The Bravo (22 page)

The deep and imposing silence which instantly succeeded the entrance of
the summoned into the presence of the Council of Three, gave time for a
slight examination of the apartment and of those it contained. The room
was not large for that country and climate, but rather of a size suited
to the closeness of the councils that had place within its walls. The
floor was tessellated with alternate pieces of black and white marble;
the walls were draped in one common and sombre dress of black cloth; a
single lamp of dark bronze was suspended over a solitary table in its
centre, which, like every other article of the scanty furniture, had
the same melancholy covering as the walls. In the angles of the room
there were projecting closets, which might have been what they seemed,
or merely passages into the other apartments of the palace. All the
doors were concealed from casual observation by the hangings, which gave
one general and chilling aspect of gloom to the whole scene. On the side
of the room opposite to that on which Antonio stood, three men were
seated in curule chairs; but their masks, and the drapery which
concealed their forms, prevented all recognition of their persons. One
of this powerful body wore a robe of crimson, as the representative that
fortune had given to the select council of the Doge, and the others
robes of black, being those which had drawn the lucky, or rather the
unlucky balls, in the Council of Ten, itself a temporary and
chance-created body of the senate. There were one or two subordinates
near the table, but these, as well as the still more humble officials of
the place, were hidden from all ordinary knowledge, by disguises similar
to those of the chiefs. Jacopo regarded the scene like one accustomed to
its effect, though with evident reverence and awe; but the impression on
Antonio was too manifest to be lost. It is probable that the long pause
which followed his introduction was intended to produce, and to note
this effect, for keen eyes were intently watching his countenance during
its continuance.

"Thou art called Antonio of the Lagunes?" demanded one of the
secretaries near the table, when a sign had been secretly made from the
crimson member of that fearful tribunal to proceed.

"A poor fisherman, eccellenza, who owes much to blessed Saint Antonio of
the Miraculous Draught."

"And thou hast a son who bears thine own name, and who follows the same
pursuit?"

"It is the duty of a Christian to submit to the will of God! My boy has
been dead twelve years, come the day when the Republic's galleys chased
the infidel from Corfu to Candia. He was slain, noble Signore, with
many others of his calling, in that bloody fight."

There was a movement of surprise among the clerks, who whispered
together, and appeared to examine the papers in their hands with some
haste and confusion. Glances were sent back at the judges, who sate
motionless, wrapped in the impenetrable mystery of their functions. A
secret sign, however, soon caused the armed attendants of the place to
lead Antonio and his companion from the room.

"Here is some inadvertency!" said a stern voice, from one of the masked
Three, so soon as the fall of the footsteps of those who retired was no
longer audible. "It is not seemly that the inquisition of St. Mark
should show this ignorance."

"It touches merely the family of an obscure fisherman, illustrious
Signore," returned the trembling dependant; "and it may be that his art
would wish to deceive us in the opening interrogatories."

"Thou art in error," interrupted another of the Three. "The man is named
Antonio Vecchio, and, as he sayeth, his only child died in the hot
affair with the Ottoman. He of whom there is question is a grandson, and
still a boy."

"The noble Signore is right!" returned the clerk—"In the hurry of
affairs, we have misconceived a fact, which the wisdom of the council
has been quick to rectify. St. Mark is happy in having among his
proudest and oldest names, senators who enter thus familiarly into the
interests of his meanest children!"

"Let the man be again introduced," resumed the judge, slightly bending
his head to the compliment. "These accidents are unavoidable in the
press of affairs."

The necessary order was given, and Antonio, with his companion
constantly at his elbow, was brought once more into the presence.

"Thy son died in the service of the Republic, Antonio?" demanded the
secretary.

"Signore, he did. Holy Maria have pity on his early fate, and listen to
my prayers! So good a child and so brave a man can have no great need of
masses for his soul, or his death would have been doubly grievous to me,
since I am too poor to buy them."

"Thou hast a grandson?"

"I had one, noble senator; I hope he still lives."

