IV

Now that the brilliant pageant of the Betrothal had taken place, life

went on serenely in the Palazzo Cornaro in San Cassan, while the seasons

came and went and Caterina developed into a charming maiden of

seventeen--expanding in the gracious atmosphere and the wonderful new

joys that it brought her, as a rose matures to its most radiant

perfection in the sunshine. Her eager mind which had hitherto known only

the meagre culture bestowed upon young Venetian maids of her time and

estate, awoke with ardent response, growing with leaps and bounds to

meet the new demands--yet always deepening because the spring of her

will had its impulse in noble emotions.

Her thin, restricted life had suddenly overflowed with interests: the

boundaries of her vision had opened far beyond the narrow confines of

the lagoons of Venice and the Euganean hills, as the consciousness

dawned upon her of a world that had been rich in beauty and vital

memories before Venice began to be. Life was beginning to pulsate

tumultuously in her veins; her heart was awaking. All the fulness and

delight of this germinal spring-time she owed to the lord and lover who

was waiting for her across the shimmering, beckoning sea. What wonder

that her maiden heart should cling to him with a passionate trust, while

all her sweet self grew in shy loveliness out of the dream that she was

fashioning, and the deepening currents of her being flowed purely about

this vision of her betrothed, enthroning her love with her religion in

one centre.

The mimic court in the Palazzo Cornaro, under the supervision of her

monitors of Venice, was already attracting distinguished strangers--for

the element of romance in her position made the salon of the future

Queen of Cyprus the feature of Venetian social life; and long hours of

eager study with masters of the many tongues spoken in the Cyprian

court--alternating with the teachings of her mother's noble friend, the

Patriarch, as he sought to familiarize her with the early Christian

story of her distant island, proved the quick grasp of her mind--giving

dangerous hints of strength which, if disregarded, might thwart the

moulding purpose of the Signoria. So it seemed wise to forestall her

questionings with such historic glimpses as should fascinate her with

her realm to be, while Venice was silently smoothing out the crumples of

that distant Cyprian shore; and it was fitting that the bride of Janus

should make acquaintance with the literary and legendary treasures of

this fabled isle of poets, for the house of Lusignan had been known for

its taste in literature. But of a certain proverb current in Cyprus in

the days of the Lusignans, the watchful Senate took care that she should

be left in ignorance, _Ce n'est pas Minerve qui est nee en Chypre_! and

that Chief of the Ten whose difficult duty it had become to supervise

the education of Caterina was giving peremptory instruction to the

newly-created Historical Secretary to the Queen-elect:

"Begin with thy narration far back in the days of the Greek myths--she

hath much poetry in her soul. Take her carefully over the early

Christian traditions--she doth most seriously incline to venerate the

Church:--there is food in these matters to consume much time."

"And then, Eccellentissimo, one may venture to tell the story of the

House of Lusignan?"

The research of the learned Secretary had brought him in contact with

Cyprus, but it had not inclined him to make fancy pictures of its kings.

"Of Guy--the founder--and of the Crusades; it is a tale a maid may

hear," the Capo responded grimly. "Of gleanings, now and again, through

the pages of the chronicle, as it may be wise. She hath not the judgment

to endure it all, being yet scarce more than a child--and with leanings

rather toward Church than State, being over-much under the influence of

the Lady Fiorenza--_over-much_."

The words came with pauses which lent them force, and the new Secretary,

being Senate-trained, lost none of their significance.

"Thine office doth demand discretion," the Chief continued, fixing the

other with his piercing gaze. "One should choose the tale that may best

please--that she may go glad-hearted and with a maiden's fancy."

"Aye, your Excellency--for maids and women are not as men; and facts not

over-gentle may be best untold."

"Nay--not that--not that: but there is time--much time--and for the

present the care shall be to delight."

"It is the office of a courtier, Eccellentissimo; it befools a scholar,"

the Historical Secretary exclaimed with indignation. "There be poets and

romancers who would do it honor, rather than I--who have spent long

years among the records searching for truth, that I may leave a

chronicle to trust."

"And most unworthily, Signor Segretario, if thou hast found no least

trace of the great philosopher Zeno in the ancient city of Cition that

was his birthplace; nor of Homer, that maker of literature, who hath,

perchance, won space enough in the estimate of mankind to be worthy the

brief thought of a child--even of thine--a scholar seeking for truth--he

being the pride of Salamis.

