MURANO AND THE GLASS-MAKERS.
The excursion to Murano must be made on a fine day, when the wind is
favorable and the sea calm, as it is frequently very rough near that
island. We leave Venice at the Fondamenta Nuove, and keep to the
north. It is but a half-hour's row to Murano, and the aspect of the
lagoon here is quite different from that to the south of Venice. To
the east lies the desolate marsh-land formerly called the Dogado,
where the Doge had preserves for fishing and shooting. From these
marshes came the wild duck which the Doge presented to every noble,
on December 4, Saint Barbara's Day.
We soon reach San Michele, the cemetery of Venice, to which the boats
with black flags, so often seen, are always going. The sight of it
reminds us of Mr. Howells and his "Venetian Life:"--
"As we go by the cemetery of San Michele, Piero the gondolier and
Giovanna improve us with a little solemn pleasantry.
"'It is a small place,' says Piero, 'but there is room enough for all
Venice in it.'
"'It is true,' asserts Giovanna; 'and here we poor folks become
landowners at last.'"
We stay here long enough to see the handsome church built by Moro
Lombardo in 1466; to examine the statues by Bernini, which, to say
truth, do not seem to strike the Venetian key-note; and to read the
name of Fra Paolo Sarpi in the pavement, beneath which lies this
brave {122} defender of Venice against Pope Paul V. From the
Carmelite convent of San Michele went Placido Zurla to be made a
cardinal, and that Cappelari who ascended the papal throne, in our
own century, as Gregory XVI. Here also lived Frate Mauro, who made
in 1457 the celebrated Mappa-Mondo for Alphonso V. of Portugal. It
is now in the library of St. Mark, and is a geographical encyclopædia
of all that was known about our planet at that time.
It would be folly to attempt a new description of the panorama before
us when we can quote a sentence from Ruskin which thus outlines the
scene between Venice and Murano:--
"The pure cumuli of cloud lie crowded and leaning against one
another, rank beyond rank, far over the shining water, each cut away
at its foundation by a level line, trenchant and clear, till they
sink to the horizon like a flight of marble steps, except where the
mountains meet them, and are lost in them, barred across by the gray
terraces of those cloud foundations, and reduced into one crestless
bank of blue, spotted here and there with strange flakes of wan,
aerial, greenish light, strewed upon them like snow. And underneath
is the long dark line of the mainland, fringed with low trees; and
then the wide waving surface of the burnished lagoon trembling
slowly, and shaking out into forked bands of lengthening light the
images of the towers of cloud above. To the north, there is first
the great cemetery wall, then the long stray buildings of Murano, and
the inland villages beyond, glittering in intense crystalline
vermilion, like so much jewelry scattered on a mirror, their towers
poised apparently in the air a little above the horizon, and their
reflections, as sharp and vivid and substantial as themselves, thrown
on the vacancy between them and the sea. And thus the villages seem
standing on the air; and to the east there is a cluster of ships that
seem sailing on the land; for the sandy line of the Lido stretches
itself between us and them, and we can see the tall white sails
moving beyond it, but not the sea; {123} only there is a sense of the
great sea being indeed there, and a solemn strength of gleaming light
in the sky above."
Between the cemetery and Murano there is little more than a channel,
and we enter a canal with narrow quays on each side, three or four
feet above the canal. The houses, now inhabited by poor people, have
certain really beautiful features in doorways and windows, which
indicate that Murano "has seen better days." At present there is the
sort of stir that belongs to a manufacturing town the world
over,--street-cries from the dealers in fruits and fish; glass-makers
coming and going, stopping now and then to speak with the women who
are knitting in the doorways,--and altogether an air of active,
practical life that is very unlike Venice itself.
Our first visit is naturally to the Cathedral of San Donato. The
origin of this church is thus given in the legends: Otho the Great,
who died in 973, had a vision in which the Virgin Mary showed him a
triangular meadow covered with scarlet lilies, and desired him to
build there a church in her honor. Nearly two centuries later, when
the Doge Michiele II. brought from Cephalonia the embalmed body of
Saint Donato, and gave it to this church, that saint was joined with
the Virgin as its patron, and the cathedral henceforth called by his
name. It is probable that the whole church was then rebuilt. At all
events, the architecture is unmistakably of the twelfth century, and
is very interesting, especially the semicircular apse, with its
double rows of round arches and its beautifully sculptured marbles.
