an 
 actor. He raised his hands, and stood immovable 
 while the manacles were replaced. This office 
 done, they walked away together, in the direction 
 of the secret chamber. It was not long ere all 
 were again in their places, before the Council of 
 Three. 
 " Jacopo Frontoni," resumed the secretary, 
 thou art suspected of being privy to another dark 
 deed, that hath had place of late, within our city. 
 Hast thou any knowledge of a noble Calabrian, 
 who hath high claim to the senate's honors, and 
 who hath long had his abode in Venice?" 
 " Signore, I have." 
 
 " Hast thou had aught of concern with him 1." 
 " Signore, yes." 
 
 A movement of common interest made itself ap- 
 parent among the auditors. 
 
 " Dost thou know where the Don Camillo Mon- 
 forte is, at present?" 
 
 Jacopo hesitated. He so well understood the 
 means of intelligence possessed by the Council, that 
 he doubted how far it might be prudent to deny his 
 connexion with the flight of the lovers. Besides, 
 at that moment his mind was deeply impressed with 
 a holy sentiment of truth. 
 
 " Canst thou say, why the young duca is not to 
 be found in his palace ?" repeated the secretary. 
 " lUustrissimo, he hath quitted Venice for ever." 
 « How canst thou know this ? — ^Would he make 
 a confidant of a common Bravo ?" 
 
 The smile which crossed the features of Jacopo 
 was full of superiority; it caused the conscious 
 
THE BRAVO. 431 
 
 agent of the Secret Tribunal to look closely at his 
 papers, like one who felt its power. 
 
 " Art thou his confidant — I ask again ?". 
 
 " Sisnore, in this, I am. — I have the assurance 
 from the mouth of Don Camillo Monforte himself 
 that he will not return." 
 
 " This is impossible, since it would involve a loss 
 of all his fair hopes and illustrious fortunes." 
 
 " He consoled himself, Signore, with the posses- 
 sion of the heiress 'of Tiepolo's love, and with her 
 riches." 
 
 Again there was a movement among the Three, 
 which all their practised restraint, and the conven- 
 tional dignity of their mysterious functions, could 
 not prevent. 
 
 " Let the keepers withdraw ;" said the inquisitor 
 of the scarlet robe. So soon as the prisoner was 
 alone with the Three, and their permanent officer, 
 the examination continued ; the senators themselves, 
 trusting to the effect produced by their masks, and 
 some feints, speaking as occasion offered. 
 
 " This is important intelUgence that thou hast 
 communicated, Jacopo," continued he of the robe 
 of flame. " It may yet redeem thy life, wert thou 
 wise enough to turn it to account." 
 
 " What would your eccellenza, at my hands ? It 
 IS plain that the Council know of the flight of Don 
 Camillo, nor will I believe, that eyes, which so sel- 
 dom are closed, have not yet missed the daughter 
 of the Tiepolo." 
 
 " Both are true, Jacopo ; but what hast thou to 
 say of the means?" Remember, that as thou find 
 est favor with the Council, thine own fate will be 
 decided." 
 
 The prisoner suffered another of those freezing 
 gleams to cross his face, which invariably caused 
 his examiners to bend their looks aside. 
 
 " The means of escape cannot be wanting to a 
 
432 THE BRAVO. 
 
 bold loverr Sigiiorfe ;" he rdplied. « Dofi CatmiBtf IS 
 rich, and might employ a thousand agerits, had hV 
 need of them.", 
 
 " Th'ia art equivdc^ting j 't will be the worse foi 
 thee, thkt thou Mfle^t with thfe Couhcil — ^wh6 are 
 these agents 1 " 
 
 "He had a generous household, eccellenza 5^— 
 ma«iy hardy gondoliersf and servitors of all condii 
 fions." 
 
 " Of thdse we have nothing to learn. He hath 
 escaped by other means — or art thou sure he hktb 
 escaped at all?" 
 
 " Signoris, is he iii Venice 1 " 
 
 " Nay( that v/e ask of thee. Here is aft aceasEt' 
 tion, found in the lion's mouth, which charges ih6# 
 with his assassination." 
 
 " And the Donna Violetta's too, eccdleilza ?" 
 
 " Of her^ we have beard nothing. What anSWe* 
 dost make to the charge 1 " 
 
 " Signore, why shovdd I betray my own secrets?" 
 
 " Ha ! art thou equivocating and faithless 1 He-- 
 member that we have a prisoner beneath the feads, 
 who can extract the truth frowi thee.'* 
 
 Jacfirpo raised his form to such an altitude, as one 
 might fancy to esipress the mounting of a liberated 
 spirit Still his eye was sad, and spite of arj eWbri 
 to the contrary, his voice melancholy. 
 
 " Senators," he said, " your prisoner beneath the 
 leads, is free." 
 
 " How ! thou art trifling, in thy despair ! " 
 
 " I speak truth. The liberation,' so long delayed, 
 hath come at last ! " 
 
 " Thy father -" 
 
 " Is dead ; interrupted Jacopo, solemnly. 
 
 The two elder members of the Council looked at 
 efetch other, in surprise, while their juniot colleagti# 
 listened with the irtterest of one, Vvho was juSt el*^ 
 eriilg on a noviciate of secret amd etttbarMsisilig 
 
THE BRAVO. 48i 
 
 duties. The former consulted together, and then 
 they communicated as much of their opinions to the 
 Signor Soranzo, as they deemed necessary to the 
 occasion. 
 
 " Wilt thou consult thine own safety, Jacopo, ard 
 reveal all thou knowest of this affair of the Neapo- 
 litan ? " continued the inquisitor, when this by -play 
 was ended. 
 
 Jacopo betrayed no weakness at the menace iui 
 plied by the words t»f the senator ; but, after a mj- 
 ment's reflection, he answered with as much frank- 
 ness as he could have used at the confessional. 
 
 " It is known to you, illustrious senator," he said 
 " that the state had a desire to match the heiress of 
 Tiepolo, to its own advantage ; that she was be- 
 loved of the Neapolitan noble ; and that, as is wont, 
 between young and virtuous hearts, she returned 
 his love, as became a maiden of her high condition, 
 and tender years. Is there, any thing extraordinary 
 in the circumstance, that two of so illustrious hopes 
 should struggle to prevent their own misery 1 Sig- 
 nori, the ni^t that old Antonio died, I was alone, 
 among the graves of the Lido, with many melan- 
 choly and bitter thoughts, and life had become a 
 burthen to me. Had the evil spirit which was then 
 uppermost maintained its mastery, I might have 
 died the death of a hopeless suicide. God sent Don 
 Camillo Monforte, to my succor — upraised be the 
 immaculate Maria, and her blessed Son, for the 
 mercy ! it was there, I learned the wishes of the 
 Neapolitan, and enlisted myself in his service. I 
 swore to him, senators of Venice, to be true ; to die 
 in his cause, should it be necessary; and to help 
 Knn to his bride. This pledge have I redeemed. 
 The happy lovers are now in the states of th<* 
 Church, and under the piissant protection of the 
 canluial seoetary, Don Camillo's mother's brother " 
 30 
 
434 THE BRAVO. 
 
 "Fool! why didst thou this? Hadst thou no 
 ■.hought for thyself! " 
 
 " Eccellenza, but little ; I thought more of find- 
 ing a human bosom to pour out my sufferings to, 
 than of your high displeasure. I have nOt known 
 so sweet a moment in years, as that in which I saw 
 the lord of Sant' Agata fold his beautiful and weep- 
 ing bride to his heart ! " 
 
 The inquisitors were struck with the quiet enthu- 
 siasm of the Bravo, and surprise once more held 
 them m suspense. At length, the elder of the three 
 resumed the exammation. 
 
 " Wilt thou impart the manner ot this escape, 
 Jacopo 1 " he demanded. " Remember thou hast 
 stiU a life to redeem ! " 
 
 " Signore, it is scarce worth the trouble. Uut to 
 do you pleasure, nothing shall be concealed." 
 
 Jacopo then recounted, in simple, and undisguised 
 terms, the entire means employed by Don Camillo 
 in effecting his escape; his hopes, his disappoint- 
 ments, and his final success. In this narrative no- 
 thing was concealed, but the place in which the 
 ladies had temporarily taken refuge, and the name 
 of Gelsomina. Even the attempt of Giacomo Gra- 
 denigo on the life of the Neapolitan, and the agency 
 of the Hebrew, were fully exposed. None listened 
 to this explanation so intently as the young husband. 
 Notwithstanding his public duties, his pulses quick- 
 ened as the prisoner dwelt on the different chances 
 of the lovers, and when their final union was pro- 
 claimed, he felt his heart bound with delight. On 
 the other hand, his more practised colleagues heard 
 'he detail of the Bravo, with politic coolness. The 
 effect of all factitious systems is to render the feel- 
 ings subservient to expediency. Convention and 
 fiction take place of passion and truth, and like the 
 Mussulman with his doctrine of predestination, theie 
 is no one more acquiescent in defeat, than he who 
 
THE BRAVO 435 
 
 has obtained an advantage in the face of nature and 
 
 {'usuce ; his resignation being, in common, as per- 
 eci as his previous arrogance was insupportable. 
 The two old senators perceived at once, that Don 
 Camillo, and his fair con^anion, were completely 
 beyond the reach of their power, and they instantly 
 admitted the wisdom of making a merit of necfc^sity 
 Having no farther occasion for Jacopo, they sum- 
 moned the keepers, and dismissed him to his cell, 
 
 " It will be seemly to send letters of congratula- 
 tion, to the cardinal secretary, on the union of his 
 nephew, with so rich an heiress of our city," said 
 the Inquisitor of the Ten, as the door closed on the 
 retiring group. " So great an interest as that of the 
 Neapolitan, should be propitiated." 
 
 " But should he urge the state's resistance to his 
 hopes V returned the Signor Soranzo, in feeble objec- 
 tion to so bold a scheme. 
 