"But the Signoria have never learned the backward step that they should

withdraw an appointment which conferreth unwilling honor," the Chief

concluded coldly. "Thou shalt find some beauty in the legends of the

Cinyradae, or the myths of Aphrodite, in this land of Cyprus where the

goddess rose from the foam of the sea!"

"Were not substance better than froth to train a maid to rule, your

Excellency?"

"Nay, but to _obey_; to _rule_ needeth not teaching."

"But--your Excellency----"

"Signore, foam shall suffice to teach obedience--thou hast heard the

most gracious will of the Senate."

The eyes of the scholar who loved truth better than fortune dropped

baffled; for he could not afford to surrender the favor of the Senate

which promised him means to achieve in his own special field; and he

groaned in spirit while the wide halls of the Frari, with their

treasure of ancient MSS. rose before his mental vision as the most

tempting spot on earth, with his own _magnum opus_ lying there

unfinished, yet far toward completion. And for one who had meant to

chronicle the complete history of a _movement_, who had sought ever to

weigh and sift in the interests of truth alone, to surrender the freedom

of his mind to the Senate--to come down to the teaching of a child--to

be commanded what he should speak--it was maddening!

"My own work," he murmured in a last appeal:--"I have so little time."

"The time of a Venetian is his best gift to the State," the Capo made

answer icily.

There was a pause during which the unwilling Secretary _felt_ the eyes

of the Capo upon him, forcing him to lift his own. For an instant he met

the strange fixed gaze which conveyed to him without words that what had

passed between them was to be held inviolate; then, with a courteous

salute, the man of power spoke:

"The interview is dismissed." And the Segretario Reale went out from the

presence, his soul revolting at the absolutism that forced him to

accept; and he despised himself.

* * * * *

Meanwhile the soul of the maiden was thrilling to the Patriarch's tales

of early Christian conquests in her islands--at Paphos--at Salamis--of

the miracles of the great Paulus, saint and bishop and leader--as her

eyes followed along the red-lettered parchment page of the rare volume

which the holy man had brought from the treasures of the "Marciana" for

her teaching--translating the story from the Greek, which was yet hard

for her, into her own softer tongue.

Cyprus had indeed been a favored land in those early days; for the Holy

Spirit had commanded by a revelation that Barnabas and Paulus should set

sail for Cyprus to preach the new faith at Salamis; and they had taken

with them Marcus--their own San Marco!--it was so written in this

strange, old book.

"Tell me about him!" Caterina cried, clasping her hands eagerly: "what

did he do in my land?"

Every Venetian was familiar with the Patron-Saint of Venice in his

symbolic guise, with his terrible, flashing jewelled eyes--as a power

who would guard them and confound their enemies, rather than as an

Evangelist--although the paw of the fierce Venetian lion rested always

on the open gospel-page. But to hear of him as a man, before he was

known as saint--young--'sister's son to Barnabas,' setting forth on this

mission to Cyprus, made him strangely real to the young Venetian girl;

it even brought Cyprus nearer with a tender home claim, to hear of the

wanderings of San Marco among those temples of Aphrodite; and his scorn

of the unholy worship kindled her soul as the Patriarch told how the

young Evangelist had not feared to curse the godless Cyprian city for

its idolatry--of the tumult that had been raised by his followers, as

they hurled the images of the Pagan gods from their pedestals, ruining

portions of the huge, unholy structure as they fell and killing some of

those who were taking part in the games. She would visit these vast

ruins in the ancient grove of Aphrodite, where giant-trees had grown

among the fallen columns, and wonderful vases of gold and silver and

alabaster, wrought like finest cameos, had been disinterred from mounds

of rubbish to decorate the palaces of patricians.

Of these, antique goblets, some flashing with an indescribable rainbow

lustre, delicate as an opal, had already been sent her among the rich

gifts of Janus. And so life took on new color for her--historic memories

and trifles of the day crossing each other at many points, linking the

old to the new, in unsuspected continuity.

"Our San Marco was a hero even then!" she cried; "an early Crusader

fighting for his faith!"

"Aye, daughter--as thou and I must fight," the Patriarch answered her

with tender approval in his eyes, a shadow of apprehension dimming them

before he withdrew his gaze--for of such tender stuff had martyrs been

made. "The story of those early days is for our guidance. If trials

should come," he added, "cleave but to thy faith and Heaven shall show

thee a way."

"I never thought before that one might _love_ San Marco!" Caterina said,

as she turned her glowing face frankly to the old man; "he was never a

person, but just a grotesque image to me."