The remarkable balustrade around the upper gallery is also
noticeable; and the chief interest of this church, which stands in
the northern angle of the triangle, is in its exterior. The
campanile, a few yards away, is heavy; and the modern buildings, with
their ugly square windows and blank walls, make it difficult to enjoy
even the little {124} that remains from the old days. There is a
ruined flag-staff foundation, with the iron hasps that held the
standard still remaining, and a well with the date 1502. The
interior of San Donato has been so changed in recent times that it is
simply commonplace, with the exception of the pavement, which is
beautifully inlaid, and dates from 1140, and a Madonna in Greek
mosaic, which is a remarkable imitation of the Byzantine, though by
no means beautiful. Doubtless some of the columns with delicately
sculptured capitals were brought from Altinum.
The Church of the Angels must be visited for the sake of the Madonna
by Gian Bellini, which was painted for the Doge Barberigo in 1488,
and presented to the convent in which two of his daughters had taken
the veil. The Doge, in all the pomp of his official attire, is
presented to the Virgin by Saints Mark and Augustine. It is a most
interesting picture, as are all those by this old painter, who loved
to paint the Divine Mother and Child with their attendant saints and
angels; and, as in this picture, with "beds of weeds and flowers, in
which the crane, the peacock, and partridge alike elect to
congregate."
But it is not for its churches, its architecture, or works of art
that Murano is known to us. Neither is it of this Murano, with its
few thousand inhabitants and less than a dozen manufactories, that we
have been accustomed to think. It is of that Murano on which dwelt
thirty thousand people, and from which ascended the smoke of three
hundred furnaces, the fires of which were nearly all extinguished
after the fall of the Republic. Now, however, in the new life that
has come to Italy, the glass-making of Murano is reviving.
Salviati has done much to restore the art to its old-time excellence;
and other countries again depend on {125} Venice for many of these
products. Again the beads of Murano are very beautiful, and an
important element of commerce; and though many of the objects now
made are more fantastic than useful, they are also very beautiful.
Salviati imitates both the old glass and the mosaics, and varies his
products in a thousand forms, which are still tinted with the old and
famous colors,--_girasole_ (opal), _acqua marina_, _rubino_,
_lattimo_, _giallo d'oro_, and many others.
The frieze of mosaic at the South Kensington Museum in London, and
the ceiling of the vestibule which leads from the grand staircase to
the foyer in the Paris Opera House are excellent specimens of the
modern mosaic work of Murano, which is now in full revival, and takes
the first place in the world, as it did centuries ago. The following
description of some splendid pieces made for Mr. H. Furber, of
Chicago, shows the present importance of this art in Venice. They
are intended for the "Columbus Palace" near the grounds of the
"Columbian Exposition":--
"Among the important works recently executed is a large mosaic panel
representing Columbus being received by Queen Isabella and King
Ferdinand of Spain after his return from America. This panel,
measuring about two hundred square feet, shows Columbus when kneeling
before the sovereigns, presenting to them the natives of the newly
discovered land, and some products of the soil. The persons
represented are about thirty-eight in number, many of them of the
natural size, formed in three principal groups. In the most
important group is Columbus, having at his side the young crown
prince and the sovereigns, surrounded by the dignitaries of the
court, ladies and noblemen, and pages holding the standards. In the
middle group, but more to the left, are the native Indians; and near
the entrance of the hall other Spanish nobles and the companions of
Columbus. The gorgeous and various attires of all the figures, their
warlike implements, the splendid stuffs of all sorts and {126} tints,
the rich decoration of the hall, the pageantry of the court, the
strange tones and costumes of the natives in full contrast with the
others, and the various attitudes of all these personages form a
whole in perfect harmony with the details of the scene, owing to the
excellent distribution of the figures, and the perfect fusion of
tints. The work is so delicately executed that no one can believe
that the panel is not painted until on touching it he discovers that
it is entirely composed of small enamel cubes, put together without
any aid of color or cement, and worked according to the mode of the
old Venetian mosaic school. This panel will form the pendant of
another representing Columbus landing in America."
