"I never pretended to the art. The little said was merely about writing.
Learning, as you well understand, Master Jacopo, is divided into reading, writing, and figures; and a man may well understand one, without knowing a word of the others. It is not absolutely necessary to be a bishop to have a shaved head, or a Jew to wear a beard."
"Thou would"st have done better to have said this at once; go, I will think of the matter."
Gino gladly turned away, but he had not left the other many paces before he saw a female form gliding behind the pedestal of one of the granite columns. Moving swiftly in a direction to uncover this seeming spy, he saw at once that Annina had been a witness of his interview with the Bravo.
CHAPTER IV.
""T will make me think The world is full of rubs, and that my fortune Runs "gainst the bias."
RICHARD THE SECOND.
Though Venice at that hour was so gay in her squares, the rest of the town was silent as the grave. A city in which the hoof of horse or the rolling of wheels is never heard, necessarily possesses a character of its own; but the peculiar form of the government, and the long training of the people in habits of caution, weighed on the spirits of the gay.
There were times and places, it is true, when the buoyancy of youthful blood, and the levity of the thoughtless, found occasion for their display--nor were they rare; but when men found themselves removed from the temptation, and perhaps from the support of society, they appeared to imbibe the character of their sombre city.
Such was the state of most of the town, while the scene described in the previous chapter was exhibited 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 beneath its light in a solemn but grand repose. Occasionally 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 richness and architectural beauty without. Our narrative now leads us to one of these patrician abodes of the first cla.s.s.
A heavy magnificence pervaded the style of the dwelling. The vestibule was vast, vaulted, and ma.s.sive. The stairs, rich in marbles, heavy and grand. The apartments were imposing in their gildings and sculpture, while the walls sustained countless works on which the highest geniuses of Italy had lavishly diffused their power. Among these relics of an age more happy in this respect than that of which we write, the connoisseur would readily have known the pencils of t.i.tian, Paul Veronese, and Tintoretto--the three great names in which the subjects of St. Mark so justly prided themselves. Among these works of the higher masters were mingled others by the pencils of Bellino, and Montegna, and Palma Vecchio--artists who were secondary only to the more renowned colorists of the Venetian school. Vast sheets of mirrors lined the walls, wherever the still more precious paintings had no place; while the ordinary hangings of velvet and silk became objects of secondary admiration, in a scene of nearly royal magnificence. The cool and beautiful floors, made of a composition in which all the prized marbles of Italy and of the East polished to the last degree of art, were curiously embedded, formed a suitable finish to a style so gorgeous, and in which luxury and taste were blended in equal profusion.
The building, which, on two of its sides, literally rose from out the water, was, as usual, erected around a dark court. Following its different faces, the eye might penetrate, by many a door, open at that hour for the pa.s.sage of the air from off the sea, through long suites of rooms, furnished and fitted in the manner described, all lighted by shaded lamps that spread a soft and gentle glow around. Pa.s.sing without notice ranges of reception and sleeping rooms--the latter of a magnificence to mock the ordinary wants of the body--we shall at once introduce the reader into the part of the palace where the business of the tale conducts us.
At the angle of the dwelling on the side of the smaller of the two ca.n.a.ls, and most remote from the princ.i.p.al water-avenue of the city on which the edifice fronted, there was a suite of apartments, which, while it exhibited the same style of luxury and magnificence as those first mentioned in its general character, discovered greater attention in its details to the wants of ordinary life. The hangings were of the richest velvets or of glossy silks, the mirrors were large and of exquisite truth, the floors of the same gay and pleasing 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 youthful 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 t.i.tian, was at that hour in her privacy, discoursing with her ghostly adviser, and one of her own s.e.x, who had long discharged the joint trusts of instructor and parent. The years of the lady of the palace were so tender that, in a more northern region, she would scarcely have been deemed past the period of childhood, though in her native land, the justness and maturity of her form, and the expression of a dark, eloquent eye, indicated both the growth and the intelligence of womanhood.
"For this good counsel I thank you, my father, and my excellent Donna Florinda will thank you still more, for your opinions are so like her own, that I sometimes admire the secret means by which experience enables the wise and the good to think so much alike, on a matter of so little personal interest."
A slight but furtive smile struggled around the mortified mouth of the Carmelite, as he listened to the naive observation of his ingenuous pupil.
