"Let us lift up the curtain, and observe
What passes in that chamber."
ROGERS.
There were many rumors uttered in the fearful and secret manner which
characterized the manner of the town, in the streets of Venice that day.
Hundreds passed near the granite columns, as if they expected to see the
Bravo occupying his accustomed stand, in audacious defiance of the
proclamation, for 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 disappointed. Much was also said, vauntingly, in behalf
of the Republic's justice, for the humbled are bold enough in praising
their superiors; and he, who had been dumb for years on subjects of a
public nature, now found his voice like a fearless freeman.
But the day passed away without any new occurrence to call the citizens
from their pursuits. The prayers for the dead were continued with little
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. Ere 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 submission, which gives
the subject of its influence a feeling of atonement, when he who has
long played the superior comes down from his stilts, and confesses the
community of human frailties!
The square of St. Mark filled at the usual hour, the patricians deserted
the Broglio as of wont, and the gaieties of the place were again
uppermost, before the clock had struck the second hour of the night.
Gondolas, filled with noble dames, 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 society was not to be arrested, merely
because the wronged were unavenged, or the innocent suffered.
There stood, then, on the grand canal, as there stand now, many palaces
of scarcely less than royal magnificence. The reader has had occasion to
become acquainted with one or two of these splendid edifices, and it is
now our duty to convey him, in imagination, to another.
The peculiarity of construction, which is a consequence of the watery
site of Venice, gives the same general character to all the superior
dwellings of that remarkable town. The house to which the thread of the
narrative now leads us, had its water-gate, its vestibule, its massive
marble stairs, its inner court, its magnificent suites of rooms above,
its pictures, its lustres, and its floors of precious stones embedded in
composition, like all those which we have already found it necessary to
describe.
The hour was ten, according to our own manner of computing time. A small
but lovely family picture presented itself, deep within the walls of the
patrician abode to which we have alluded. There was a father, a
gentleman who had scarcely attained the middle age, with an eye in which
spirit, intelligence, philanthropy, and, at that moment, paternal
fondness were equally glowing. He tossed in his arms, with paternal
pride, a laughing urchin of some three or four years, who rioted in the
amusement which brought him, and the author of his being, for a time
seemingly on a level. A fair Venetian dame, with golden locks and
glowing cheeks, such as Titian loved to paint her sex, reclined on a
couch nigh by, following the movements of both, with the joint feelings
of mother and wife, and laughing in pure sympathy with the noisy
merriment of her young hope. A girl, who was the youthful image of
herself, with tresses that fell to her waist, romped with a crowing
infant, whose age was so tender as scarcely to admit the uncertain
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?" he demanded.
"With thee, Paolo?"
"Not with me, dearest; I have affairs which will 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 interview 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 attendants. The crowing
infant and the noisy boy were dismissed to their beds, while the lady
and the eldest child descended to the gondola. Donna Giulietta was not
permitted to go unattended to her boat, for this was a family in which
the inclinations had fortunately 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 distance 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 six."
"Signore, there are six arm-chairs."
"'Tis well: when the first of my friends arrive, I will join them."
"Eccellenza, there are already two cavaliers in masks within."
The Signor 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 those 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
experience--and the time stole upon me unmarked. I pray for grace,
Messires; future diligence shall repair the present neglect."
Both the 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 ménage. I hope
you have duly considered 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 drawing a lot for the
secret council, my good fortune hath given me so excellent colleagues.
Believe me, I have discharged this awful trust, in my day, in less
agreeable company."
This flattering speech, which the wily old senator had made regularly to
all whom chance had associated with him in the inquisition, during a
long life, was well received, and it was returned with equal
compliments.
"It would appear that the worthy Signor Alessandro Gradenigo was one of
our predecessors," he continued, looking at some papers; for though the
actual three were unknown, at the time being, to all but a few
secretaries and officers of the state, Venetian policy transmitted their
names to their successors, as a matter of course,--"a noble gentleman,
and one of great devotion to the state!"
The others assented, like men accustomed to speak with caution.