No glass has been so famous as that of Venice, because no other
glass-makers have ever equalled the Venetians in the beauty of their
products, nor in the marvellous manner in which they varied the use
of their materials. Good authorities believe that this art was known
to the earliest settlers of the lagoons, although they used their
knowledge in the making of the necessities of life alone; but the
material of the antique glass and the Muranese glass is precisely the
same.
In 1292 the Grand Council, by a decree, ordered the removal of the
glass-workers to Murano, and the destruction of the furnaces at Riva
Alto. From the inauguration of this industry at Murano, the
Government was extremely jealous in preventing the secrets of
glass-making from being discovered by any strangers. From the year
1275 the export of lump glass, or of the materials used in its
composition, and even of broken glass, was forbidden, and a heavy
penalty attached to such acts; and from this time more stringent laws
were made, and at length the manufactories were put in charge of the
Council of Ten, so determined was the Republic to profit by the skill
of its workers. These anxieties were not unreasonable, since it is
known that men as high in position as the {127} ambassadors from
France had a sort of police in their employ, who attempted to bribe
the glass-workers, and to spy out the raw materials they used, and
their manner of combining them.
It appears most probable that to the original knowledge of the
earliest Venetians some additions must have been made from the
methods of the Oriental mosaic-workers, who were employed in San
Marco as early as the tenth century, although later the productions
of the Venetians were sought in the East, where the making of fine
glass had come to be a lost art. That this is true is proved by an
order still existing for four hundred mosque lamps, bearing verses
from the Koran, in colored enamels, to be made for the Grand Vizier
of the Sultan. The Arabic influence which is so clearly shown in
Venetian glass is supposed to have come from the specimens of glass
found in the Roman Campagna, and in many other places in Italy, such
as Nola, Campania, and so on, which in all probability were used as
models at Murano.
Venice gained immense sums by her trade in glass beads alone. Their
place in commerce is almost incredible, especially when they began to
be covered with enamels, gold, and opaline colors. The Orientals
exchanged for them silks, spices, precious metals, and all sorts of
exquisite tissues. They found their way all over the world, and in
modern days have been seen in central Africa, where they were used
for money. The shrewd Venetians valued their exquisite pieces of
glass, their vases, goblets, mirror frames, and ewers; but they were
most jealous in the protection of their bead trade and manufacture.
From the eleventh to the fourteenth century the preparation of enamel
for mosaic work was the most important department of the glass-works
at Murano, and the mosaic glass there made has never been equalled in
beauty or durability elsewhere. Even pavements in San Marco, {128}
made from this glass, and now five or six centuries old, are still
perfect in color, joints, and setting.
Salviati gives the name of glass to the Venetian manufacture alone,
and applies "crystal or crystallified glass" to all other varieties,
and Yriarte says:--
"These makers have but one object, to imitate the quality of crystal.
Thus, when they have perfected the properties of clearness and
brilliancy, they set about increasing the attractiveness of their
productions by cutting them after they have been first run in moulds;
that is to say, by employing mechanical means to obtain something
like the richness, the variety of form, and vigor of line which alone
can insure it success in the market. But to do this is to demand
from glass qualities which it ought not to yield, and to change its
nature, depriving it of its two essential qualities,--lightness and
ductility.
"The glory of Murano is to have preserved the special properties of
the material, and to have made it yield all the beauties of which it
was capable."
These workers at Murano had two great advantages,--the material they
used was ductile, light, especially brilliant, and possessed of
vitreous appearance quite unique; and, added to these important
conditions, the workmen had natural good taste, and the immense aid
of historical traditions,--and by wisely employing its own resources
Murano attained its great reputation; its forms and colors have not
been equalled, and that they could be excelled is past imagining.
We know the name of the man who made mosaics for San Marco in 1100.