 " We will excuse it as the act of a former council. 
 These misconceptions are the unavoidable conse- 
 quences of the caprices of liberty, Signore. The 
 steed that ranges the plains, in the freedom of nature, 
 cannot be held to perfect command, like the dull 
 beast that draws the car. This is the first of yoiu* 
 sittings, in the Three, but experience will show you, 
 that excellent as we are in system, we are not quite 
 perfect in practice. This is grave matter of the 
 young Gradenigo, Signori!" 
 
 " I have long known his unworthincss," returned 
 his more aged colleague. " It is a thousand pities 
 that so honorable and so noble a patrician should 
 have produced so ignoble a child. But neither the 
 state, nor the city, can tolerate assassination." 
 
 "Would it were less frequent!" exclaimed the 
 Signore Soranzo, in perfect sincerity. 
 
 * Would it were, indeed ! There are hints in oui 
 secret information, which tend to confirm the charge 
 28 R2 
 
436 THE BRAVO. 
 
 of Jacopo. Though long experience has taught ii9 
 to put full faith in his reports." 
 
 " How — is Jacopo, then, an agent of the police ?" 
 " Of that more at our leisure, Signer Soranzo. At 
 present we must look to this attempt on die life of 
 one protected by our laws." 
 
 The Three then entered into a serious discussion 
 of the case of the two delinquents. Venice, like all 
 despotic government's, had the merit of great -ef' 
 ficiency in its criminal police, when it was disposed 
 to exert it. Justice was sure enough in those in- 
 stances, in which the interests of the government 
 itself were not involved, or in which bribery coaM 
 not well be used. As to the latter, through the 
 jealousy of the state, and the constant agency of 
 those who were removed from temptation, by bieing 
 already in possession of a monopoly of benefits, it 
 was by no means as frequent, as in some other com- 
 munities, in which the affluent were less interested. 
 The Sigaor Soranzo had now a fair occasion for the 
 exercise of his generous feelings. Though related 
 to the house of-Gradenigo, he was hot backward in 
 decrying the conduct of its heir. His first imprfses 
 were to make a terrible example of the accused, and 
 to show the world that no station brought with it, in 
 Venice, impunity for crime. From this view of the 
 case, however, he was gradually enticed by his com- 
 panions, who reminded him that the law commonly 
 made a distinction, between the intention and the 
 execution of an offence. Driven from his first de- 
 termination by the cooler heads of his colleagues, 
 the young inquisitor next proposed that the case 
 should be sent to the ordinary tribunals, for judgment. 
 Instances had not been wanting, in which the aris- 
 tocracy of Venice sacrificed one of its body to the 
 seemliness of Justice ; for when such cases were 
 managed with discreftion, they rather strengthened 
 than weak> led their ascendency. But the present 
 
niE BRAVO. 43^ 
 
 crime was known to be too common, to permit so 
 avish an expenditure of their immunities, and the 
 old inquisitors opposed the wish of their younger 
 colleague, with great plausibiHty, and with some 
 snow of reason. It was finally resolved that they 
 should themselves decide on the case. 
 
 The next question was the degree of punishment 
 The wily senior of the council began by proposing 
 a banishment for a few months, for Giacomo Grade- 
 nigo was already obnoxious to the ^nger of the 
 state, on more accounts than one. But this punish 
 ment was resisted, by the Stgnor Soranzo, with the 
 ardor of an uncorrupted and generous mind. The 
 latter gradually prevailed, his companions taking 
 care that their compliance should have the air of a 
 concession to his arguments. The result of all this 
 management was, that the heir of Gradenigo was 
 tondemned to ten years' retirement in the provinces, 
 and Hosea to banishment for life. ShouM the reader 
 be of opinion that strict justice was not meted out to 
 the offenders, he should remember, that the Hebrew 
 ought to be glad to have escaped as he did. 
 
 "We must not conceal this judgment, nor its 
 motive," observed the Inquisitor of the Ten, when 
 the affair was concluded. " The state is never a 
 loser for letting its justice be known." 
 
 " Nor for its exercise, I should hope ;" returned 
 the Signor Soranzo. " As our affairs are ended for 
 the night, is it your pleasures, Signori, that we re- 
 turn to our palaces?" 
 
 " Nay, we have this matter of Jacopo." 
 
 " Him may we, now, surely, turn over to the or- 
 dinary tribunals ! " 
 
 " As you may decide, Signori ; is this your plea 
 sure ? " 
 
 Both the others bowed assent, and the usual pre- 
 parations were made for departure. 
 
 Ere the two seniors of the Council left the palace 
 202 
 
438 THE BRAVO. 
 
 however, they held a long and secret conferenoe 
 together. The result vs^as a private order to the 
 criminal judge, and then they returned, each to his 
 own abode, like men who had the approbation of 
 their own consciences. " 
 
 On the other hand, the Signer Soranzo hastened 
 to his own luxurious and happy dwelling. For the 
 first time, in his life, he entered it with a distrust of 
 himself. Without being conscious of the reason, 
 he felt sad, for he had taken the first step in that 
 tortuous and corrupting path, which eventually' 
 leads to the destruction of all those generous and 
 noble sentiments, which can only -flourish apart 
 from the sophistry and fictions of selfishness. He 
 would have rejoiced to have been as light of heart 
 as at the moment he handed his fair-haired partner 
 into the gondola that night ; but his head had press- 
 ed the pillow for many hours, before sleep drew a 
 veil over the solemn trifling with the most serious 
 of our duties, in which he had been an actor. 
 
 CHAPTBE XXX. 
 
 Art thou not gaOiy ! No, indeed, I am not" 
 
 ROQBRB. 
 
 The following morning brought the funeral of 
 Antonio. The agents of the poUce took the pre^ 
 caution to circulate in the city, that the senate per- 
 mitted this honor to the memory of the old fisher- 
 man, on account of his success in the regatta, and 
 as some atonement for his unmerited and mysteri- 
 DLis, death. All the men of the Lagunes were as- 
 sembled in the square at the appointed hour, in de- 
 cent guise, flattered with the notice that their craft 
 
THE BRAVO. 439 
 
 received, and more than half disposeJ to forget 
 their former anger in the present favor. Thus easj 
 Is it for those who are elevated above their fellow- 
 creatures by the accident of birth, or by the opin- 
 ions of a factitious social organization, to repair the 
 wrongs they do in deeds, by small concessions of 
 their conventional superiority. 
 
 Masses were still chanted for the soul of old 
 Antonio before the altar of St. Mark. Foremost 
 among the priests was the good Carmelite, who 
 had scarce known hunger or fatigue, in his pious 
 desire to do the offices of the church, in behalf of 
 one, whose fate he might be said to have witnessed. 
 His zeal, however, in that moment of excitement 
 passed unnoticed by all, but those "whose business it 
 was to suffer no unusual display of character, nor 
 any unwonted circumstance to have place, without 
 attracting their suspicion. As the Carmelite finally 
 withdrew from the altar, previously to the renioval 
 of the body, he felt the sleeve of his robe slightly 
 drawn aside, and yielding to the impulse, he quickly 
 found himself among the columns of that gloomy 
 church, alone with a stranger. 
 
 " Father, thou hast shrived many a parting soul ? " 
 observed, rather than asked, the other. 
 
 " It is the duty of my holy office, son." 
 
 " The state will note thy services ; there will be 
 need of thee when the body of this fisherman is 
 committed to the earth." 
 
 The monk shuddered, but making the sign of the 
 cross, he bowed his pale face, in signification of his 
 readiness to discharge the duty. At that moment 
 the bearers lifted the body, and the procession is- 
 sued upon the great square. First marched the 
 usual lay underiings of the cathedral, who were 
 followed by those who chanted the offices of the 
 occasion. Among the latter the Carmelite hastened 
 to take his station. Next came the corpse, without 
 
440 THE BRAVO 
 
 a coffin, for that is a luxury of the grave, even noiys 
 unknovra to the Italians of old Antonio's degv^. 
 The hody was clad in the holiday vestments of 6 
 fisherman, the hands and feet being naked. A cross 
 lay on the breast; the gray hairs were blowing 
 about in the air, and, in frightful adornment of the 
 ghastliness of death, a bouquet of flowers was 
 placed upon the Kiouth. The bier was rich in gild- 
 ing and carving, another melancholy evidence of 
 the lingering wishes and felse direction of human 
 vanity. 
 
 Next to this characteristic equipage of the d^d 
 walked a lad, whose brown cheek, half-naked body, 
 and dark, roving, eye, announced the grandson of 
 the fisherman. 'Venice knew when to yield grace- 
 fully, and the boy was liberated, unconditionally, 
 from the galleys, in pity, as it was whispered, for 
 the untimely fate of his parent. There was the as- 
 piring look, the dauntless spirit, and the rigid hon- 
 esty of Antonio, in. the bearing of the lad ; but these 
 quaUties were now smothered by a natural grief; 
 1 and, as in the case of him, whose funeral escort he 
 followed, something obscured by the rude chances 
 of his lot From, time to time the bosom of the 
 generous boy heaved, as they marched along the 
 quay, taking the route of the arsenal; and there 
 were moments that his lips quivered ; grief threat- 
 ening to overcome his- manhood. 
 
 Still not a tear wetted his cheek, until the body 
 disappeared from his view. Then nature triumphed, 
 and straying from out the circle, he took a seat apan 
 and wept, as one of his years and simphcity would 
 be apt to weep, at finding himself a solitary wan- 
 derer in the wilderness of the world. 
 
 Thus terminated the incident of Antonio Vecchio, 
 the fisherman, whose name soon ceased to be men 
 lioned in that city of mysteries, except on the La 
 gimes, where the men of his craft long vaunted his 
 
THE BRAVO. 441 
 
 merit with the net, and the manner in which he bore 
 away the prize from tlie best oars of Venice. His 
 descendant Uved and tciled, like others- of his con- 
 dition, and we will here dismiss him, by saying, that 
 he so far inherited the native qualities of his ances- 
 tor, that he forbore to appear, a few hours later, in 
 the crowd, which curiosity and vengeance drew 
 into the Piazzetta. 
 