"Symbols are for our race in its childhood, for with primitive peoples

imagination dominates reason," he answered her; "later we weave a more

enduring fabric out of the truth of history--still cherishing the

myth--the earlier impulse."

But it was Barnabas who was the true hero-saint of Cyprus; for he had

owned estates in his native island and had sold them and given all for

the propagation of the new faith; and when, after his cruel martyrdom

the fierce spirit of persecution had cooled, and his remains were found

interred in a grotto near the city--the divine revelation of St. Peter

clasped to his breast--the possession of so sacred a relic sufficed to

win great privileges among the hierarchy for the island of Cyprus, in

perpetuity--the proud title of Archbishop of Salamis--the imperial staff

with the golden apple at top--the cap with the red cross, and many other

honors and immunities. It was a long way from the primitive simplicity

of the fruitful ministration of Jose Barnabas, the Son of Consolation,

as he had fought for souls in the splendid vigor of his youth and

consecration!

"I am glad of these sacred bonds between my two homes!" the young girl

exclaimed with a little wistful sigh.

"There are yet other links in the history of our Church; for Sant'Elena,

the Mother of Constantine--whose tomb thou knowest on our fair island of

Sant'Elena--hath enriched thy favored land of Cyprus with its most

sacred relic, bestowing there the portions of the Holy Cross which she

had brought from Orient, and thou shalt find them still revered in the

Chapel of Santa Croce on the Mountain of the Troodos."

"Thou perchance, most Reverend Father, wilt come some day in pilgrimage

to this blessed shrine in my new land!" Caterina cried hopefully.

"Nay, dear daughter; for my work lieth in Venice. But thou seest that

where our Holy Church hath planted her banner, one may call no land

strange."

It was partly with this thought that the Patriarch had striven to

interest Caterina in these incidents of early Christianity; and partly

from his undefined dread as to what the future might hold for her, with

the wish to keep the Church and its teachings uppermost in her mind,

that she might lean upon them in need. She had been deeply interested

and again and again had turned the talk upon this theme--a docile pupil,

growing in grace and strength from the teachings he gathered for her

from that quaint old volume so little known by the women of her time. It

was his gift to fit her for the unknown life to which she was going, and

it gave him an opportunity for many helpful words which if scarcely

understood at the time came back to her later; yet he darkened her

bright visions with no fears, thinking that hope and joy and faith would

suffice for strength in trial.

The Senate, meanwhile, had matter less placid touching Cyprus and the

betrothed bride wherewith to fill this period of waiting: and more than

once the Senator Marco Cornaro had returned from lengthy sessions at the

Ducal Palace in no gentle humor, yet mute to all questioning. For it had

been learned in that innermost Council, and told no farther than was

needful, that Ferdinand of Naples was intriguing to draw Janus into an

alliance with a princess of his house; it was also known, by that

singular penetration in which Venice had no equal, that the new

Archbishop of Nicosia, Alvise Fabrici, was an agent for Ferdinand,

secretly working to further his ends in Cyprus; and finally in sign of

the willingness of Janus to break faith with Venice, came the rumor of

some coldness toward Andrea Cornaro, who had hitherto been his fast

friend.

It was enough to bring gloom to the brow of the Senator Marco Cornaro,

whose heart was set upon this royal marriage.

But nothing of this transpired beyond the walls of the Council Chamber,

from whence at last, to make an end of the pitiful waverings of this

fickle King, an ambassador was sent to the court of Cyprus to state in

terms that could not be misunderstood, that if Janus were to disgrace

his royal word, solemnly pledged by his Ambassador Mastachelli in

presence of the Serenissimo and the Signoria, the insult to a Queen

already betrothed to him would be a slight the Republic would not

suffer, and that Venice would become the enemy instead of the ally of

Cyprus.

But no misgivings troubled the heart of the betrothed in the Palazzo

Cornaro, where she waited in happy confidence, being taught through the

ceaseless vigilance of the Senate, that in royal marriages haste was

ever unseemly, and full time would be allowed for the fashioning of the

wedding trousseau, the weaving of wedding damasks and the complete

preparation of a household outfit consistent with the dignity of a

queen.

The prospect of further enemies was not an enviable one for Janus, who

already counted Genoa, Savoy and Portugal and his Holiness of Rome among

them; for he had won the wrath of the Genoese by recapturing their

important holding of Famagosta in the very heart of his own island, as

he had most heartily gained the disfavor of his Holiness by his alliance

with the infidel Sultan of Egypt; and through his sister Carlotta, the

enmity of Savoy and of Portugal was assured to him.