"Thou wilt learn, my child," he answered, "as time heaps wisdom on thy head, that it is in concerns which touch our pa.s.sions and interests least, we are most apt to decide with discretion and impartiality.
Though Donna Florinda is not yet past the age when the heart is finally subdued, and there is still so much to bind her to the world, she will a.s.sure thee of this truth, or I greatly mistake the excellence of that mind, which hath hitherto led her so far blameless, in this erring pilgrimage to which we are all doomed."
Though the cowl was over the head of the speaker, who was evidently preparing to depart, and his deeply-seated eye never varied from its friendly look at the fair face of her he instructed, the blood stole into the pale cheeks of the maternal companion, and her whole countenance betrayed some such reflection of feeling at his praise, as a wintry sky exhibits at a sudden gleam from the setting sun.
"I trust that Violetta does not now hear this for the first time,"
observed Donna Florinda, in a voice so meek and tremulous as to be observed.
"Little that can be profitably told one of my inexperience has been left untaught," quickly answered the pupil, unconscious herself that she reached her hand towards that of her constant monitor, though too intent on her object to change her look from the features of the Carmelite.
"But why this desire in the Senate to dispose of a girl who would be satisfied to live for ever, as she is now, happy in her youth, and contented with the privacy which becomes her s.e.x?"
"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 ill.u.s.trious by high deeds in arms, its riches, and its widely-spread influence. There is a law in Venice which commandeth that none claiming an interest in its affairs shall so bind himself to the stranger as to endanger the devotion all owe to the Republic. Thus may not the patrician of St. Mark be a lord in other lands, nor may the heiress of a name, great and valued as thine, be given in marriage 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 cla.s.s, this would not have been. Methinks it ill comports with the happiness of woman to be the especial care of the Council of Ten!"
"There is indiscretion, and I lament to say, impiety in thy words. Our duty bids us submit to earthly laws, and more than duty, reverence teaches us not to repine at the will of Providence. But I do not see the weight of this grievance against which thou murmurest, daughter. Thou art youthful, wealthy beyond the indulgence of all 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 s.e.x and station are, of necessity, subject!"
"For the offence against Providence I am already a penitent," returned the Donna Violetta. "But surely it would be less embarra.s.sing to a girl of sixteen, were the fathers of the state so much occupied with more weighty affairs as to forget her birth and years, and haply her wealth?"
"There would be little merit in being content with a world fashioned after our own caprices, though it may be questioned if we should be happier by having all things as we desire than by being compelled to submit to them as they are. The interest taken by the Republic in thy particular welfare, daughter, is the price thou payest for the ease and magnificence with which thou art encircled. One more obscure, and less endowed by fortune, might have greater freedom of will, but it would be accompanied by none of the pomp which adorns the dwelling of thy fathers."
"I would there were less of luxury and more of liberty within its walls."
"Time will enable thee to see differently. At thy age all is viewed in colors of gold, or life is rendered bootless, because we are thwarted in our ill-digested wishes. I deny not, however, that thy fortune is tempered by some peculiar pa.s.sages. Venice is ruled by a policy that is often calculating, and haply some deem it remorseless." Though the voice of the Carmelite had fallen, he paused and glanced an uneasy look from beneath his cowl ere he continued. "The caution of the senate teaches it to preclude, as far as in it lies, the union of interests that may not only oppose each other, but which may endanger those of the state. Thus, as I have said, none of senatorial rank may hold lands without the limits of the Republic, nor may any of account connect 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 hand the council see none to whom the favor may be extended without the apprehension of creating an influence here, in the centre of the ca.n.a.ls, which ought not to be given to a stranger. Don Camillo Monforte, the cavalier to whom thou art indebted for thy life, and of whom thou hast so lately spoken with grat.i.tude, has far more cause to complain of these hard decrees, than thou mayest have, in any reason."
""Twould make my griefs still heavier, did I know that one who has shown so much courage in my behalf, has equal reason to feel their justice,"
returned Violetta, quickly. "What is the affair that, so fortunately for me, hath brought the Lord of Sant" Agata to Venice, if a grateful girl may, without indiscretion, inquire?"
"Thy interest in his behalf is both natural and commendable," answered the Carmelite, with a simplicity which did more credit to his cowl than to his observation. "He is young, and doubtless he is tempted by the gifts of fortune and the pa.s.sions of his years to divers acts of weakness. Remember him, daughter, in thy prayers, that part of the debt of grat.i.tude may be repaid. His worldly interest here is one of general notoriety, and I can ascribe thy ignorance of it only to a retired manner of life."
