"For a secretary to an amba.s.sade is the age not set," answered the other warily, "and the office hath s.p.a.ce for diplomacy, which, it were better for our privileges, were used elsewhere than in Venice. And the honor of it would blind the eyes of his partizans--for the boy is young."
The winds, wandering through the Piazza, sometimes blew lightest whispers from the Broglio into the Council Chambers of the Republic; and so it was decreed that when the beautiful wedding pageant should be over, just as the whole of Venice would have laid itself at the feet of the charming bride--would have made the young n.o.bles of the palazzo Giustiniani the idols of the hour--these dangers to Venice should be honorably removed by the appointment of Marcantonio Giustiniani, di Maggior Consiglio, as Secretary to the Venetian Resident in Rome, with the gracious permission of the Senate for the Lady Marina to bear him company.
"It is well," answered Giustinian Giustiniani, as the Lady Laura made her little moan on hearing of the appointment which the Senator reported with such pride. "Marcantonio hath the head of a diplomat and the bearing of a courtier. It is the way of distinction for such a man."
"That is justly spoken," said the mother; "and n.o.bly hath our boy fulfilled our hope. In Venice, or elsewhere, must he ever win distinction. But to keep them in their palazzo near us--of this and of their happiness was I thinking--the sight of it is so beautiful."
The filing of the decree of the Senate had acted like a charm upon our Capo of the Ten: the importance thus accorded to the Ca" Giustiniani soothed every vestige of wounded pride, while the beauty and grace of his prospective daughter-in-law had filled him with a triumph which only the frigid stateliness of his habitual demeanor enabled him to conceal, so great was the revulsion from his former state of feeling.
"I tell thee, Lady Laura," said her husband, coming nearer and speaking low, "we may well be proud. All this trifling in art and knickknacks in which it hath pleased the boy to spend himself, like so many of his hose,[2] hath fluttered off from him like silken ribbons hanging harmless in the wind, and hath left him with a head quite clear of nonsense for the Senate"s work. _That day_"--he had referred to it so often that it had become an acknowledged division of time--"_that_ day when he made his speech not one arose to answer him; for the cunning of it was so simple one listened, fearing naught, until the end was reached; and the words of it were so few that the end was a surprise; and, lo! the Counsellors were confounded by the weight of his demand, and the reason for the justice of it, and the wit of its presentation--lying folded in a sentence scarce long enough for a preamble! And the boy! Holding himself like a prince and winning them all by his grace, as if he were a child! Nay, but I do forget he is a man, wearing honors from his country!"
[2] The young n.o.bles were called "the gay company of the hose."
"Giustinian, I fain would keep them here!"
"That is the woman"s side of it," said the Chief of the Ten, easily dismissing her plea. "But for Marcantonio the appointment is good. When the late-returned Amba.s.sador to His Most Christian Majesty did render his report before our Maggior Consiglio--an oration diplomatic and of weight--I noted many of our graver men with eyes observing Marcantonio closely, as they would mark how he weighed the speech of the old diplomatist."
"And Marco?"
"He seemed not to take note of them. Or it may be a grace that he hath, that he seemeth not to see; for he weareth the "pensieri stretti e viso sciolto"[3] meet for a Venetian councillor--age could not teach him better to guard his thought, but it would make the wearing of his careless face less easy. Or it may be that his mind hath s.p.a.ce for the speech only--one knows not! Save that all things come easily to him--even the most beautiful bride in Venice, raised from the ranks of the people to suit his whim!"
[3] Close-locked thoughts and open countenance.
"Giustinian! She will be our daughter, and none need question her dignity and grace."
"My Lady Laura, none knoweth better of her beauty and none so proud of her as I, who had thought to hide my head for the disgrace of it! But the daring of this son of ours doth make me gay! I am ready to give thee a compliment on thy bringing up, which often I had feared was over frivolous. And now, he hath the Republic before him, where to choose."
"Giustinian?"
She rested both hands on his shoulders and looked full in his eyes with the gravity of her question which was the dream of his life, and was often tacitly touched, when they conferred together in confidence.
"Ay," he answered, "even that, the highest--by favor of San Marco--he may win. For the grace of him maketh his head seem less."
But the shadow of the coveted Lion"s paw had suddenly overclouded him and changed his mood.
XIII
When the first faint flush of dawn was waking in the east, the fair, sweet face of Marina of Murano was outlined for the last time, vague as some dream memory, against the deep shadows of the interior, between the quaint columns that framed her window.