So the galleys and favor of Venice were not to be disregarded, and it

was not long before the Cyprian fleet appeared in the waters of the

Adriatic, bearing in response to the secret embassy of Venice, the

Ambassador sent by Janus to bring his young Queen to Cyprus.

V

Ser Gobbo Di Rialto bore on his broad breast announcements of intense

interest concerning the ceremonies which would make the day of the

departure of the Daughter of the Republic among the most splendid in the

annals of Venice. A crowd of citizens who had not been advised by

special invitation of the various banquetings and happenings, came and

went about the grotesque figure with much lively comment of delighted

anticipation, intermingled with benedictions upon San Marco that it was

not long to wait, since to-morrow would be there after the next Ave

Maria! For whatever of revelry was prepared for the nobles, brought

always in Venice a corresponding pageant to delight the eyes of the

people.

Here and there some gondolier from the islands, sheepishly conscious of

the brilliant _fazzoletto_, or the string of beads he had just bought in

the tempting booths of the old, wooden Rialto, hung on the outskirts of

the crowd before Ser Gobbo, to catch from the gossip of the more

lettered ones about him the details of the morrow's _festa_ which he

might not read for himself; for the knowledge would make him the oracle

of his little circle in Burano--or at least with Giovanna, when he

should bestow his silken trifle for the morrow's splendor. For, of

course all Venice would be there to see the queen set forth.

"Santa Maria!--the Serenissimo himself upon the Bucentoro will escort

the Regina. Heard one ever such splendor!"

"And at the Lido--hast heard, Tonio?--by favor of San Marco and San

Nicolo, the gondolieri with their barchette may float in line to make

our part of the _festa_. Oh, the beautiful day!"

"And the Signoria, and all the nobili! and the court of the young

Regina--and all the banners and the _barca_--most beautiful to

behold--one might die of the splendor of it, Santissima Maria!"

"Aye, Giuseppe, and the music of all the fleets!--it will be like

heaven, if Messer San Marco doth but send the sunshine and the breeze."

"Nay, he could not fail his Venice for a _festa_ that doth him such

honor; _Messer San Marco e galant uomo!_ But how then, Tonio, thou hast

a _sposalizio_ of thine own--with thy string of coral and thy

_fazzoletto_ fit for a Signorina: the bells will be chiming for thee

to-morrow?"

"_Basta, basta!_" Tonio responded with commendable gruffness,

considering his contentment at heart, as he hastily retreated to his

gondola under the Rialto for needed shelter from the banter which

followed him, until some other unwary victim became the centre of the

well-meant pleasantry.

"Wait then for a day, Tonio mio, and the Bucentoro will be ready for

thee," cries one of the more daring as he vanishes; "hast thou already

bespoken thy groomsman? I also am a Castellan."

Across the Piazza San Giacomo, under the famous colonnade of San Giacomo

di Rialto, the talk turned chiefly on the great event which was to

culminate on the morrow, and which for three years had consumed much

time in Senate and State, as the patricians strolled to and fro in

lively discussion.

It was here that for generations everything that affected the commerce

of Venice was held up in the light of expression as free and candid as

it was possible for opinion to be in this highly organized oligarchy;

and here as elsewhere, Venice, like a faithful mother, watched over the

welfare of her sons, though they were grown to man's estate; and since

her commerce was, in fact, the mainspring of her wealth and prestige--a

very vital part of her--she kept before their eyes on the exterior of

this ancient church in the market-place where her merchant-princes daily

met, her admonition to uphold them in righteous dealing. One might

decipher it wrought into the wall of the apse under the stones of the

frieze, in quaint lettering that tempted to the perusal and endowed the

mastered motto with the impressiveness of a rite--for the legend assumed

a quality of mystery, being much defaced from time.

"_Hoc circa templum sit jus mercatoribus aequm, pondera ne vergant nec

sit conventio prava._"

(Around the Temple let the merchant's law be just, his weights true, and

his covenant faithful.)

Among the frescoes on the walls under the colonnade was the famous

_mappa mondo_, upon which were indicated the various routes of Venetian

commerce throughout the world.

Two dignified elderly men wearing the black silk robe of the merchant

with chains of heavy gold links were strolling to and fro in eager

conversation--their comrades showing signs of deference as they passed.

"Cyprus will seem nearer now," said one of them, pausing for a moment

before the map to point out a speck in the Mediterranean with his

gold-topped staff.