 Father Anselmo took boat to return to the canals, 
 and when he landed at the quay of the smailer 
 square, it was with the hope that he would nov\n)e 
 permitted to seek those of whose fate he was still 
 iguorant, but in whom he felt so deep an interest. 
 Not so, however. The individual who had address- 
 ed him in the cathedral was, apparently, in waiting, 
 and knowing the usclessness, as well as the danger 
 of remonstrance, where the state was concerned, 
 the Carmelite permitted himself to be conducted 
 whither his guide pleased. They took a devious 
 route, but it Ted them to the public prisons. Here 
 the priest was shown into the keeper's apartment, 
 where he was desii'ed to wait a summons from hw 
 companion. 
 
 Our business now leads us to the cell of Jacopo. 
 On quitting the presence of the Three, he had been 
 remanded to Jiis gloomy room, where he passed the 
 night like others similarly situated. With the ap- 
 pearance of the dawn the Bravo iiiid been led be- 
 fore those who ostensilily dischnrged the duties of 
 his judges. We say ostensibly, for justice never 
 was yet pure under a system in which the govern- 
 ors have an interest, in the least se|)arated from that 
 of the governed ; for in all cases which involve the 
 ascendency of the existing authorities, the instinct 
 of self-preservation is as certain to bias their decis- 
 ion, as that, of life is to cause man to shun danger. 
 If such is the tact in i-diintries of milder sway, the 
 "Bader will easily believe in its existence in a state 
 
44!t THE BRAVO. 
 
 ike that of Venice. As may have been anticrpated 
 -hose who sat in judgment on Jacopo had their in- 
 structions, and the trial that ne sustained was ra- 
 ther a concession to appearances than an homage to 
 the laws. All the records were duly made, wit- 
 nesses were examined, or said to be examined, and 
 care was had to spread the rumor in the city^. that 
 the tribunals were at length occupied in deciding on 
 the case of the ' extraordinary man, who had so 
 long been permitted to exercise his bloody profes- 
 sion with impunity, even in the centre of the canals. 
 During the morning, the credulous tradesmen were 
 much engaged in recounting to each other the dif- 
 ferent flagrant deeds that, in the course of the last 
 three or four years, had been imputed to his hand. 
 One spoke of the body of a stranger that had been 
 found near the gaming-houses, frequented by those 
 who visited Venice. Another recalled the fate of 
 the young noble, who had fallen by the assassin's 
 blow even on the Rialto, and another went into the 
 details of a murder, which had deprived a mothcE 
 "bf her only son, and the daughter of a patrician of 
 her love. In this manner, as one after another con- 
 vributed to the list, a little group, assembled on .the 
 quay, enumerated no less than five-and-twenty Hves, 
 which were believed to have been taken, by the 
 hand of Jacopo, without including the vindictive 
 and useless ass'assination of him whose funeral rites 
 had just been celebrated. Happily, perhaps, for his 
 peace of mind, the subject of all these rumors, and 
 of the maledictions which they drew upon his head, 
 knew nothing of either. Before his judges he had 
 made no defence whatever, firmly refusing to an- 
 swer their interrogatories. 
 
 " Ye know what I have done, Messires," he said, 
 faaughtily. " And what I have not done, ye know 
 As for yourselves, look to your own interests." 
 
 When again in his cell, he demanded food, and 
 
THK BRAVO. 443 
 
 ate franqniff^, thotrgh with mo(feration. Every in- 
 strument which could possibly be used against his 
 life, was then ren)ovea, his irons were finally and 
 carefully examined, and he was left to his thoughts. 
 It was in this situation that the prisoner heard the 
 approach of footsteps to his cell. The boks turned, 
 and the door opened. The form of a priest appear 
 ed between him and the (fey. The latter, however, 
 held a lamp, which, as the cell was again shut and 
 secured, he place9 on the low shelf that held the 
 jug and loaf of the prisoner. 
 
 Jacopo received his visitor calmly, but wrtli the 
 deep respect of one who reverenced his holy office. 
 He arose, crossed himself, and advanced as far as 
 the chains permflteif, to do him honor. 
 
 " Thou art welcome, father," he said ; " in cutting 
 me off from earth, the Council, I see, does not wish 
 to cut me off from God." 
 
 " That would exceed their power, son. He who 
 died for them, shed his blood for thee, if thou wilt 
 not reject his grace. But — Heaven knows I say it 
 with reluctance !* thou art not to think that one of 
 thy sins, Jacopo, can have hope without deep and 
 heartfelt repentance ! " 
 
 « Father, have any?"' 
 
 The Carmelite started, for the point of the ques- 
 tion, and the tranquil tones of the speaker, had a 
 strange effect in such an interview. 
 
 "'Hiou art not what I had supposed thee, Ja- 
 fiopo I" he answered. " Thy mind is not altogether 
 obscured in darkness, and thy crimes have been 
 committed against the consciousness of their enor- 
 mity." 
 
 "I fear this is true, reverend monk." 
 
 " Thou must feel their weight in the poignancy of 
 grief— in the — " Father Anselmo stopped, for a sob 
 at tlrat moment, apprized them that they were 
 not alone. Moving aside, in a little alarm, the ac 
 
444 THE BRAVO. 
 
 lion discovered the figure of the shi inking Gelso 
 mina, who had entered the cell, favored by the 
 keepers, and concealed by the robes of the Carmcl 
 ite. Jacopo groaned, vs^hen he beheld her form, 
 and turning away, he leaned against the wall. 
 
 " Daughter, why art thou here — and who arl 
 thou 1 " demanded the monk. 
 
 " 'Tis the child of the principal keeper," said Ja- 
 copo, perceiving that she was unable to answer, 
 "one known to me, in my frequent adventures in 
 this prison." 
 
 The eye of father Anselmo wandered from one 
 to the other. At first its expression was severe, 
 and then, as it saw each countenance in turn, it be- 
 came less unkind, until it softened, at the exhibition 
 of their mutual agony. 
 
 " This comes of human passions !" he said, in a 
 tone between consolation and reproof. " Such are 
 ever the fruits of crime." 
 
 " Father," said Jacopo, with earnestness, " I may 
 deserve the word; but the angels in Heaven are 
 scarce purer than this weeping girl!" 
 
 " I rejoice to hear it. I will believe thee, unfor- 
 tunate man, and glad am I, that thy soul is relieved 
 from the sin of having corrupted one so youthful." 
 
 The bosom of the prisoner heaved, while Gelso- 
 mina shuddered. 
 
 " Why hast thou yielded to the weakness of na- 
 ture, and entered the cell?" asked the good Carmel- 
 ite, endeavoring to throw into his eye a reproof, 
 that the pathos and kindness of his tones contradict- 
 ed. " Didst thou know the character of the man 
 thou loved''" 
 
 " Immaculate Maria !" exclaimed the girl — " no — 
 no — no!" 
 
 " And now that thou hast learned the truth, sure- 
 ly thou art no longer the victim of wayward fan- 
 cies ! " 
 
THE BRAVO. 44S 
 
 The gaze of Ge.80inina was bewildered, but an- 
 euish prevailed over all other expression. She 
 bowed her head, partly in shame, but more in sor- 
 row, without answering. 
 
 " I know not, children, what end this interview 
 can answer," continued the monk — " I am sent 
 hither to receive the iast confession of a Bravo, and 
 surely, one who has so much cause to condemn tlie 
 deception he has practised, would not wish to heai 
 the details of such a life?" 
 
 "No — no — no — " murmured Gelsomina again, 
 enforcing her words with a wild gesture of the 
 hand. 
 
 " It is better, father, that she should believe me 
 all that her fancy can imagine as monstrous," said 
 Jacopo, in a thick voice: "she will then learn to 
 hate my memory." 
 
 Gelsomina did not speak, but the negative gesture 
 was repeated franticly. 
 
 " The heart of the poor child hath been sorely 
 touched," said the Carmelite, with concern. " "We 
 must not treat so tender a flower rudely. Hearken 
 to me, daughter, and consult thy reason, more than 
 thy weakness." 
 
 "Question her not, father; — ^let her curse me, 
 and depart." 
 
 " Carlo !" shrieked Gelsomina. 
 
 A long pause succeeded. The monk perceived 
 that human passion was superior to his art, and 
 that the case must be left to time ; while the prisoner 
 maintained within himself, a struggle more fierce 
 than any which it had yet been his fate to endure. 
 The lingering desires of the world conquered, and 
 he broke silence. 
 
 " Father," he said, advancing to the length of his 
 
 •ihain, and speaking both solemnly, and with dignity, 
 
 " I had hoped — ^I had prayed that this unhappy but 
 
 innocent creature might have turned from her own 
 
 2P 
 
4*B THE BRAVO. 
 
 weakness with lothing, when she came ft> know 
 that the man she loved was a Bravo. — But I did . 
 inJQstiGe to the heart of woman ! — Tell me, Gelso- 
 mina, and as thou valuest thy salvation, dbceive me 
 nof — canst thou look at me without horror?" 
 
 Gelsomina trembled, hut she raised her eyes, and 
 smiled on him as the- weeping infent returns the 
 earnest and tender regard of its rnotfter. The effect 
 of that glance on Jacopo was so powerfuf, that his 
 sinewy frame shook, until the wondering Carmelite 
 heard the clanking of his chains. 
 
 " 'Tis enoagh," he said, struggling to comrtaandf 
 himself, " Gelsomina, thou shalt hear my confession. 
 TboH bast long been mistress of one great secretj 
 none other shall be hid firom thee." 
 
 "Antonio?" gasped the girl, — "Carlo! Ciarlo 
 what had that aged fisherman dolie,, that thy hand* 
 should seek tm life ?" 
 