"We were about to have entered on our duties at a troublesome moment,
Signori," observed another. "But it would seem that 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 cease to be remembered after the object was attained.
"The galleys must be manned, else would St. Mark quickly hang his head
in shame."
The Signor Soranzo, who had received some previous instruction in his
new duties, looked melancholy; but he, too, was merely the creature of a
system.
"Is there matter of pressing import for our reflection?" he demanded.
"Signori, there is every reason to believe that the state has just
sustained a grievous loss. Ye both well know the heiress of Tiepolo, by
reputation at least, though her retired manner of life may have kept you
from her company."
"Donna Giulietta is eloquent in praise of her beauty," said the young
husband.
"We had not a better fortune in Venice," rejoined the third inquisitor.
"Excellent in qualities, and better in riches, as she is, I fear we have
lost her, Signori! Don Camillo Monforte, whom God protect until we have
no future use for his influence! had come near to prevail against us;
but just as the state baffled his well laid schemes, the lady has been
thrown by hazard into the hands of the rioters, since which time there
is no account of her movements!"
Paolo Soranzo secretly hoped she was in the arms of the Neapolitan.
"A secretary has communicated to me the disappearance of the Duca di
Sant' Agata also," observed the third; "nor is the felucca, usually
employed in distant 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 elder. "The body of the
old fisherman must be laid quietly in the earth with as little risk of
future tumult as may be; and we have this notorious Jacopo to dispose
of."
"The latter must first be taken," said the Signor Soranzo.
"That has been done already. Would you think it, Sirs he was seized in
the very palace of the Doge!"
"To the block with him without delay!"
The old men again looked at each other, and it was quite apparent that,
as both of them had been in previous councils, they had a secret
intelligence, 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, Signori, 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 public an act of severe and
much-required 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, Signor 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 Inquisition. "My life on it, Signori, these
accusations come of private spleen, and are unworthy of the state's
attention. I have consorted much with the young lord of Sant' Agata, and
a more worthy gentleman 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 should feel these sympathies is nothing
strange."
"Venice hath her sympathies, as well as the youngest 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, Signore 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 of 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 examination will enlighten us much on the course which
policy may dictate."
"There can be but one policy when the protection of the lives 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 joined with us in this high duty, and myself, have already issued
the commands necessary to that object. The hour is near, and we will
repair to the chamber of the Inquisition in time to our duty."
The discourse then turned on subjects of a more general concern. This
secret and extraordinary tribunal, which was obliged to confine its
meetings to no particular place, which could decide on its decrees
equally in the Piazza or the palace, amidst the revelries of the
masquerade or before the altar, in the assemblies of the gay or in their
own closets, had of necessity much ordinary matter submitted to its
inspection. As the chances of birth entered into its original
composition, and God hath not made all alike fit for so heartless a
duty, it sometimes happened, as in the present instance, that the more
worldly of its members had to overcome the generous disposition of a
colleague, before the action of the terrible machine could go on.
It is worthy of remark, that communities always establish a higher
standard of justice and truth, than is exercised by their individual
members. The reason is not to be sought for, since nature hath left to
all a perception of that right, which is abandoned only under the
stronger impulses of personal temptation. We commend the virtue we
cannot imitate. Thus it is that those countries, in which public opinion
has most influence, are always of the purest public practice. It follows
as a corollary from this proposition, that a representation should be as
real as possible, for its tendency will be inevitably to elevate
national morals. Miserable, indeed, is the condition of that people,
whose maxims and measures of public policy are below the standard of its
private integrity, for the fact not only proves it is not the master of
its own destinies, but the still more dangerous truth, that the
collective power is employed in the fatal service of undermining those
very qualities which are necessary to virtue, and which have enough to
do, at all times, in resisting the attacks of immediate 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 free government, is more likely to keep the agents of a
nation near to its own standard of virtue than any other means. The
common opinion that a Republic cannot exist without an extraordinary
degree of virtue in its citizens, is so flattering to our own actual
condition, that we seldom take the trouble to inquire into its truth;
but, to us, it seems quite apparent that the effect is here mistaken 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 do 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
Republic 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 responsibility to public opinion existing in all the
branches of its administration, that conventional morality which
characterizes the common sentiment, 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 character,
and the charities of his domestic circle had assisted 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 collective interests and specious
necessities had made him admit sundry theories, which, presented in
another form, he would have repulsed with indignation. Still the Signor
Soranzo was far from understanding the full effects of that system
which he was born to uphold. Even Venice paid that homage to public
opinion, of which there has just been question, and held forth to the
world but a false picture of her true state maxims. Still, many of those
which were too apparent to be concealed were difficult of acceptance,
with one whose mind was yet untainted with practice; and the young
senator rather shut his eyes on their tendency, or, as he felt their
influence in every interest which environed him, but that of poor,
neglected, abstract virtue, whose rewards were so remote, he was fain to
seek out some palliative, or some specious and indirect good as the
excuse for his acquiescence.