"He is not with thee in thy labors on the Lagunes?"

"San Teodoro grant that he were! he is taken, Signore, with many more of
tender years, into the galleys, whence may our Lady give him a save
deliverance! If your eccellenza has an opportunity to speak with the
general of the galleys, or with any other who may have authority in such
a matter, on my knees I pray you to speak in behalf of the child, who is
a good and pious lad, that seldom casts a line into the water without an
ave or a prayer to St. Anthony, and who has never given me uneasiness,
until he fell into the grip of St. Mark."

"Rise—this is not the affair in which I have to question thee. Thou
hast this day spoken of thy prayer to our most illustrious prince, the
Doge?"

"I have prayed his highness to give the boy liberty."

"And this thou hast done openly, and with little deference to the high
dignity and sacred character of the chief of the Republic?"

"I did it like a father and a man. If but half what they say of the
justice and kindness of the state were true, his highness would have
heard me as a father and a man."

A slight movement among the fearful Three caused the secretary to pause;
when he saw, however, that his superiors chose to maintain their
silence, he continued—

"This didst thou once in public and among the senators, but when
repulsed, as urging a petition both out of place and out of reason, thou
soughtest other to prefer thy request?"

"True, illustrious Signore."

"Thou camest among the gondoliers of the regatta in an unseemly garb,
and placed thyself foremost with those who contended for the favor of
the senate and its prince?"

"I came in the garb which I wear before the Virgin and St. Antonio, and
if I was foremost in the race, it was more owing to the goodness and
favor of the man at my side, than any virtue which is still left in
these withered sinews and dried bones. San Marco remember him in his
need, for the kind wish, and soften the hearts of the great to hear the
prayer of a childless parent!"

There was another slight expression of surprise or curiosity among the
inquisitors, and once more the secretary suspended his examination.

"Thou hearest, Jacopo," said one of the Three. "What answer dost thou
make the fisherman?"

"Signore, he speaketh truth."

"And thou hast dared to trifle with the pleasures of the city, and to
set at naught the wishes of the Doge!"

"If it be a crime, illustrious senator, to have pitied an old man who
mourned for his offspring, and to have given up my own solitary triumph
to his love for the boy, I am guilty."

There was along and silent pause after his reply. Jacopo had spoken with
habitual reverence, but with the grave composure that appeared to enter
deeply into the composition of his character. The paleness of the cheek
was the same, and the glowing eye which so singularly lighted and
animated a countenance that possessed a hue not unlike that of death,
scarce varied its gaze while he answered. A secret sign caused the
secretary to proceed with his duty.

"And thou owest thy success in the regatta, Antonio, to the favor of thy
competitor—he who is now with thee in the presence of the council?"

"Under San Teodoro and St. Antonio, the city's patron and my own."

"And thy whole desire was to urge again thy rejected petition in behalf
of the young sailor?"

"Signore, I had no other. What is the vanity of a triumph among the
gondoliers, or the bauble of a mimic oar and chain, to one of my years
and condition?"

"Thou forgettest that the oar and chain are gold?"

"Excellent gentlemen, gold cannot heal the wounds which misery has left
on a heavy heart. Give me back the child, that my eyes may not be closed
by strangers, and that I may speak good counsel into his young ears,
while there is hope my words may be remembered, and I care not for all
the metals of the Rialto! Thou mayest see that I utter no vain vaunt, by
this jewel, which I offer to the nobles with the reverence due to their
greatness and wisdom."

When the fisherman had done speaking, he advanced with the timid step of
a man unaccustomed to move in superior presences, and laid upon the dark
cloth of the table a ring that sparkled with what at least seemed to be
very precious stones. The astonished secretary raised the jewel, and
held it in suspense before the eyes of the judges.

"How is this?" exclaimed he of the Three, who had oftenest interfered in
the examination; "that seemeth the pledge of our nuptials!"

"It is no other, illustrious senator: with this ring did the Doge wed
the Adriatic, in the presence of the ambassadors and the people."