Birds were twittering in the vines of the pergola not far away; honeysuckles were pouring forth their fragrant morning oblations; and the salt sea-breeze wafted her its invigorating breath as the early tide, with slow, increasing motion, brimmed the channels that wound through the marshes on the borders of Murano and overflowed till the lagoon was a broad, unbroken vista of silver-gray, in whose shimmer and radiance, when the tide was at its full, the morning stars died out. But still they glistened dimly in the twilight of the sky to which she raised her questioning, believing eyes. Life was always beautiful to her loving soul; for when the shadows held a meaning deeper than she could solve, her answer was faith; and now, that her new joy was to grow out of a deep solitariness for the father so tenderly beloved, it was he who upheld her courage.
"Life may not be," he said, "without some shadow; this is the shade of thine, which, without it, were too bright. Heaven hath some purpose in its sending, but not that it should darken our eyes to miss the joy."
"The day will be o"er-lonely in this home, my father."
"Nay, Marina, let love suffice; so shall we be always together! Shall I not go to thee? And thou wilt come to me, bringing thy new interests and holding thy dear heart ever pure and loyal to Venice, and thy home, and thy G.o.d--not forgetting. For thou hast chosen with thy whole heart, my daughter?" since she had not answered. "Thou dost not fear thyself?"
"Dearest father," she had said, hiding her face in his tender embrace, "all of my heart which is not thine is wholly his--only my happiness is too great."
"Nay, daughter, since it is of G.o.d"s own sending; take all the joy and grieve not."
"Only at leaving thee."
"I would not keep thee here, to leave thee mourning and alone when my days are closed."
"Father!"
"Not to sadden thee, my child, but to show thee that life is linked to life--G.o.d wills it so. Thou and I are bound to that which has been and to that which is to be. We do not stand alone to choose. The sweetness of our life together should make it easier for me to yield thee to the fuller life which calleth thee. We must each bear our part in the beauty of the whole. For perfect love, there must be sacrifice."
She was thinking of these things as she stood in the gray dawn waiting for the beauty of the on-coming day, quite alone with her thoughts and with her G.o.d, the giver of this beauty; and often as she had stood there with her morning offering of trust and adoration, never before had the day-dawn seemed so full of mystery and promise, nor the new life which the morning held within its keeping so full of hope and beauty. The very tide, flowing round her island home, brought thoughts of her home that was to be, as it swept through the channels of the City of the Sea, past the palace where her lover was waiting, bringing murmurs and messages of liquid harmony. The marsh gra.s.ses swayed and yielded to its flow, lending new depths of color to the water-bed, as they bowed beneath the masterful current--so the difficulties which had seemed to beset their hopes had been vanquished by the resistless tide of his love and constancy.
The stars were lost in the deep gray-blue of the sky; a solemn stillness, like the presage of some divine event, seemed for a moment to hold the pulses of the universe; then a soft rose crept into the shimmer of the water and crested the snows on the distant Euganean Hills, the transient, many-tinted glory of the east reflected itself in opal lights upon the silver sea, then suddenly swept the landscape in one dazzling glow of gold--and the joy-bells rang out. For to-day a festa had been granted in Murano.
Then, wrapping herself closely in the soft folds of her gray mantle, falling Madonna-wise from her head and shrouding her figure, she glided for the last time over the _ponte_ and down past the sleeping homes of Murano; for it was yet early for matins, and she would have the Madonna all to herself as she knelt with her heart full of tenderness for the dear life this day should merge in that other which beckoned her with joyous antic.i.p.ation--yet stilled to serenity by the golden glory and promise of the dawn, and the beautiful, self-sacrificing, upholding faith of the great-hearted Girolamo.
He had followed her and folded her pa.s.sionately to his heart, as she crossed the threshold of their home on her way to San Donato. "I must be first," he said, "to bless thee on thy bridal day. Fret thee not, for thou art bidden to a mission, since thou goest forth from the people to the highest circle of the n.o.bles. And love alone hath bidden and drawn thee. Forget it not, Marina! So shall a blessing go with thee and rest upon thee!"
She had brought a gift to the Madonna of San Donato--an exquisite altar lamp of ivory and silver--and from the flowers which she had laid upon the altar while she knelt in prayer, she gathered some to scatter over the grave of the tiny Zuane.