In this state of mind the Signor Soranzo was unexpectedly admitted a
member of the Council of Three. Often, in the day-dreams of his youth,
had he contemplated the possession of this very irresponsible power as
the consummation of his wishes. A thousand pictures of the good he would
perform had crossed his brain, and it was only as he advanced in life,
and came to have a near view of the wiles which beset the
best-intentioned, that he could bring himself to believe most of that
which he meditated was impracticable. As it was, he entered into the
council with doubts and misgivings. Had he lived in a later age, under
his own system modified by the knowledge which has been a consequence of
the art of printing, it is probable that the Signor Soranzo would have
been a noble in opposition, now supporting with ardor some measure of
public benevolence, and now yielding gracefully to the suggestions of a
sterner policy, and always influenced by the positive advantages he was
born to possess, though scarcely conscious himself he was not all he
professed to be. The fault, however, was not so much that of the
patrician as that of circumstances, which, by placing interest in
opposition to duty, lures many a benevolent mind into still greater
weaknesses.
The companions of the Signor Soranzo, however, had a more difficult
task to prepare him for the duties of the statesman, which were so very
different from those he was accustomed to perform as a man, than they
had anticipated. They were like two trained elephants of the east,
possessing themselves all the finer instincts and generous qualities of
the noble animal, but disciplined by a force quite foreign to their
natural condition into creatures of mere convention, placed one on each
side of a younger brother, fresh from the plains, and whom it was their
duty to teach new services for the trunk, new affections, and haply the
manner in which to carry with dignity the howdah of a Rajah.
With many allusions to their policy, 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
nigh. They then separated as privately as they had come together, in
order that no vulgar eye might penetrate the mystery of their official
character.
The most practised of the three appeared in an assembly of the
patricians, which noble and beautiful dames graced with their presence,
from which he disappeared in a manner to leave no clue to his motions.
The other visited the death-bed of a friend, where he discoursed long
and well with a friar, of the immortality of the soul and the hopes of a
Christian: when he departed, the godly man bestowing his blessing, and
the family he left being loud and eloquent in his praise.
The Signor 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 described, still rang in his ears, when his
gondolier landed him beneath the bridge of the Rialto. 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 danger 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 tolerable to the citizen.
Paolo saw swarthy, bare-legged men of the Lagunes, entering occasionally
into the cathedral. He followed, and found himself 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 fisherman, whose dark eye
glittered 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 manner he came by his end. Some
say St. Mark was impatient 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 own question, Signore, you will
spare me some trouble. Why should he, sure enough? They say Jacopo is
revengeful, and that shame and anger at his defeat in the late regatta,
by one old as this, was the reason."
"Is he so jealous of his honor with the oar?"
"Diamine! I have seen the time when Jacopo would sooner die than lose a
race; but that was before he carried a stiletto. Had he kept to his oar
the thing might have happened, but once known for the hired blow, it
seems unreasonable 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!"
"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 laborer 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 entering the palace, without attracting any impertinent
eye to his movements. Here he quickly joined his colleagues of the
fearful tribunal.