It was Pietro, and he worked for the Doge Vitale Michiele I. In 1268
the glass-workers had formed a corporation. In 1292 they settled
permanently on Murano. In 1329 they were employed to furnish glass
for churches in other cities; and in 1376 the Senate declared that a
master glass-maker might marry the daughter of a noble, and their
children be held as of noble {129} rank. It was at this time that
the Venetian glass-workers decorated the fine edifices all over
Italy, and made the windows for the Cathedral of Milan.
So vast had the industry now become that it was divided into
specialties,--the _verixelli_ made small objects and beads; the
_phioleri_ made bottles. In the beginning of the fifteenth century
Angelo Beroviero had the most famous furnace at Murano, at the sign
of the Angel. He made both vessels and windows, and being a learned
chemist knew how to give the most varied and beautiful colors to his
glass. Beroviero also made the discovery of a process by which to
apply enamel to glass in different colors. He made exquisite
goblets; and special designs were executed for marriage and birth
cups, or for any important occasion. Beroviero reached perfection in
his art, and his brothers and sons were never surpassed in enamelled
glass. To his son Marino may be ascribed the splendid glass in San
Giovanni e Paolo, made after the designs of Girolamo Mocetto in 1473.
In truth, it is to the Berovieri that the progress in glass-making is
due. They invented in 1463 that transparent glass called crystal;
and giving up the old simplicity of form and decoration, they became
bold and even audacious in their work. They used gold and enamel,
and made those occasional pieces, now so precious, on which the
designs and inscriptions furnish historical scenes from the fifteenth
century.
In the beginning of the sixteenth century Andrea Vidaore invented the
process of making artificial pearls with the enameller's blow-pipe,
and later he invented glass jet, both of which discoveries became
very remunerative. In 1507 two Muranese petitioned the Council of
Ten for a grant of the monopoly of mirror glass all over the Republic
for twenty-five years, and for permission to keep their fires lighted
during the two months and a half {130} when all the fires were bound
to be extinguished. Prior to this time the method of preparing
mirror glass had been known and was used elsewhere; but at Venice the
metal plates had been retained. Now, however, began the growth of
that enormous industry in mirror plates which has retained its
importance even in recent times, and which other nations have tried
to appropriate.
The art of cutting glass in facets, and imitating precious stones, as
well as of coloring "crystal" glass, was discovered in 1605; and all
these inventions brought great wealth to the glass-workers, some of
whom purchased nobility for themselves and their descendants.
Through Colbert, France succeeded in competing with Murano. England
did the same by aid of the Duke of Buckingham; and Bohemia gave
itself up to glass manufacture in such a way that the Venetian
industry suffered at the end of the seventeenth century. Giuseppe
Briati, a passionate lover of his art, left Murano, and took service
in a manufactory at Prague, and having learned the Bohemian secrets,
he returned to Venice in 1736, and obtained a license, for ten years,
to manufacture and sell crystals made in the Bohemian fashion.
Briati established himself in Venice in the Via del Angello Raffaelo.
At this period mirrors were framed with flowers and foliage of cut
glass, in relief, and lustres were decorated with flowers, grapes,
and leaves in brilliant colors. _Filigrana_ (filigree), too, was
much in favor; and some of Briati's vases in this style are now very
precious on account of their refinement of form and taste. Briati
died in 1772, but at Murano his art survived.
In 1790 a license was granted to Giorgio Barbaria to make black
bottles for export to England; and soon after he manufactured jet and
enamels. Barbaria was the deputy of Murano until the fall of the
Republic, when the island became almost a desert, and its master
workmen {131} and journeymen sought in other lands the bread they
could no longer earn at Murano.
There are many interesting stories and traditions connected with the
Berovieri. Angelo, who was the superior of them all, inherited a
good business, and by his own discoveries became very rich. He had a
large shop in Venice, besides his factory on Murano, from which he
shipped immense quantities of glass to various ports in Europe and
the Orient. His dwelling was in a part of Murano that was free from
the smoke of the furnaces. It was of marble, and very handsome
without, while within it was most luxurious and elegant. The garden
stretched to the water's edge, and was laid out with much taste.