When Marina returned slowly through the little square, Murano was awake; the painted sails of the fishing-boats were tacking in the breeze, the activities of the simple homes had commenced, women with their water-jugs were chatting round the well, detaining little ones clinging to the fringes of the tawny mantles which hung below their waists; a few stopped her with greetings; here and there a child ran to her shyly--their mothers, from the low cottage doorways, calling to them that "the donzel Marina had given them festa."
Yes, there was to be festa in Murano. Girolamo had obtained from the Senate the grace of providing it. For now, since his daughter would have no need of the gold which his industry had brought him, he might spend it lavishly on her wedding day to gladden the hearts of the people whom she was leaving; for to him this bridal had a deeply consecrated meaning which divested it of half its sadness.
The workmen of Murano were to have holiday, and a great feast was spread for them by Girolamo in the long exhibition hall of the stabilimenti, for which it had been needful to procure permission of the Senate; but for once it suited well the humor of this august and autocratic body that one of the people should, for a day, make himself great among them.
Thus for the inhabitants of Murano--men, women, and children--there was a welcome waiting the day long in the house of the bride, where they should come to take her bounty and shower their blessings; for this time only Murano had no voice for _critica_--it was too busy in congratulation.
When Marina reached her home she found it garlanded from column to column with festal wreaths of green, while the maidens from the village still lingered, veiling the walls between the windows with delicate frosts of fruit-bloom from the gardens of Mazzorbo. And closely following this village tribute came a priest from San Donato with the band of white-robed nuns who formed the choir of the Matrice, bearing perfumes of incense and benediction for the home of the bride, that all who pa.s.sed beneath its portal, going out or coming in, might carry blessing with their steps.
In Venice also there were joy-bells ringing; and to overflowing tables, spread in the water-storey of the Ca" Giustiniani, the people of Venice were freely bidden by silken banners floating legends of welcome above the open doorway. But now the expectant people were thronging the Piazza; the _fondamenta_ along the Riva was alive with color, balconies were brilliant with draperies, windows were glowing with vivid shawls, rugs, brocades--tossed out to lean upon in the splendor that became a fete; above them the s.p.a.ces were crowded with enthusiastic spectators in holiday dress; the children of the populace, shouting, ecstatic, ubiquitous, swarmed on the quay below.
The splendor of the pageant which brought a bride from Murano to the highest patrician circle of the Republic--to that house which held its patent of n.o.bility from those days of the seventh century when an ancestor had ruled as tribune over one of the twelve Venetian isles--was long remembered, almost as a royal wedding fete, and for days before and after it was the talk of Venice.
They were coming over the water to the sound of the people"s native songs and the echo of their laughter, the young men and maidens of Murano, in barks that were wreathed with garlands and brilliant with the play of color that the Venetians love.
"Maridite, maridite, donzela, Che dona maridada e sempre bela; Maridite finche la fogia e verde, Perche la zoventu presto se perde."[4]
[4] Marry, maiden, marry, For she that is wedded is ever fair; Marry then, in thy tender bloom, Since youth pa.s.seth swiftly.
By the port of the Lido many a royal pageant had entered into Venice, but never before had such a procession started from the sh.o.r.es of Murano; it made one feel fete-like only to see the _bissoni_, those great boats with twelve oars, each from a stabilimento of Murano, wreathed for the fete, each merchant master at its head, robed in his long, black, fur-trimmed gown and wearing his heavy golden chain, the workmen tossing blossoms back over the water to greet the bride, the rowers chanting in cadence to their motion:
"Belina sei, e"l ciel te benedissa, Che in dove che ti pa.s.si l"erba na.s.se!"[5]
[5] Beautiful thou art, and may Heaven bless thee, So that in thy footprints the gra.s.s shall spring.
A cry rang down the Ca.n.a.l Grande from the gondoliers of the Ca"
Giustiniani, who were waiting this sign to start their own train from the palazzo; for the bridal gondolas were coming in sight, with _felzi_ of damask, rose, and blue, embroidered with emblems of the Giustiniani, bearing the n.o.ble maidens who had been chosen for the household of the Lady Marina, each flower-like and charming under her gauzy veil of tenderest coloring. It was indeed a rare vision to the populace, these young patrician beauties whose faces never, save in most exceptional fetes, had been seen unveiled beyond their mother"s drawing-rooms, floating toward them in a diaphanous mist which turned their living loveliness into a dream.