 " Antonio ! " echoed the monk ;; dost thou stand 
 charged with his death, my son ? " 
 
 "It is the crime for which I am condemned to 
 die.'" 
 
 The Carmelite sank upon the stool of the prison- 
 er, and sat motionless, looking with an eye of hor-' 
 por, from the- countenance of the unmoved Jacopo^ 
 to that of his trembling companion. The truth be- 
 gan to dawn upon hrm, thongh his mind was still 
 errvetoped in the web of Venetian mystery. 
 
 Here is some horrible mistake!" he whisperedj' 
 " 1 will hasten to thy judges and undeceive them." 
 
 The prisoner smiled calmly, as he reached out a. 
 hand to arrest the zealous movement of the simple 
 Carmelite. 
 
 " 'Twill be. useless,"' he said ; « it is the pleasure 
 of the Three, that I should suffer for old Antonio's 
 death." 
 
 "Then wilt thou die unjustly !— I am a witness,' 
 that he fell by other hands." ' 
 
THE BRAVO. 4f1 
 
 "Father!" shrieked Gelsomina, " oh ! repeat the 
 woids — say that Carlo could not do the cruel deed ! " 
 
 " Of that murder, at least, is he innocent." . 
 
 "Gelsomina !" said Jacopo, struggling to stretch 
 forth his arms towards lier, and yielding to a full 
 heart, " and of every other ! " 
 
 A cry of wild delight burst from the lips of the 
 girl, who in the next instant lay senseless on his 
 bosom. 
 
 We draw the veil before the scene that followed 
 Near an hour must pass before we can again remoTC 
 it. The ceU thea exhibited a group in its centre, 
 over which the lamp shed its feeble light, marking 
 the countenances of the dilTerent personages wifh 
 strong tints and deep shadows, in a manner to bring 
 forth all the force of Italian expression. The Car- 
 melite was seated on the stool, while Jacopo and 
 Geteomioa knelt beside him. The former of the two 
 last wasi speaking earnestly, while hia auditors 
 caught each syllable that issued from his lips, as 
 if interest in his innocence were still stronger than 
 curiosity. 
 
 " I have told you, father," he continued, " that a 
 ialse accusatioB of having wroi^d the custom^ 
 brought my unhappy parent under the senate's dis- 
 pleasure, and that ne was many years an innocent 
 inhabitant of one of these accursed cells, while we 
 believed him in exile, among the islands. At length 
 we succeeded in getting such prool before the Coun- 
 cil, as ought to have satisfied the patricians of their 
 ■wn injustice. I Tim afraid that when men pretend 
 that ths chosen of the earth exercise authority, ihcf 
 are not ready to admit their errors, for it would hk 
 proof against the merit of their system. The Coun- 
 cil delayed a weary time to do us justice — so long* 
 that my poor mother sank under her sufferings. My 
 sister, a girl of Gelsomina's years, followed her 
 lOon — for the only reason girea l^ the state, wtwit 
 
448 THE BRAVO. 
 
 pressed for proof, was the suspicion, that one who 
 sought her love, was guilty of the crime for which 
 my unhappy father perished." 
 
 "And did they refuse to repair their injustice?" 
 exclaimed the Carmelite. 
 
 " They could not do it, father, without publishing 
 their fallibility. The credit of certain great patri- 
 cians was concerned, and I fear there is a morahly 
 in these Councils, which separates the deed of the 
 man from those of the senators, putting policy before 
 justice." 
 
 " This may be true, son ; for when a community 
 is grounded on false principles, its interests must, of 
 necessity, be maintained by sophisms. God will 
 view this, act with a different eye !" 
 
 " Else would the world be hopeless, father ! After 
 years of prayers and interest, I was, under a solemn 
 oath of secrecy, admitted to my father's cell. There 
 was happiness in being able to administer to his 
 wants — in hearing his voice — ^in kneeling for his 
 blessing. Gelsomina was then a child approaching 
 womanhood. I knew not their motive, though after 
 thoughts left it no secret, and I was permitted to see 
 my father through her means. When they believed 
 that I was sufficiently caught in their toils, I was led 
 into that fatal error which has destroyed my hopes, 
 and brought me to this condition." 
 
 " Thou hast affirmed thy innocence, my son ! " 
 
 " Innocent of shedding blood, father, but not of 
 lending myself to their artifices. I will not weary 
 you, holy monk, with the history of the means by 
 which they worked upon my nature. I was sworn 
 to serve the state, as its secret agent, for a certain 
 time. The reward was to be my father's freedom. 
 Had they taken me in the world, and in my senses, 
 their arts would not have triumphed; but a daily 
 witness of the sufferings of him who had given me 
 Ufe, and who was now all that was left me in the 
 
THE BRAVO. 
 
 world* they were too strong for my weakness. Tliey 
 whimpered to me of racks and wheels, audi I was 
 ihown paintings of dying martyrs, that I might un- 
 derstaad the agony they could inflict. Assassina- 
 tions were frequent, and called for the care of the 
 police — in short, father" — Jacopo hid his face in the 
 dress of Gelsomina, — " I consented to let them cir- 
 culate such tales as might draw the eye of the public 
 on me. I need not add, that he who lends himself to 
 his own iafsray, will soon attain his object." 
 
 "With what end was this miserable falsehood 
 mvented?" 
 
 "Father, I was applied to as to a public Brave, 
 and my reports, in more ways than one, answered 
 their designs. That I saved some Lves is at least 
 a consolation for the error, or crime, into which 
 I Ml" 
 
 "1 understand thee, Jacopo. I have heard! that 
 Venice did not hesitate to use the ardent, and brave, 
 m this manner. Holy St. Mark! can deceit like, 
 this be pi-actked under the sanction of thy blessed 
 name!" 
 
 " Father, it is, and more. I had other duties, con- 
 nected witii. the interests of the republic, and of 
 course I was practised in their discharge. The 
 citizens marvelled that one like me should go "at 
 large, while the vindictive and revengeful took the 
 circumstance as a proof of address. When; rumor 
 grew too strong for appearances, the Three took 
 measures to direct it to other things ; and when it 
 grew too faint for their wishes, it was fanned. In 
 short, for three long and bitter years did I pass the 
 life of the damned-^sustained only by the hope of 
 liberating my father, and cheered by the love of this 
 innocent!" 
 
 " Poor Jacopo, thou art to be pitied ! I will r» 
 member thee in my prayers." 
 
 " And thou, Gelsomina ?" 
 2P2 
 
450 - THE BRAVO. 
 
 The keeper's daughter did not answeri- Her ears 
 had drunk in each syllable that fell from his lips, and 
 now that the whole truth began to dawn on her 
 mind, there was a bright radiance in her eyej that 
 appeared almost supernatural to those who wit- 
 nessed it. 
 
 " If I have failed in convincing thee, Gelsomina/' 
 continued Jacopo, "that I am not the wretch I 
 seemed, would that I had been dumb !" 
 
 She stretched a hand towards him, and dropping 
 her head on his bosom, wept 
 
 " I see all thy temptations, poor Carlo," she said, 
 softly ; " I know how strong was thy love for thy 
 father." 
 
 ■ " Dost thou forgive me, dearest Gelsomina, for the 
 deception on thy innocence?" 
 
 " There was no deception — I believed thee a son 
 ready to die for his father, and I find thee what I 
 thought thee." 
 
 , ./,,Tne good Carmelite regarded this scene with 
 eyes of interest and indulgence. — Tears wetted his 
 cheeks. 
 
 " Thy affection for each other, children," he said, 
 " is such as angels might indulge. — Has thy inter- 
 course been of long date V' 
 • " It has lasted years, father." 
 
 " And thou, daughter, hast been with Jacopo in 
 the cell of his parent?" 
 
 " I was his constant guide, on these holy errands 
 father." 
 
 The monk mused deeply. After a silence of 
 several minutes, he proceeded to the duties of his 
 holy office. Receiving the spiritual confession of 
 the prisoner, he gave the absolution, with a fervor 
 which proved how deeply his sympathies were en- 
 listed in behalf of the youthful pair. This duty 
 done, he gave Gelsomina his hand, and there was a 
 
THE BRAVO. 451 
 
 mild coniidence in his countenance, as ne took leave 
 of Jacopo. 
 
 " We quit theej" he said ; " but be of heart, son. 
 I cannot think that even Venice will be deaf to a 
 tale like thine ! Trust first to thy God — and, believe 
 that neither this faithful girl nor I will abandon thee, 
 without an effort." 
 
 Jacopo received this assurance like one accustom- 
 ed to exist in extreme jeopardy. The smile which 
 accompanied his own adieux, had in it as much of 
 incredulity, as of melancholy. It was, however, 
 full of the joy of a lightened heart. 
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 " Your heart 
 Is free, and quick with virtuous wrath to accuse 
 Appearances ; and views a criminal 
 In innocence's shadow." 
 
 Werner. 
 
 The Carmelite and Gelsomina found the keepers 
 in waiting, and when they quitted the cell, its door 
 was secured for the night. As they had no farther 
 concerns with the jailers, they passed on unquestion- 
 ed. But when the end of the corridor, which led 
 towards the apartments of the keeper, was reacheu, 
 the monk stopped. 
 
 " Art thou equal to a great effort, in order that 
 \he innocent shall not die?" he suddenly asked, 
 Uiough with a solemnity that denoted the influence 
 jf a nigh and absorbing motive. 
 
 "Father!" 
 
 " I would know if thy love for the youth can sus- 
 29 
 
4AS THE BRAVO 
 
 tain thee in a t»yifej* scene? for without this efEwi 
 ne will surely perish ! " 
 
 " I would die to save Jacopo a pang \" 
 
 " Deceive not thyself, daiughter !^ — Canst thou for- 
 get thy habits, overstep the difEdence of thy years 
 and condition; stand and speak fearlessly, in the 
 presence of the great and dreaded?" 
 