Large trees afforded grateful shade at midday, and spicy odors from
the flowers combined with the songs of the nightingales of the aviary
in satisfying the senses. There were arbors so sheltered by vines
that one could watch the gondolas on the blue waters and be quite
unseen, and the lovely view was fitly crowned by the purple mountains
in the distance.
Beroviero was fortunate in all the circumstances of his life. His
beautiful wife was a wealthy lady of Milan. His son, Marino, was of
great promise, and his two daughters were lovely girls, who had
inherited their mother's beauty and their father's intellect. But
one sorrow had penetrated even here. The eldest, Felicia, from a
fall in childhood, had weakened her spine, and was forced to spend
much of her life in a recumbent position.
When Buona, the younger, reached a marriageable age, there were many
suitors for her hand among the young nobles of Venice. One day when
Signor Beroviero was very busy, his wife sent him a note:--
Hasten home. I am in a great perplexity. The two young nobles, Da
Canale and Mocenigo, have come separately {132} to sue for Buona.
Mocenigo was first, and he is with me and Buona now; and we have put
Da Canale in another room to talk to Felicia. Hasten to our rescue!
Your wife.
Most impatient at the interruption, Beroviero left his counting-house.
Meanwhile the comedy was played by his wife and daughters. Signora
Beroviero had heard that Buona was much admired, and her father had
already received several offers for her hand, to which he had replied
that his daughter should be won, not sold. Acting on this hint,
these two young men had come to win her if possible. Both were
members of the Great Council, and of high position. Mocenigo had
been shown to the drawing-room, and received by Signora Beroviero and
Buona. Before the usual compliments were exchanged, Da Canale
arrived, and was taken to a charming room opening on the garden,
where Felicia was busy with her embroidery. He was splendidly
attired, and had evidently come on a visit of importance. He
displayed some impatience, as he threw off his cloak, and saw his
companion; but Felicia entertained him as best she could until her
father came, and held him in conversation until Mocenigo, who had
been told of the presence of his rival, could retreat,--for Signora
Beroviero had set her heart on Mocenigo for her son-in-law. But
Buona was of quite another opinion, and in spite of all the praises
of him that she heard she refused to marry him; and when her mother
appealed to the father, his only reply was, "She is free to marry as
she chooses."
Just at this time Beroviero received an order from the Doge for a
collection of glass to be presented to the Emperor Frederick III. on
the occasion of his visit to Venice. This caused a great excitement.
The father, son, and three advanced apprentices were constantly in
solemn conclave. Among these last was one Giorgio, who, although the
senior, had made small advance in his {133} art. When the important
matter in hand was well understood, and a proper part assigned to
each one, all the resources of the manufactory were devoted to making
a grand display of Venetian skill in color and design.
Other glass-workers were filled with jealousy of Beroviero, when the
truth about this order was known; and this feeling was not lessened
by the magnificent display which was soon made in the window of his
shop in Venice. Naturally many strangers came hither on account of
the proposed visit of the Emperor, and all the tradesmen of the city
were making their shops as attractive as possible; but no other drew
such crowds of gazers as that of Beroviero, now that the gift from
the Doge to the Emperor was on exhibition. A large vase glowed like
a magnificent ruby; white flowers, as delicate and natural as if
actually growing, twined around a vase of glorious blue; while cups
and wineglasses of exquisite shape and ethereal thinness were in
contrast to goblets heavy with gold and enamel. But the chief object
was a lace-work goblet, such as was never made elsewhere. It was the
most wonderful of all the Venetian glasses, and so fragile was it
that its construction was a mystery. Marsh gives this account of the
method:--
"In manufacturing it the workman first of all placed threads of
opaque glass round the inside of a mould made of charcoal. Then he
dipped his rod into a pot of molten glass, and blew a drop out within
the mould until it touched the opaque threads, which at once adhered
to the outer surface of the glass. The goblet so blown was as thin
as the white film of an egg. Then a second goblet was blown, and the
opaque threads were made to adhere on the inner surface of the glass,
running in a reverse direction to those which adhered to the outer
surface of the first goblet. Thus the workman obtained two goblets,
the outside of one and the inner side of the other, bearing the
opaque threads of glass. Having secured this object, he next
proceeded to place {134} one glass inside the other. At the moment
the threads of opaque glass touched one another they adhered,
imprisoning in the centre of each diamond, formed by the threads
crossing one another, a fine bubble of air. The body of the goblet
was covered with these diamonds, the air bubble appearing in the
centre of each. Notwithstanding the fact that the goblet was
composed of two distinct casings, yet, when they were united, the two
presented a body not half as thick as an ordinary wafer. This
species of glass was the most exquisite that Venice ever produced."