"My charge hath other matters to occupy her thoughts than the concerns of a young stranger, who cometh to Venice for affairs," mildly observed Donna Florinda,
"But if I am to remember him in my prayers, Father, it might enlighten my pet.i.tion to know in what the young n.o.ble is most wanting."
"I would have thee remember his spiritual necessities only. He wanteth, of a truth, little in temporalities that the world can offer, though the desires of life often lead him who hath most in quest of more. It would seem that an ancestor of Don Camillo was anciently a senator of Venice, when the death of a relation brought many Calabrian signories into his possession. The younger of his sons, by an especial decree, which favored a family that had well served the state, took these estates, while the elder transmitted the senatorial rank and the Venetian fortunes to his posterity. Time hath extinguished the elder branch; and Don Camillo hath for years besieged the council to be restored to those rights which his predecessor renounced."
"Can they refuse him?"
"His demand involves a departure from established laws. Were he to renounce the Calabrian lordships, the Neapolitan might lose more than he would gain; and to keep both is to infringe a law that is rarely suffered to be dormant. I know little, daughter, of the interests of life; but there are enemies of the Republic who say that its servitude is not easy, and that it seldom bestows favors of this sort without seeking an ample equivalent."
"Is this as it should be? If Don Camillo Monforte has claims in Venice, whether it be to palaces on the ca.n.a.ls, 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 Republic vaunts more of the sacred quality than it practises."
"Thou speakest as a guileless nature prompts. It is the frailty of man, my daughter, to separate his public acts from the fearful responsibility of his private deeds; as if G.o.d, in endowing his being with reason and the glorious hopes of Christianity, had also endowed him with two souls, of which only one was to be cared for."
"Are there not those, Father, who believe that, while the evil we commit as individuals is visited on our own persons, that which is done by states, falls on the nation?"
"The pride of human reason has invented diverse subtleties to satisfy its own longings, but it can never feed itself on a delusion more fatal than this! The crime which involves others in its guilt or consequences, is doubly a crime, and though it be a property of sin to entail its own punishment, even in our present life, he trusts to a vain hope who thinks the magnitude of the offence will ever be its apology. The chief security of our nature is to remove it beyond temptation, and he is safest from the allurements of the world who is farthest removed from its vices. Though I would wish justice done to the n.o.ble Neapolitan, it may be for his everlasting peace that the additional wealth he seeks should be withheld."
"I am unwilling to believe, Father, that a cavalier, who has shown himself so ready to a.s.sist the distressed, will easily abuse the gifts of fortune."
The Carmelite fastened an uneasy look on the bright features of the young Venetian. Parental solicitude and prophetic foresight were in his glance, but the expression was relieved by the charity of a chastened spirit.
"Grat.i.tude to the preserver of thy life becomes thy station and s.e.x; it is a duty. Cherish the feeling, for it is akin to the holy obligation of man to his Creator."
"Is it enough to feel grateful!" demanded Violetta. "One of my name and alliances might do more. We can move the patricians of my family in behalf of the stranger, that his protracted suit may come to a more speedy end."
"Daughter, beware; the intercession of one in whom St. Mark feels so lively an interest, may raise up enemies to Don Camillo, instead of friends."
Donna Violetta was silent, while the monk and Donna Florinda both regarded her with affectionate concern. The former then adjusted his cowl, and prepared to depart. The n.o.ble maiden approached the Carmelite, and looking into his face with ingenuous confidence and habitual reverence, she besought his blessing. When the solemn and customary office was performed, the monk turned towards the companion of his spiritual charge. Donna Florinda permitted the silk, on which her needle had been busy, to fall into her lap, and she sat in meek silence, while the Carmelite raised his open palms towards her bended head. His lips moved, but the words of benediction were inaudible. Had the ardent being intrusted to their joint care been less occupied with her own feelings, or more practised in the interests of that world into which she was about to enter, it is probable she would have detected some evidence of that deep but smothered sympathy, which so often betrayed itself in the silent intelligence 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 Florinda followed the white robes of the Carmelite, while they were visible; and when it fell again upon the silk, it was for a moment closed, as if looking at the movements of the rebuked spirit within. The young mistress of the palace summoned a menial, and bade him do honor to her confessor, by seeing him to his gondola. She then moved to the open balcony. A long pause succeeded; it was such a silence, breathing, 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.