 " Reverend Ciarmelite, I speak etaily, without fear, 
 though not without awe, ta one more to be dreadell 
 than a;ny in I'^enice." 
 
 The monk looked in admiration at the geirtfe, be- 
 ing, whose countenance was glbwing with the milH 
 I'esolution of innocence and affection, and he mo- 
 tioned for her to follow. 
 
 " We will go, then,, before the proudest and the 
 most fearful of earth, should there be occasion," he 
 resumed. " We will do our duty to both parties ; to 
 the oppressor and the oppressed, that the sin of 
 omission lie not on our souls." 
 
 Father Anselmo, without further explanation, led 
 the obedieat girt into that part of the palace, which 
 was known to be appropriated to the private uses of 
 the titulav bead of the republic. 
 
 The jealousy of the Venetian patricians, on the 
 subject of their doge, is matter of history. He 
 was, by situation, a puppet in the handis of the no- 
 bles, who only tolerated his existence, because the 
 theory of their government required a seeming agent 
 in the imposing ceremonies that formed' part of their 
 specious system, and in their intercourse with othei 
 states. He dwelt, in his palace, like the queen-be^ 
 in the hive, pampered and honored to the eye, but 
 in triith devoted to the objects of those who alonte 
 possess the power to injure, and perhaps we mighi 
 add, like the insect named, known for consuming 
 more than a usual portion of the fruits of the com- 
 mon industry. 
 
 Father Anselmo was indebted to his own decis 
 
THE BRAVO. 453 
 
 imk «h1 to the confidence of his maimer, in reach* 
 ing the private apartments of a prince, thus se- 
 cluded and watched. He was permitted to pass by 
 various sentinels, who imagined, from his holy call- 
 ing and 'cakn step, that he was some friar employed 
 in his usual and privileged office. By this easy, 
 quiet, method did tne Carmelite and his companion 
 penetrate to the very antechamber of the sovereign, 
 a spot that thousands had been defeated in attempt- 
 ing to reach, by means more elaborate. 
 
 There were merely two or three drowsy inferioi 
 officers of the household in waiting. One arose, 
 quickly, at the unexpected appearance of these un- 
 feiown visitors, expressing, by the surprise and the 
 confusion of his eye, the wonder into which he was 
 thrown by so unlooked-for guests. 
 
 "His highness waits for us, I fear?" simply ob- 
 served father Anselmo, who had known how to 
 quiet his concern, in a look of passive courtesy. 
 
 " Santa Maria ! holy father, you should know 
 best, but " 
 
 " We will not lose more time in idle words, son. 
 when there has already been this delay — show us 
 to the closet of his highneBS." 
 
 " It is forbidden to usher any, unannounced, into 
 the presence " 
 
 " Thou seest this is not an ordinary visit. — Go, 
 inform the doge that the Carmelite he expects, and 
 the ywithful maiden, in whom his princely bosom 
 feels so parental an interest, await his pleasure." 
 
 " His highness has then commanded " 
 
 " Tell him, moreover, that time presses ; for the 
 hour is near when innocence is condemned to suf- 
 fer." 
 
 The usher was deceived by the gravity and as- 
 surance of the monk. He hesitated, and then throw- 
 ing open a door, he showed the visitors into an 
 inner room, where he requested them to awut his 
 
454 THE BRAVO. 
 
 return. After this, he went on the desired cornnuf' 
 sion, to the closet of his master. 
 
 It has already been shown that the reigning dogej 
 if such a title can be used of a prince who was 
 merely a tool of the aristocracy, was a man ad- 
 vanced in years. He had thrown aside the cares 
 of the day, and, in the retirement of his privacy, 
 was endeavpring to indulge those human sympa- 
 thies that had so little play in the ordinary duties^ 
 of his factitious condition, by holding intercourse with 
 the mind of one of the classics of his country. His 
 state was laid aside for lighter ease and personal 
 freedom. The monk could not have chosen a hap- 
 pier moment for his object, since the man was un- 
 defended by the usual appliances of his rank, and 
 he was softened by communion with one who had 
 known how to mould and temper the feehngs of his 
 readers at will. So entire was the abstraction of 
 the doge, at the moment, that the usher entered un- 
 heeded, and had stood in respectful attention to his 
 sovereign's pleasure, near a minute before he was 
 seen. 
 
 "What would'st thou, Marco?" demanded the 
 prince, when his eye rose from the page. 
 
 " Signore," returned the officer, using the fami- 
 liar manner in which those nearest to the persons 
 of princes are permitted to indulge — " here are the 
 reverend Carmelite, and the young girl, in waiting." 
 
 " How sayest thou'' — a Carmelite, and a girl !" 
 
 " Signore, the same. Those whom your highness 
 expects." 
 
 " What bold pretence is this ! " 
 
 " Signore, I do but repeat the words of the monk 
 ' Tell his highness,' said the father, ' that the Car- 
 melite he wishes to see, and the young girl, in 
 whose happiness his princely bosom feels so parental 
 fin interest, await his pleasure.' " 
 
 There passed a glow, in which indignation was 
 
THE BRAVO. 466 
 
 brighter than shame, over the wasted cheek of the 
 t>ld prince, and his eye kindled. 
 
 " And this to me — even in my palace ! " 
 
 " Pardon, Signore. — This is no shameless priest, 
 like so many that disgrace the tonsure. Both monk 
 und girl have innocent and harmless looks, and 1 
 do suspect your highness may have forgotten." 
 
 The bright spots disappeared from the prince's 
 cheeks, and his eye regained its paternal expres- 
 sion. But age, and experience in his delicate du- 
 ties, had taught the Doge of Venice caution. He 
 well knew that memory had not failed him, and he 
 at once saw that a hidden meaning lay concealed 
 beneath an application so unusual. There might be 
 a device of his enemies, who were numerous and 
 active, or, in truth, there might be some justifiable 
 motive to warrant the applicant in resorting to a 
 measure so hardy. 
 
 " Did the Carmelite say more, good Marco ? " he 
 asked, after deep reflection. 
 
 ** Signore, he said there was great urgency, as 
 the hour was near when the innocent might suffer. 
 I doubt not that he comes with a petition in behalf 
 of some young indiscreet, for there are said to be 
 several young nobles arrested for their follies in the 
 carnival. The female may be a sister disguised." 
 
 " Bid one of thy companions come hither ; and, 
 when I touch my bell, do thou usher these visit- 
 ors to my presence." 
 
 The attendant withdrew, taking care to pass into 
 the antechamber, by doors tiiat rendered it unne- 
 cessary to show himself, too soon, to those who ex- 
 pected his return. The second usher quickly made 
 nis appearance, and was immediately dispatched in 
 quest of one of the Three, who was occupied with 
 important papers, in an adjoining closet. The sen- 
 ator was not slow to obey the summons, for he ap 
 
456 THE BRAVO. 
 
 peared there as a friend of the prince, having beeft^ 
 admitted publicly, and with the customary honors. 
 
 " Here are f isitors of an unusual character, Sig- 
 nore," said the doge, rising to receive him whom 
 he had summoned in precaution to himself, " and 1 
 would have a witness of their requests." 
 
 " Your highness does well to make us of the sen- 
 ate share your labors ; iJiough if any mistaken opin 
 ion of the necessity has ed you to conceive it im- 
 portant to call a counsellor each time a guest enters 
 the palace " . 
 
 " It is well, Signore," mildly interrupted the 
 prince, touching the bell. " I hope my importunity 
 has not deranged you. But here come those I ex* 
 pect." 
 
 Father Anselmo and Gelsomina entered the closet 
 together. The first glance convinced the doge that 
 he received strangers. He exchanged looks with 
 the member of the secret council, and each saw in 
 the other's eye, that the surprise was mutual. 
 
 When fairly in the presence, the Carmelite threw 
 back his cowl, entirely exposing the whole of his 
 ascetic features, wJlile Gelsomina, awed by the rank 
 of him who received them, shrunk abashed, partly 
 concealed by his robes. 
 
 " What means this visit?" demanded the prince, 
 whose finger pointed to the shrinking form of the 
 girl, while his eye rested steadily on that of the 
 monk, " and that unusual companion 1 Neither the 
 hour, nor the mode, is customary." 
 
 Father Anselmo stood before the Venetian sove- 
 reign for the first time. Accustomed, like aD of 
 that region, and more especially in that age, to calr 
 culate his chances of success warily, before ven- 
 turing to disburthen his mind, the monk fastened a 
 ijenetrating Iook on his interrogator. 
 
 " Illustrious prince," he said, " we come petitioners 
 for justice? They who are thus commissioned had 
 
THE BRAVO. 457 
 
 need be bold, lest they do their own character, and 
 their righteous ofBce, discredit." 
 
 " Justice is the glory of St. Mark, and the happi- 
 ness of his subjects. Thy course, father, is not ac- 
 cording to established rules, and wholesome re- 
 straints, but it may have its apology — name thy er- 
 rand." 
 
 " There is one in the cells, condemned of the puh- 
 lic tribunals, and he must die with the return of 
 day, unless your Drincely authority interfere to save 
 him." 
 
 " One condemned of the tribunals may merit his 
 fate." 
 
 " I am the ghostly adviser of the unhappy youth, 
 and in the execution of my sacred office, I have 
 learned that he is innocent." , 
 
 "Didst thou say, condemned of the common 
 judges, father ? " 
 
 " Sentenced to die, highness, by a decree of the 
 criminal tribunals." 
 
 The pnnce appeared relieved. So long as the 
 affair had been pubhc, there was at least reason to 
 believe he might indulge his love of the species, by 
 listening farther, without offence to the tortuous 
 policy of the state. Glancing his eye at the motion- 
 less inquisitor, as if- to seek approbation, he advanced 
 a step nearer to the Carmelite, with increasing 
 interest in the application, 
 
 " By what authority, reverend priest, dost thou 
 impeach the decision of the judges?" he demanded. 
 