Beroviero had been invited to be present when the Emperor received
this gift on which so much thought and labor had been lavished; and
at length the day arrived. The Emperor, with his young bride,
Elenora of Portugal, with a great assemblage of the rank and beauty
of Venice, and many noble visitors, were gathered in the great hall
of the Ducal Palace, where the Doge and high officials received them.
Beroviero, his wife, son, and Buona, with representatives from some
rival glass-works, were also there.
First the Doge presented to the Empress a crown set with jewels, and
many other costly articles of attire. He then offered to the Emperor
the splendid service of glass; to which his Majesty gave but slight
attention, even while the Doge was describing its beauty and value.
The Emperor replied in a cold and haughty tone; and while he was thus
expressing his thanks, his court-jester executed a pirouette, and hit
the tray containing the glass, which fell to the ground, shivered
into numberless pieces. The Emperor exclaimed, "Had they been of
gold or silver, that calamity could not have happened!"
The faces of the Doge and of the whole assembly expressed their
horror and anger; and the Emperor begged to be allowed to order
another set. But the Doge replied, "Venice does not sell her gifts!"
His Majesty offered large sums, but no glass-maker {135} would
undertake to replace what had been destroyed; and on the next day the
Emperor departed, while the episode of the glass-breaking was the
general topic of conversation in all Venice.
Beroviero was filled with surprise and rage, while his rivals
ridiculed him beyond endurance. The apprentices and workmen took
sides with their masters, and fierce encounters took place between
those of Beroviero and those of other factories. From that day
Angelo Beroviero was a different man. He neglected his business,
involved himself in quarrels, and was morose and irritable at home.
And now the dull, inattentive Giorgio came to the front, and
challenged the senior apprentices of the principal rival
establishments of Riva, Marcelli, and Gritti to a gondola tournament.
The latter declined; but two contests would take place, and a day was
fixed. Beroviero heard of this with pleasure, and was grateful to
Giorgio for this dignified method of showing himself the friend of
his master.
On the appointed day hundreds of gondolas were off Murano, while
crowds stood on the shore, and every balcony was filled with ladies
and gentlemen, all anxious to see the contest. Each combatant was
allowed an assistant to propel his gondola. This was usually the
youngest apprentice; and with Giorgio was Hector, a boy of fourteen,
and a very skilful oarsman. He stood in the stern, while Giorgio was
on the prow, bearing a leather shield and a blunt-headed lance. On
the prow was a figure of an angel, while the rival boats carried
their symbols of an anchor and a dolphin. Felicia could witness the
whole sport from her window; but Buona, with their maid Giannetta,
was on the shore.
At last two gondolas shot out from the crowd of boats, and sped
quickly towards a post moored at some distance {136} in the open
water. As Giorgio, lightly clad, stood on the prow of the Angel, and
approached the other gondola decorated with an anchor, the symbol of
the house of the Riva, it was easily seen that the other apprentice,
who was of heavy build, and handled his lance awkwardly, was no match
for Giorgio. As they neared the post, there was much applause; and
as Giorgio turned his eyes towards his master's garden, he saw a
handkerchief waving in the hand of Buona, who, as she saw the contest
about to begin, exclaimed, "Now God and Saint Mark be with him!"
Hearing this, her maid, Giannetta, uttered a little scream, for her
mistress had put her own thought in words, and blushing she said that
she had stepped on a sharp stone and hurt her foot; but in that
moment Buona knew that the maid loved Giorgio, and Giannetta feared
that her mistress cherished a like sentiment.