"A century nearer than it was in the days of Comnenus," the other

answered him, with a recollection of the attempted purchase and

occupancy of the island in those earlier times. "But now--praise be to

San Marco, the time is ripe."

"And Venice hath never ceased to covet that 'Island of Delights!' But

now her fleets may lie at anchor in the splendid port of Famagosta while

she taketh her leisure in dealing with the merchants of the East; for

the King of Cyprus must aye keep faith with the Republic."

"Yet let Venice beware," the other answered, lowering his voice to a

confidential tone. "It is not over-easy to hold His Majesty to any faith

or compact, by what one may guess from the talk of the Senate: but the

favor of Venice is needful to him."

"And none the less that there be those who favor him not. Genoa is wroth

at him for having chased them from Famagosta--the most marvellous

stronghold in the world, if one may credit Messer Andrea Cornaro, the

friend of the King."

"He spake truly, from what I myself should have guessed thereof--getting

no closer to the Fortress than any Cyprian might have done six years

ago, when I had gone with my fleet to the Syrian Coast for a marvellous

cargo of spices, and Cyprus tempted me to a voyage of pleasure, being

not so far--the sail of a day with a fair galley. The Genoese held the

great Fortress and the splendid city of Famagosta and the country for

miles around; an enemy entrenched in the very heart of a kingdom! Small

wonder that King Janus, being of a most laudable prowess, should claim

his own again--which won him laurels, for the Cyprians had been sore

over the matter. Aye; Cyprus is good for the commerce of Venice, and it

would be a hard day when the ships of the Republic might not harbor in

her waters. And if the good of Venice be the good of Cyprus,--the amity

is the more like to last!"

"Aye, for the commerce it is well--most truly well. But there will be

too many of our patrician daughters in the suite of the young queen when

she shall sail on the morrow. I could more easily have spared fewer."

"They are but charming childish faces; and they have left their sisters

behind them--they and the little Caterina; it is well that the bride

should make a brave showing at the court of Cyprus--which is held for a

marvel of splendor."

"Thou knowest it, Messer Querini, having been there?"

"Nay--not at court--it is Messer Andrea Cornaro who will tell of it. But

I passed some days at Nikosia, on my way back from Alexandria, and

verily the cities were twins for richness. The beauty of the

churches--one for each day of the year through,--we of Venice may not at

all equal, save in our Basilica of San Marco;--the precious altars

inlaid with gold and jewels,--like our Pala d'Oro that cometh not forth

of our treasury save on days of _festa_; finest statues of ivory and

silver; great carven columns wrought like our columns of Acre--but

vaster and of that same fineness of workmanship: and such broideries of

golden thread and great pearls for draperies and altar-cloths, as one

may scarce dream of! And in their market-places, strewn with the spoils

of the East are faces and voices of every clime and a very babel of

tongues; more--far more than on our own Rialto; with schools for every

language. And I saw a thing in Nikosia that in all my journeyings I have

not met with before."

"Thy tales are more piquant than the tales of Marco Polo," his friend

said rallying him.

"All is marvellous of which thou hast not hitherto known, though it be

simpler than thou art wont to behold. So I found strange and noble, a

great building already a century and a half old, in the heart of this

sumptuous city, whereon it was signified by a writing cut into the

stone, that all men of every clime who but confess the name of Christus,

being ill or needy, should receive therein, freely given, rest and

entertainment."

"If the entertainment were of the wines of Cyprus it would be verily a

gift: for these one may even taste who hath not been in her great

cities."

"Truth is truth." the other assented. "And that wine of the

Commanderie"--the dignified speaker interrupted himself with slow

unmistakable signs of approval--"I will make it known to thee to-morrow

at the banquet. And her ortolans!--It is a rich land: the Senate hath

done well."

"How sayest thou, 'the Senate hath done well?' Is it not that we are

losing too many of our own patricians, rather than coming into favor of

Cyprus?"

"How 'losing them'--to win relations that be wise for Venice? Andrea

Cornaro hath never been one to keep himself at rest in his palace at San

Cassiano, and through his wandering hath come this royal alliance for

Venice; and to-morrow he goeth again to Cyprus as auditor to the young

queen, his niece. The Contarini, the Giustiniani--as thou knowest

well--have already vast holdings on those Mediterranean shores."

"What sayest thou of the Senator Aluisi Bernardini--that _he_ is no loss

to Venice?"