 " Signore, as I have just said, in virtue of know- 
 ledge gained in the exercise of my holy office. He has 
 laid bare his soul to me, as one whose feet were in 
 the grave ; and, though ofiending, like all bom of 
 woman, towards his God, he is guildess as respects 
 the state." 
 
 " Thinkest thou, father, that the law would evei 
 reach its victim, were we to listen only to self-accu- 
 
458 THE BRAVO. 
 
 sations ? I am old, monk, and have long worn that 
 troublesome cap," pointing to the homed bonnet, 
 which lay near his hand, the symbol of his state, 
 " and in my day, I do not recall the criminal that 
 has not fancied himself the victim of untoward cir- 
 cumstances." 
 
 " That men apply this treacherous solace to theii 
 consciences, one of my vocation has not to learn. 
 Our chief task is to show the delusion «f those, 
 who, while condemning their own snns, by words 
 of confession and self-abasement, make a merit of 
 humility ; but. Doge of Venice, there is still a virtue 
 in the sacred rite I have this evening been required 
 to perform, which can overcome the mounting of 
 the most exalted spirit. Many attempt to deceive 
 themselves, at the confessional, while, by the power 
 of God, few succeed." 
 
 " Praised be the blessed mother and the incarnate 
 son, that it is so ! " returned the prince, struck by 
 the mild faith of the monk, and crossing himself, 
 reverently. " Father, thou hast forgotten to name 
 the condemned t " 
 
 "It is a certain Jac(^ Frontora; — a reputed 
 bravo." 
 
 The start, the changing color, and the glance of 
 the prince of Venice, were full of natural surprise. 
 
 " Callest thou the bloodiest stiletto that ever dis- 
 graced the city, the weapon of a reputed bravo ! 
 The arts of the monster have prevailed over thy ex- 
 perience, monk! — ^the true confession of such a 
 wretch, would be but a history of bloody and re- 
 volting crimes." 
 
 " I entered his ceD with this opinion, but I left it 
 convinced that the public sentiment has done him 
 wrong. If your highness will deign hear his tale 
 vou will think him a fit subject for your pity, rather 
 than for punishment" 
 
 •^Of in. the criminals of my reign, this is the 
 
THE BRAVO. 450 
 
 last, in whose favor I could have imagined there 
 was aught to be said !— Speak, freely, Carmelite ; 
 for curiosity is as strong as wonder." 
 
 So truly did the Doge give utterance to his feel- 
 ings, that he momentarily forgot the presence of 
 the inquisitoT, whose countenance might have 
 shown him that the subject was getting to oe grave 
 
 The monk ejaculated a thanksgiving, for it was 
 not always easy, in that city of my^ry, to bring truth 
 to the ears of tl^ great. When men live under a 
 system «f duplicity, more or leas of the quali^ gets 
 interwoven with the habits of the most ingenuous, 
 although they may remain, themselves, unconscious 
 of the taint. Thus father Anselmo, as he proceed- 
 ed with the desired explanation, touched more ten- 
 derly on the practices of the state, and used more 
 of reserve in altuding to those usages and opinions, 
 which one of his holy calling and honest nature, 
 under other circumstaoces, would have fearlessly 
 condemned. 
 
 " It naay not be known to one of your high con- 
 dition, sovereign iprince," resumed the Carmelite, 
 '* that an humbfe, but laborious mechanic of this city, 
 a certain Francesco Frontoni, was long since con- 
 demned for frauds against the republic's revenue. 
 This is a crime St Mark never fails to visit with 
 his heavy displeasure, for when men place the 
 
 goods of the world before all other coiasiderations, 
 ley mistake the objects which have brought them 
 together in social Union." 
 
 " Father, thou wert speaking of a certain Fran- 
 cesco Frontoni ? " 
 
 "Highness, such was his name. The unhappy 
 man had taken into his confidence and friendship, 
 one, who, pretending to his daughter's love, might 
 appear to be< the master of his secrets. When this 
 false suitor stood on the verge of detection, for of 
 ftnees a^inst the customs, he laid a snare of de- 
 
460 THE BRAVO 
 
 ception, which, while he was permitted to escape 
 drfew the anger of tha state on his too confiding 
 friend. Francesco was condemned to the cells, un- 
 til he might reveal facts which never had an exist- 
 ence." 
 
 " This is a hard fate, reverend friar, could it be 
 but proved!" 
 
 " 'Tis the evil of secrecy and intrigue, great doge, 
 in managing the common interests ! — " 
 
 "Hast thou more of this Francesco, monk?" 
 
 " His history is short, Signore ; for at the age when 
 most men are active in looking to their welfare, he 
 was pining in a prison." 
 
 " I remember to have heard of some such accu 
 sation — but it occurred in the reign of the last doge^^ 
 did it not, father?" 
 
 " And he has endured to near the close of the 
 -eign of this, highness J" 
 
 " How ! The senate, when apprised of the error 
 of its judgment, was not slow to repair the wrong !" 
 
 The monk regarded the prince earnestly, as if he 
 would make certain whether the surprise he witness- 
 ed was not a piece of consummate acting. He felt 
 convinced that the affair was one of that class of 
 acts, which, however oppressive, tuijust, and de- 
 structive of personal happiness^ had not sufficient 
 importance to come before them, who govern under 
 systems which care more for their own preserva- 
 tion, than for the good of the ruled. "Signor 
 Doge," he said, " the state is discreet in matters that 
 touch its own reputation. There are reasons that I 
 shall not presume to examine, why the cell of poor 
 Francesco was kept closed, long after the death and 
 confession of his accuser left his innocence beyond 
 dispute." 
 
 The prince mused, and then he bethought him to 
 consult the countenance of his companion. The 
 marble of the pilaster, against which he leaned, was 
 
THE BRAVO. 461 
 
 not more cold and unmoved than the face of the in 
 quisitor. The man had learned to smother every 
 natural impulse in the assumed and factitious duties 
 of his office. 
 
 " And what has this case of Francesco to do with 
 the execution of the Bravo?" demanded the doge, 
 after a pause, in which he had in vain struggled to 
 assume the indifference of his counsellor. 
 
 " That I shall leave this prison-keeper's daughter 
 to explain — stand forth, child, and relate what you 
 know, remembering, if you speak before the prince 
 of Venice, that you also speak before the King of 
 Heaven 1" 
 
 Gelsomina trembled, for one of her habits, how- 
 ever supported by her motives, could not overcome 
 a nature so retiring without a struggle. But faithful 
 to her promise, and sustained by her affection for 
 the condemned, she advanced a step, and stood no 
 longer concealed by the robes of the Carmelite. 
 
 "Thou art the daughter of the prison-keeper?" 
 asked the prince mildly, though surprise was strongly 
 painted in his eye. 
 
 " Highness, we are poor, and we are unfortunate : 
 we serve the state for bread." 
 
 " Ye serve a noble master, child. Dost thou know 
 aught of this Bravo ?" 
 
 " Dread sovereign, they that call him thus, know 
 not his heart ! One more true to his friends, more 
 faithful to his word, or more suppliant with the saints, 
 tlian Jacopo Frontoni, is not in Venice!" 
 
 " This is a character which art might appropriate, 
 even to a bravo. But we waste the moments. — 
 What have these Frontoni, in common?" 
 
 " Highness, they are father and son. When Jacopo 
 came to be of an age to understand the misfortunes 
 of his family, he wearied the senators with applica- 
 tions in his father's behalf, until they commanded the 
 door of the cell to be secretly opened to a child so 
 2Q2 
 
462 THE BRAVO. 
 
 pious. I well know, great prince, that they who luk 
 cannot have all-seeing eyes, else could this wrong 
 never have happened. But Francesco washed years 
 in cells, chill and damp in winter, and scorching in 
 summer, before the falsehood of tiie accusation was 
 known. Then, as some relief to sufferings so little 
 merited, Jacopo was admitted." 
 
 « With what object, girl ?" 
 
 " Highness, was it not in pity? They promised 
 too, that in good time, the service of the son should 
 buy the father's liberty. The patricians were slow 
 to be convinced, and IJiey made terms with poor 
 Jacopo, who agreed to undergo a hard service, that 
 his father might breathe free air, before he died." 
 
 " Thou dealest in enigmas." 
 
 " I am little used, great doge, to speak in such a 
 presence, or on such subjects. But this I know, that 
 for three weary years hath Jacopo been admitted to 
 his father's cell, and that those up above consented 
 to the visits ; else would my father have denied them. 
 I was his companion in the holy act, and will call 
 the blessed Maria and the saints " 
 
 " Girl, didst thou know him for a bravo 1 " 
 
 " Oh ! Highness, no. To me he seemed a dutiful 
 child, fearing God and honoring his parent I hope 
 nevsr to feel another pang, like that which chilled 
 ray heart, when they said, he I had known as the 
 kind Carlo, was hunted in Venice as the abhorred 
 Jacopo ! But it is passed, the Mother of God be 
 praised!" 
 
 " Thou art betrothed to this condemned man?" 
 
 The color did not deepen on the cheek of Gelso- 
 mina, at this abrupt question, for the tie between hei 
 and Jacopo had become too sacred, for the ordinary 
 weaknesses of her sex. 
 
 " Highness, yes ; we were to be marrieid, should 
 .. have pleased God, and those great senators whc 
 
THE BRATO. 463 
 
 nave so much influence over the happiness of the 
 poor, to permit it" 
 
 " And thou art still willing, knowing the man, to 
 pledge thy vows to one like Jacopo ! " 
 
 " It is because I do know him to be as he is, that 
 I most reverence him, great doge. He has sold his 
 time and his good name to the state, in order to 
 save his imprisoned father, and in that I see nothing 
 to frighten one he loves." 
 
 " rniis affair needs explanation, Carmelite. The 
 girl has a heated fancy, and she renders that obscure 
 she should explain." 
 