The two gondolas were now advancing towards each other. The lances
were lowered, the boats met and then separated, and it was seen that
the gondola with the anchor at the prow was empty. Both the champion
and his rower were gone. Giorgio had parried the opponent's lance,
and putting his own lance between the legs of his enemy, had toppled
him into the water, and then, as the lightened gondola passed him, a
vigorous push in the breast of the rower had sent him splashing after
his companion. These achievements were warmly applauded by the crowd
on shore; and a number of boats, full of his friends, quickly
surrounded that of Giorgio to congratulate him on his success.
By the usual rules of combat the victor was entitled to an hour for
repose before meeting his next opponent; but Giorgio signified his
readiness to begin again at once, and in a few minutes the gondola,
with a dolphin as its symbol, and an apprentice of the Marcelli on
its prow, rowed up to the starting-post. The second champion was
{137} far superior to the first; but after one or two slight thrusts
from the lances, Giorgio profited by a fortunate moment, and hurled
the second opponent into the water. Now was he a hero indeed, and
all possible honors were shown him by his friends and even by his
superiors. He had established a claim to the championship of all the
gondoliers of Murano, with which the Berovieri were as well pleased
as he.
This day had revealed Buona to herself, and she was horrified to find
that she was a rival to her own maid in the affections of a poor
apprentice. She determined to stifle this unworthy sentiment; but so
difficult did she find her task that physicians soon were summoned to
account for her blanched cheeks, and restore her to health.
Mocenigo, with her parents' consent, strove to arouse her to an
interest in life; but all was useless, and when fully convinced of
her utter indifference to him, he quietly ceased to visit her, and
she soon entered a convent.
She confided her secret grief to her confessor alone, and never
regretted the gay life she might have led at Venice as the bride of
some young noble. As years went on, and the poor sought aid at her
convent in their seasons of sorrow and suffering, the name of Suora
Buona was that most frequently on their lips.
From the day of the tournament Giorgio became seriously attentive to
his business, and before very long he presented his master with a
goblet, asking him to accept his first discovery. Beroviero examined
it with curious delight. The inside was perfectly smooth, while the
outside was covered with a thousand irregular cracks, and the whole
looked as if it had been frosted. Beroviero was filled with
surprise, and declared the goblet to be beautiful and entirely new.
Giorgio explained that his discovery was an accident, as most
discoveries are. He had observed the effect on a {138} drop of hot
glass when it fell into the water. It became crackled and frosted,
and he at once tried the same thing on his goblet. Beroviero assured
Giorgio that his discovery would prove of great value, and promised
to take the young man to the palace, that he might show the goblet to
the Doge. But that very evening the old glassmaker was attacked by
masked thieves as he was floating in his gondola, and survived his
wounds but a few hours.
Marino, who succeeded his father, claimed Giorgio's invention as the
property of the firm, as Giorgio was still an apprentice, and the
courts decided in his favor. Thus Marino had the sole right to make
crackled glass; and Giorgio, driven to desperation by this injustice,
stole the book in which Angelo Beroviero had written out all his
methods and discoveries, and made an exact copy of it. This he sold
to another firm, and with the proceeds set up a factory of his own.
He married Giannetta, and seemed to have a promising future before
him; but whatever he undertook ended unfortunately. The theft by
which he thought to found a fortune was heavy on his conscience, and
to it he attributed all his unhappiness. But under his son the
Ballerini (Giorgio was called Ballerino in derision) became
celebrated, and attained great eminence as glass-makers.
When Buona entered the convent, Felicia devoted herself to making an
altar-cloth, in which she used the most costly materials that she
could procure. The design was that of the Crucifixion. Three years
she labored on it, and at last all was completed save the crown of
thorns. She had constantly grown more and more fragile; and one
evening, as the sun was setting, she called her mother, saying, "See,
dear mother, the end is come. I have pointed the last thorn in His
earthly crown."
As she ceased speaking, her head drooped, and she was dead. She was
buried beneath the altar of the convent {139} church, and her
exquisite embroidery served both as a cloth for the altar and a
monument to her who had wrought it in loving faith.
Marino Beroviero maintained the reputation of his family, and made
still further advances in his art. His business was extensive and
prosperous, and a few years after his father's death he married the
sister of Mocenigo, the former suitor of Buona.
{140}