"Nay, nay: he is one that Venice may not too well spare: a man after her

best traditions--one for an embassy or any place of power--a man to do

us honor--overgrave and quiet, perchance, for his youth, yet of a

courtesy and judgment!--and never leaving the thing undone! It is his

father again."

"Might not some other man, less finely tempered, have served in Cyprus?"

"Aye--if the Bernardini himself were not so finely-tempered! I was in

the Senate the day they put the choice before him--it was no secret, and

it proved the man. To do him honor the Senate gave him choice--and the

Senate doth more easily command. And this they laid before him. An

Embassy to France, of which he should be chief--his father held it

before him, and the Lady of the Bernardini hath been eager that her son

should bear his father's honors: that, measured with this mission to

Cyprus--to attend the charming little cousin, as private Chamberlain to

the Queen, forsooth,--a man twice her years and already of an

acknowledged dignity!"

"It seemeth not easy to translate his choice. What sayeth the proud Lady

of the Bernardini? For it is less honor."

"One knoweth not; she being of Casa Cornaro, of the elder branch, and,

like her son, of few words and great discretion. But she had lately

spoken with me of this embassy to France, wishing that her son might

hold it, thinking him well fitted for the place. Ah, well--she giveth no

sign; and to-morrow she also setteth sail for Cyprus,--being created

chief lady in waiting to her fair, young cousin."

"The Lady of the Bernardini in the court of the Caterina! Impossible!

She, in whose salons one might not think one's own thoughts!"

"By San Tadoro! one might think them, at one's ease, so only they were

of a quality to please her."

"And the Lady of the Bernardini to leave her splendid palace! Venice

without the Lady of the Bernardini!"

"Where hast thou been that thou knowest it not? It is even so!"

"Thou dost verily flatter the vanity of a man, Querini, to forget that I

am but two days returned with my cargoes from Flanders."

"Nay--thy pardon, friend. I mind it well enough and shall mind it better

when thou hast a chance to make us envious of the wares thou wilt

unburden from thy cumbrous, carven chests, for there is much talk of

their richness. But the ear of Venice is so attuned to these

wedding-chimes that it hath no chance to vibrate to another theme until

the rejoicings of the morrow be past."

"And the great estates of the Bernardini? I remember some rumor in the

Broglio, before this matter of Cyprus came uppermost, that the houses

would have been allied--a marriage between the little Caterina and the

cousin Aluisi--a dispensation to be gotten from His Holiness. It would

have been well for the estates and the Casa Cornaro."

"Aye, it would have been well for the Casa Cornaro: better perchance

than this dazzling foreign marriage, and more fortune in it for the

Cornari. For the estates of the Bernardini are princely; and it is well

known in the Senate, though it be uttered in decorous whispers, that the

dower of the charming bride hath left small remainder to her noble

uncle. And Messer Andrea also, is large lender to a king--for war-debts

and the like--Janus having nothing until he had regained his kingdom.

But as well buy a King as a vast estate for one's toy, if one hath the

_zecchini_."

"Thou art verily more a merchant than I had esteemed thee, Messer

Querini, if thou hast no thought in this marriage but for the

_zecchini_--as well those of her uncle Andrea for the maid Caterina, as

those of the Bernardini."

The Signor Querini gave a long, contemptuous sniffle.

"May gold buy a man like our young Senator Bernardini! Nay:--but it is

the fuss and manner of this marriage that turneth me somewhat against

it: and because the father of the Bernardini was in truth my friend.

But Caterina was still a child when a king appeared as suitor, and the

question of the Bernardini was never made; and Marco Cornaro--Marco is a

delighted _magnifico_. _Ebbene_--San Marco might see many of us wise,

old fools choosing a king for a son-in-law, if one came our way to beg

the favor. And Messer Andrea hath it that King Janus is full winsome.

One should not be hard upon Marco Cornaro--it is not the first alliance

that his noble house hath made with royalty. May happy fortune befall

the maid--who is verily charming and of a consummate dignity."

"The King hath sent an embassy, that doeth honor to any royal house, to

bring his bride to Cyprus. His Excellency the Ambassador, Messer Filippo

Podacatharo, is a princely escort; and yesterday when he gave banquet to

the merchants of Venice, all were in admiration at the sumptuousness of

the fleet of Cyprus."

"I would have been there, but some matters of moment for the Bernardini

held me. It is not easy for him to leave Venice, with his vast holdings.

And his father was my friend. I command his galleys to-morrow, which

follow the Bucentoro to the fleet of Cyprus, outside our harbor--San

Marco favor the day!"