 "Illustrious prince, she would say that the re- 
 public was content to grant the son the indulgence 
 of visiting the captive, with some encouragement 
 of his release, on condition that the youth might 
 «erve the police by bearing a bravo's reputation." 
 
 " And for this incredible tale, father, you have the 
 word of a condemned criminal !" 
 
 " With the near view of death befoie his eyes. 
 There are means of rendering truth evid«it, fa 
 miliar to those who are often near the dying peni- 
 tents, that are unknown to those of the world. 
 In any case, Signore, the matter is worthy of in- 
 vestigation." 
 
 " m that thou art right. Is the hour named for 
 the execution?" 
 
 " With the morning light, prince." 
 
 "And the father?" 
 
 « Is dead." 
 
 " A prisoner, Carmelite f" 
 
 " A prisoner^ Prince of Venice." 
 
 There was a pause. 
 
 " Hast thou (leard of the death of one named 
 Antonio?" 
 
 « Signore^ yes. By the sacred nature of my holy 
 office, do I amrm that of this crime is Jacopo inno 
 cent ! I shrived the fisherman." 
 
464 THK BRAVO. 
 
 The doge turned away, for the truth began to 
 dawn upon him, and the flush which glowed on his 
 aged cheek, contained a confession that might not 
 be observed by every eye. He sought the glance 
 of his companion, but his own expression of hu- 
 man feeling was met by the disciplined features of 
 the other, as light is coldly repelled from polished 
 stone. 
 
 "Highness !" added a tremulous voice. 
 
 " What would'st thou, child? " 
 
 "There is a God for the republic, as well as for 
 the gondolier ! Your highness will turn this great 
 crime from Venice ?" 
 
 " Thou art of plain speech, girl!" 
 
 " The danger of Carlo has made me bold. You 
 are much beloved by the people, and none speak 
 of you, that they do not speak of your goodness, 
 and of your desire to serve the poor. You are the 
 root -of a rich and happy family, and you will not 
 — nay, you cannot if you would, think it a crime 
 for a son to devote all to a father. You are our 
 father, and we have a right to come to you, even 
 for mercy — but, highness, I ask only for justice." 
 
 " Justice is the motto of Venice." 
 
 " They who live in the high favor of providence 
 do not always know what the unhappy undergo. 
 It has pleased God to afflict my own poor mother, 
 who hz3 griefs that, but for her patience and Chris- 
 tian faith, would have been hard to bear. The 
 little care I had it in my power to show, first caught 
 Jacopo's eye, for his heart was then full of the duty 
 of the child. Would your highness consent to see 
 poor Carlo, or to command him to be brought hither, 
 his simple tale would give the lie to every foul slan- 
 der they have dared to say against him. 
 
 " It is unnecessary — it is unnecessary. Thy faith 
 in his innocence, girl, is more eloquent than anv 
 words of his can prove." 
 
THE BRAVO. 465 
 
 A gleam of joy irradiated the face of Gelsomina, 
 who turned eagerly to the listening monk, as she 
 continued — 
 
 " His highness listens," she said, " and we shall 
 prevail !" Father, they menace in Venice, and 
 alarm the timid, but they will never do the deed we 
 feared. Is not the God of Jacopo my God, and 
 your God ? — the God of the senate, and of the doge . 
 —of the Council, and of the republic 1 I would the 
 secret members of the Three could have seen poor 
 Jacopo, as I have seen him, coming from his toil, 
 weary with labor, and heart-broken with delay, enter 
 the winter or the summer cell — chilling or scorching 
 as the season might be — and struggling to be cheer- 
 ful, that the falsely accused might not feel a greater 
 weight of misery. — Oh ! venerable and kind prince, 
 you little know^ the burthen that the feeble are often 
 made to carry, for to you hfe has been sunshine ; 
 but there are millions who are condemned to do 
 that they lothe, that they may not do that they 
 dread." 
 
 " Child, thou tell'st me nothing new." 
 
 " Except in convincing you, nighness, that Jaco- 
 Do is not the monster they would have him. I do 
 not know the secret reasons of the councils for 
 wishing the youth to lend himself to a deception 
 that had nigh proved so fatal ; but all is explained, 
 we haVe naught now to fear. Come, father; we 
 will leave the good and just doge to go to rest, as 
 suits his years, and we will return to gladden the 
 heart of Jacopo with our success, and thank the 
 Diessed Maria for her favor." 
 
 " Stay ! " exclaimed the half-stifled old man. " Is 
 this true that thou tellest me, girl : — Father, can it 
 oeso!" 
 
 " Signore, I have said all that truth and my con 
 science have prompted." 
 
 The prince seemed be (viidered, turning his look 
 
466 THE BRAVO. 
 
 from the motionless girl to the equally immovcble 
 member of the Three. 
 
 " Come hither, child," he said, his voice trembling 
 as he spoke. " Come hither, that I may bless thee." 
 Gelsomina sprang forward, and knelt at the feet of 
 her sovereign. Father Anselmo never uttered a 
 clearer or more fervent benediction than that which 
 fell from the lips of the prince of Venice. He 
 raised the daughter of the prison-keeper, and mo- 
 tioned for both his visitors to withdraw. Gelsomi- 
 na willingly complied, for her heart was already in 
 the cell of Jacopo, in the eagerness to communicate 
 her success ; but the Carmelite lingered to cast a 
 look behind, like one better acquainted with the 
 effects of worldly policy, when connected with the 
 interests of those who pervert governments to the 
 advantage of the privileged. As he passed through 
 the door, however, he felt his hopes revive, for he 
 saw the aged prince, unable any longer to suppress 
 his feelings, hastening towards his still silent com- 
 panion, 'with both hands extended, eyes moistening 
 with tears, and a look that betrayed the emotions 
 of one anxious to find relief in human sympathies 
 
 CHAPTEE XXXII. 
 
 " On— on— 
 It IS our knell, or that of Venice. — On." 
 
 Marino Faliero. 
 
 Another morning called the Venetians to theii 
 affairs. Agents of the police had been active iii 
 preparing the public mind, and as the sun rose 
 above the narrow sea, the squares began to fill. 
 There were present the curious citizen in his cjoali 
 
THE BRAVO. 46" 
 
 and cap, bare-legged laborers in wondering awr, 
 the circumspect Hebrew in his gaberdine and 
 beard, masked gentlemen, and many an attentive 
 stranger from among the thousands who still fre- 
 quented that declining mart. It was rumored that 
 an act of retributive justice was about to take place, 
 for the peace of the town and the protection of the 
 citizen. In short, curiosity, idleness, and revenge, 
 with all the usual train of human feelings, had 
 drawn together a muhitude eager to witness the 
 agonies of a fellow-creature. 
 
 The Dalmatians were drawn up, near the sea, in 
 a manner to inclose the two granite columns of the 
 Piazzetta. Their grave and disciplined faces fronted 
 inwards, towards the African pillars, those well- 
 known land-marks of death. A few grim warriors, 
 of higher rank, paced the flags before the troops, 
 while a dense crowd filled the exterior space. By 
 special favor, more than a hundred fishermen were 
 grouped within the armed men, witnesses that their 
 class had revenge. Between the lofty pedestals of 
 St. Theodore and the winged lion lay the block and 
 ax, the basket and the saw-dust ; the usual accom- 
 paniments of justice in that day. By their side, 
 stood the executioner. 
 
 At length a movement in the living mass drew 
 every eye towards the gate of the palace. A mur- 
 mur arose, the multitude waved, and a small body 
 of the Sbirri came into view. Their steps were 
 swift, like the march of destiny. The Dalmatians 
 opened to receive these ministers of fate into their 
 bosom, and closing their ranks again appeared to 
 preclude the world, with its hopes, from the con 
 •demned. On reaching the block between the col- 
 umns, the Sbirri fell off in files, waiting at a little 
 distance, while Jacopo was left before the engines 
 of death, attended by his ghostly counsellor, the 
 30 
 
468 THE BRAVO 
 
 Carmelite. The action left them open to the gaze 
 of the throng. 
 
 Father Anselmo was in the usual attire of a bare- 
 footed friar of his order. The cowl of the holy man 
 was thrown back, exposing his mortified lineaments, 
 and self-examining eye, to those around. The ex- 
 pression of his countenance was that of bewildered 
 uncertahity, relieved by frequent, but fitful, glim- 
 merings of hope. Though his lips moved constantly 
 in prayer, his looks wandered, by an irrepressible 
 impulse, from one window of the doge's palace to 
 another. He took his station near the condemned, 
 however, and thrice crossed himself, fervently. 
 
 Jacopo had tranquilly placed his person before 
 the block. His head was bare, his cheek colorless, 
 his throat and neck uncovered to the shoulders, his 
 body, in its linen, and the rest of his form, was clao 
 in the ordinary dress of a gondoher. He kneeled, 
 with his face bowed to the block, repeated a prayer, 
 and rising he faced the multitude, with dignity and 
 composure. As his eye moved slowly over the 
 array of human countenances by which he was en- 
 vironed, a hectic glowed on his features, for not 
 one of them all betrayed sympathy in his sufierings. 
 His breast heaved, and those nearest to his person 
 thought the self-command of the miserable man was 
 about to fail him. The result disappointed expect- 
 ation. There was a shudder, and the limbs settled 
 into repose. 
 
 " Thou hast looked in vain, among the multitude, 
 for a friendly eye 1 " said the Carmelite, whose at- 
 tention had been drawn to the convulsive move- 
 ment. 
 
 " None here have pity for an assassin." 
 
 " Remember thy Redeemer, son. He suffered 
 ignominy and death, for a race that denied hia God- 
 head, and derided his sorrows." 
 
THE BRATO. 4<I9 
 
 Jaropo crossed himself, and bowed his head, in 
 reverence. 
 
 " Hast thou more prayers to repeat, fatlier ? ** de- 
 manded the chief of the Sbirri ; ne who was par- 
 ticularly charged with the duty of the hour. 
 " Though the illustrious councils are so sure in jus- 
 tice, they are merciful to the souls of sinners." 
 