"Hadst thou aught to do with this, also, Jacopo?" sternly demanded the
judge.

The Bravo turned his eye on the jewel with a look of interest, but his
voice maintained its usual depth and steadiness as he answered—

"Signore, no—until now, I knew not the fortune of the fisherman."

A sign to the secretary caused him to resume his questions.

"Thou must account and clearly account, Antonio," he said, "for the
manner in which the sacred ring came into thy possession; hadst thou any
one to aid thee in obtaining it?"

"Signore, I had."

"Name him at once, that we take measures for his security."

"'Twill be useless, Signore; he is far above the power of Venice."

"What meanest thou, fellow? None are superior to the right and the force
of the Republic that dwell within her limits. Answer without evasion, as
thou valuest thy person."

"I should prize that which is of little value, Signore, and be guilty of
a great folly as well as of a great sin, were I to deceive you to save a
body old and worthless as mine from stripes. If your excellencies are
willing to hear, you will find that I am no less willing to tell the
manner in which I got the ring."

"Speak, then, and trifle not."

"I know not, Signori, whether you are used to hearing untruths, that you
caution me so much not to deal with them; but we of the Lagunes are not
afraid to say what we have seen and done, for most of our business is
with the winds and waves, which take their orders from God himself.
There is a tradition, Signori, among us fishermen, that in times past,
one of our body brought up from the bay the ring with which the Doge is
accustomed to marry the Adriatic. A jewel of that value was of little
use to one who casts his nets daily for bread and oil, and he brought it
to the Doge, as became a fisherman into whose hands the saints had
thrown a prize to which he had no title, as it were to prove his
honesty. This act of our companion is much spoken of on the Lagunes and
at the Lido, and it is said there is a noble painting done by some of
our Venetian masters, in the halls of the palace, which tells the story
as it happened, showing the prince on his throne, and the lucky
fisherman with his naked legs rendering back to his highness that which
had been lost. I hope there is foundation for this belief, Signore,
which greatly flatters our pride, and is not without use in keeping some
among us truer to the right, and better favored in the eyes of St.
Anthony than might otherwise be."

"The fact was so."

"And the painting, excellent Signore? I hope our vanity has not deceived
us concerning the picture, neither?"

"The picture you mention is to be seen within the palace."

"Corpo di Bacco! I have had my misgivings on that point, for it is not
common that the rich and happy should take such note of what the humble
and the poor have done. Is the work from the hands of the great Tiziana
himself, eccellenza?"

"It is not; one of little name hath put his pencil to the canvas."

"They say that Tiziano had the art of giving to his work the look and
richness of flesh, and one would think that a just man might find, in
the honesty of the poor fisherman, a color bright enough to have
satisfied even his eye. But it may be that the senate saw danger in thus
flattering us of the Lagunes."

"Proceed with the account of thine own fortune with the ring."

"Illustrious nobles, I have often dreamed of the luck of my fellow of
the old times; and more than once have I drawn the nets with an eager
hand in my sleep, thinking to find that very jewel entangled in its
meshes, or embowelled by some fish. What I have so often fancied has at
last happened. I am an old man, Signore, and there are few pools or
banks between Fusina and Giorgio, that my lines of my nets have not
fathomed or covered. The spot to which the Bucentoro is wont to steer in
these ceremonies is well known to me, and I had a care to cover the
bottom round about with all my nets in the hope of drawing up the ring.
When his highness cast the jewel, I dropped a buoy to mark the
spot—Signore, this is all—my accomplice was St. Anthony."

"For doing this you had a motive?"

"Holy Mother of God! Was it not sufficient to get back my boy from the
gripe of the galleys?" exclaimed Antonio, with an energy and a
simplicity that are often found to be in the same character. "I thought
that if the Doge and the senate were willing to cause pictures to be
painted, and honors to be given to one poor fisherman for the ring, they
might be glad to reward another, by releasing a lad who can be of no
great service to the Republic, but who is all to his parent."