 " Are thy orders peremptory 1 " asked the monk, 
 unconsciously fixing his eye, again, on the windows 
 of the palace. " Is it certain that the prisoner is to 
 die?" 
 
 The officer smiled at the simplicity of the ques 
 tion, but with the apathy of one too much femiliar- 
 ized with human suffering, to admit of compassion. 
 
 " Do any doubt it 1 " he rejoined. " It is the lot 
 of man, reverend monk ; and more especially is it 
 the lot of those on whom the judgment of St. Mark 
 has alighted. It were better that your penitent look- 
 ed to his souL" 
 
 " Surely thou hast thy private and express com- 
 mands! They have named a minute, when this 
 bloody work is to be performed?" 
 
 " Holy Carmelite, I have. The time will not be 
 weary, and you will do well to make the most of it, 
 unless you have faith, already, in the prisoner's con 
 dition." 
 
 As he spoke, the officer threw a glance at the 
 dial of the square, and walked coolly away. The 
 action leil the priest and the prisoner again alone, 
 between the columns. It was evident that the for- 
 mer could not yet believe in the reality of the exe- 
 cution. 
 
 " Hast thou no hope, Jacopo?" he asked. 
 
 " Carmelite, in my God." 
 
 " They cannot commit this -wrong ! 1 stirived 
 Antonio — I witnessed his fate, and the prince knows 
 it!" 
 
 " What is a prince and his justice, where the self- 
 aR 
 
470 THE BRAVO. 
 
 ishness of a few rules ! Father, thou art new in the 
 senate's service." 
 
 " I shall not presume to say that God will blast " 
 those who do this deed, for we cannot trace the 
 mysteries of his wisdom. This life, and all thfs 
 world can offer, are but specks in his omniscient 
 eye, and what to us seems evil, may be pregnant 
 with goodi — Hast thou faith in thy Redeemer, Ja- 
 copo?" 
 
 The prisoner laid his hand upon his heart, and 
 smiled, with the calm assurance that none but those 
 .who are thus sustained can feel. 
 
 " We will again pray, my son." 
 
 The C^armelite and Jacopo kneeled, side by side, 
 the latter bowing his head to the block, while the 
 monk uttered a final appeal to the mercy of the 
 Deity. The former arose, but the lattpr continued 
 in the suppliant attitude. The monk was so full of 
 holy thoughts, that, forgetting his former wishes, he 
 was nearly content the prisoner should pass into the 
 fruition of that hope which elevated his own mind. 
 The officer and executioner drew near, the former 
 touching the arm of Father Anselmo, and pointing 
 towards the distant dial. 
 
 " The moment is near ;" he whispered, more 
 from habit, than in any tenderness to the prisoner. 
 
 The Carmelite turned instinctively towards the 
 palace, forgetting, in the sudden impulse, all but his 
 sense of earthly justice. There were forms at the 
 windows, and he fancied a signal, to stay the im- 
 pending blow, was about to be given." 
 
 " Hold ! " he exclaimed. " For the love of Maria 
 of most pure memory, be not too hasty ! " 
 
 The exclamation was repeated by a shrill female 
 voice, and then Gelsomina, eluding every effort to 
 arrest her, rushed through the Dalmatians, and 
 reached the group between the granite columns 
 
TIIK BRAVO. 471 
 
 Wonder and curiosity agitated tlie multitude, and a 
 deep murmur ran through the square. 
 
 ^ 'T is a maniac ' " cried one. 
 
 "'Tis a victim of his arts!" said another, for 
 when men liave a reputation for any particular vice, 
 the world seldom fails to attribute all the rest 
 
 Gelsomina seized the bonds of Jacopo, and en- 
 deavored, frantically, to release his arms. 
 
 " I had hoped thou would'st have been spared 
 this sight, poor Ges^na !" said the condemned. 
 
 " Be not alarmed 1 " she answered, gasping for 
 breath. " They do it in mockery — 'tis one of their 
 wiles to mislead — but they cannot — no, they dare 
 not harm a hair of thy hciad, Carlo ! " 
 
 " Dearest Gelsomina ! " 
 
 ^" Nay, do not hold me. — I will speak to the citi- 
 zens, and tell them all. They are angry now, bu. 
 when they know the truth they will love thee, Carlo, 
 as I do." 
 
 " Bless thee — bless thee ! — I would thou hadst 
 not come ! " 
 
 " Fear not for me ! I am little used to such a 
 crowd, but thou wilt see that I shall dare to speak 
 them fair, and to make known the truth boldly. 1 
 want but breath." 
 
 ".Dearest! Thou hast a mother — a father to 
 hare thy tenderness. Duty to them will make tnee 
 happy!" 
 
 " Now, I can speak, and thou shalt see how I 
 will vindicate thy name." 
 
 She arose from the arms of her lover, who, not 
 withstanding his bonds, released his hold of her 
 slight form with a reluctance greater than that with 
 which he parted with life. The struggle in the 
 mind of Jacopo seemed over. He bowed his bead, 
 passively, to the block, before which he was kneei- 
 ng, and it is probable, by the manner in which his 
 h ands were clasped, that he prayed for her who 
 
472 THE BRAVO. 
 
 left him. Not so Gelsomineu Parting her hair, over 
 her spotless forehead, with both hands, she advanced 
 towards the fishermen, who were familiar to her eye, 
 by their red caps and bare limbs. Her smile was 
 like that which the imagination would bestow on the 
 blessed, in their intercourse of love. 
 
 " Venetians !" she said, " I cannot blame you; ye 
 are here to witness the death of one whom ye be- 
 lieve unfit to live — " 
 
 " The murderer of old Antonio ! " muttered several 
 of the group. 
 
 "Ay, even the murderer of that aged and excel- 
 lent man. But, when you hear the truth, when you 
 come to know that he, whom you have believed an 
 assassin, was a pious child, a faithful servant of the 
 republic, a gentle gondolier, and a true heart, you 
 will change your bloody purpose, for a wish for 
 justice." 
 
 A common murmur drowned her voice, which 
 was so trembling and low, as to need deep stillness 
 to render the words audible. The Carmelite had 
 advanced to her side, and he motioned earnestly for 
 silence. 
 
 " Hear her, men of the Lagunesl" he said ; " she 
 utters holy truth." 
 
 " This reverend and pious monk, with Heaven, is 
 my witness. When you shall know Carlo better, 
 and have heard his tale, ye will be the first to cry 
 out for his release. I tell you this, that when the 
 doge shall appear at yon window and make the sig- 
 nal of mercy, you need not be angry, and believe 
 that your class has been wronged. Poor Carlo — " 
 
 " The girl raves !" interrupted the moody fisher 
 men. " Here is no Carlo, but Jacopo Frontoni, a 
 common bravo." 
 
 Gelsomina smiled, in the security of the innocent, 
 and, regaining her breath, which nervous agitation 
 ?till disturbed, she resumed. 
 
Tiu: BRAVO. 473 
 
 " Carlo, oi Jacopo — ^Jacopo, or Carlo — ^it matters 
 little." 
 
 '* Ha ! There is a sigu from the palace !" shouted 
 the Carmelite, stretching both his arms in that di 
 rection, as if to grasp a doou. The clarions sound- 
 ed, and another wave stirred the multitude. Grelso- 
 mina uttered, a cry of delight, and turned to throw 
 herself upon the bosom of the reprieved. The ax 
 glittered before her eyes, and the head of Jacopo 
 rolled upon the stones, as if to meet her. A gene^l 
 movement in the living mass denoted the end. 
 
 The Dalmatians wheeled mto column, the Sbirri 
 
 Eushed aside the throng, on their way to thrar 
 aunts, the water of the bay was dashed upon the 
 flags, thes clotted saw-dust was gathered, the head 
 and trunk, block, basket, ax, and executioner, dis- 
 appeared, and the crowd, circulated around the 
 fatnl spot 
 
 During this horrible and brief moment, neither 
 Father Anselmo nor Gelsomina moved. All was 
 over, and still the entire scene appeared to be de- 
 lusion. 
 
 " Take away this maniac !" said an officer of the 
 police, pointing to Gelsomina as he spoke. 
 
 He was obeyed with Venetian readiness, but his 
 words proved prophetic, before his servitors had 
 quitted the square. The Carmelite scarce breathed. 
 He gazed at the moving multitude, at the windows 
 of the palace, and at the sun which shone so glori 
 ously in the heavens 
 
 " Thou art lost in this crowd !" whispered one at 
 his elbow. " Reverend Carmelite, you will do well 
 to follow me." 
 
 The monk was too much subdued to hesitate. His 
 conductor led him, by many secret ways, to a quay, 
 where he instantly embarked, in a gondola, for the 
 main. Before the sun reached the meridian, the 
 thoughtful and trembling monk was on liis iourney 
 2K2 
 
474 TUe BRAVO. 
 
 towards the states of the Church : and ere long he 
 became established in the castle of Sapt' Agata. 
 
 At the usual hour the sun fell behind the moun- 
 tains of the Tyrd, and the moon reappeared above 
 the Lido. The narrow streets of Venice, again, 
 poured out their thousands upon the squares. The 
 mild light fell athwart the quaint architecture, and 
 the giddy tower, throwing a deceptive glory on the 
 city of islands. 
 
 ' The porticoes became brilliant with lamps, the 
 gay laughed, the reckless trifled, the masker pursued 
 his hidden purpose, the cantatrice and the grotesque 
 acted their parts, and the million existed in that va- 
 cant enjoyment which distinguishes the pleasures of 
 the thoughtless and the idle. Each lived for himself, 
 while the state of Venice held its vicious sway, cor- 
 rupting alike the ruler and the ruled, by its mockery 
 of those sacred principles which are alone founded 
 in truth and natural justice. 
 
 THK Ksa 
 
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