The Bravo (12 page)

"You will do well, Don Camillo, to remind the senators of your presence,
by frequent observance of the courtesies due to their rank and yours."

"This do I never neglect, as seemly both in my station and my object."

"The judges should not be forgotten, young man, for it is wise to
remember that justice hath ever an ear for solicitation."

"None can be more assiduous in the duty, nor is it common to see a
suppliant so mindful of those whom he troubleth, by more substantial
proofs of respect."

"But chiefly should we be particular to earn the senate's esteem. No act
of service to the state is overlooked by that body, and the smallest
good deed finds its way into the recesses of the two councils."

"Would I could have communication with those reverend fathers! I think
the justice of my claim would speedily work out its own right."

"That were impossible!" gravely returned the senator. "Those august
bodies are secret, that their majesty may not be tarnished by
communication with vulgar interests. They rule like the unseen influence
of mind over matter, and form, as it were, the soul of the state, whose
seat, like that of reason, remains a problem exceeding human
penetration."

"I express the desire rather as a wish than with any hope of its being
granted," returned the Duke of St. Agata, resuming his cloak and mask,
neither of which had been entirely laid aside. "Adieu, noble Signore; I
shall not cease to move the Castilian with frequent advice, and, in
return, I commit my affair to the justice of the patricians, and your
own good friendship."

Signor Gradenigo bowed his guest through all the rooms of the long suite
but the last, where he committed him to the care of the groom of his
chambers.

"The youth must be stirred to greater industry in this matter, by
clogging the wheels of the law. He that would ask favors of St. Mark
must first earn them, by showing zealous dispositions in his behalf."

Such were the reflections of the Signor Gradenigo, as he slowly
returned towards his closet, after a ceremonious leave-taking with his
guest, in the outer apartment. Closing the door, he commenced pacing the
small apartment with the step and eye of a man who again mused with some
anxiety. After a minute of profound stillness, a door, concealed by the
hangings of the room, was cautiously opened, and the face of still
another visitor appeared.

"Enter!" said the senator, betraying no surprise at the apparition; "the
hour is past, and I wait for thee."

The flowing dress, the grey and venerable beard, the noble outline of
features, the quick, greedy, and suspicious eye, with an expression of
countenance that was, perhaps, equally marked by worldly sagacity, and
feelings often rudely rebuked, proclaimed a Hebrew of the Rialto.

"Enter, Hosea, and unburden thyself," continued the senator, like one
prepared for some habitual communication. "Is there aught new that
touches the public weal?"

"Blessed is the people over whom there is so fatherly a care! Can there
be good or evil to the citizen of the Republic, noble Signore, without
the bowels of the senate moving, as the parent yearneth over his young?
Happy is the country in which men of reverend years and whitened heads
watch, until night draws towards the day, and weariness is forgotten in
the desire to do good, and to honor the state!"

"Thy mind partaketh of the eastern imagery of the country of thy
fathers, good Hosea, and thou art apt to forget that thou art not yet
watching on the steps of the Temple. What of interest hath the day
brought forth?"

"Say rather the night, Signore, for little worthy of your ear hath
happened, save a matter of some trifling import, which hath grown out of
the movements of the evening."

"Have there been stilettoes busy on the bridge?—ha!—or do the people
joy less than common in their levities?"

"None have died wrongfully, and the square is gay as the fragrant
vineyards of Engedi. Holy Abraham! what a place is Venice for its
pleasures, and how the hearts of old and young revel in their merriment!
It is almost sufficient to fix the font in the synagogue, to witness so
joyous a dispensation in behalf of the people of these islands! I had
not hoped for the honor of an interview to-night, Signore, and I had
prayed, before laying my head upon the pillow, when one charged by the
council brought to me a jewel, with an order to decipher the arms and
other symbols of its owner. 'Tis a ring, with the usual marks which
accompany private confidences."

"Thou hast the signet?" said the noble, stretching out an arm.

"It is here, and a goodly stone it is; a turquoise of price."

"Whence came it—and why is it sent to thee?"

"It came, Signore, as I gather more through hints and intimations of the
messenger than by his words, from a place resembling that which the
righteous Daniel escaped in virtue of his godliness and birth."

"Thou meanest the Lion's Mouth?"

"So say our ancient books, Signore, in reference to the prophet, and so
would the council's agent seem to intimate in reference to the ring?"

"Here is naught but a crest with the equestrian helmet—comes it of any
in Venice?"

"The upright Solomon guided the judgment of his servant in a matter of
this delicacy! The jewel is of rare beauty, such as few possess but
those who have gold in store for other purposes. Do but regard the soft
lustre in this light, noble Signore, and remark the pleasing colors that
rise by the change of view!"

"Ay—'tis well—but who claimeth the bearings?"

"It is wonderful to contemplate how great a value may lie concealed in
so small a compass! I have known sequins of full weight and heavy amount
given for baubles less precious."

"Wilt thou never forget thy stall and the wayfarers of the Rialto? I
bid thee name him who beareth these symbols as marks of his family and
rank."

"Noble Signore, I obey. The crest is of the family of Monforte, the last
senator of which died some fifteen years since."

"And his jewels?"

"They have passed with other movables of which the state taketh no
account, into the keeping of his kinsman and successor—if it be the
senate's pleasure that there shall be a successor to that ancient
name—Don Camillo of St. Agata. The wealthy Neapolitan who now urges his
rights here in Venice, is the present owner of this precious stone."

"Give me the ring; this must be looked to—hast thou more to say?"

"Nothing, Signore—unless to petition, if there is to be any
condemnation and sale of the jewel, that it may first be offered to an
ancient servitor of the Republic, who hath much reason to regret that
his age hath been less prosperous than his youth."

"Thou shalt not be forgotten. I hear it said, Hosea, that divers of our
young nobles frequent thy Hebrew shops with intent to borrow gold,
which, lavished in present prodigality, is to be bitterly repaid at a
later day by self-denial, and such embarrassments as suit not the heirs
of noble names. Take heed of this matter—for if the displeasure of the
council should alight on any of thy race, there would be long and
serious accounts to settle! Hast thou had employment of late with other
signets besides this of the Neapolitan?"

"Unless in the vulgar way of our daily occupation, none of note,
illustrious Signore."

"Regard this," continued the Signor Gradenigo, first searching in a
secret drawer, whence he drew a small bit of paper, to which a morsel of
wax adhered; "canst thou form any conjecture, by the impression,
concerning him who used that seal?"

The jeweller took the paper and held it towards the light, while his
glittering eyes intently examined the conceit.

"This would surpass the wisdom of the son of David!" he said, after a
long and seemingly fruitless examination; "here is naught but some
fanciful device of gallantry, such as the light-hearted cavaliers of the
city are fond of using, when they tempt the weaker sex with fair words
and seductive vanities."

"It is a heart pierced with the dart of love, and the motto of
'pensa
al cuore trafitto d'amore?'
"

"Naught else, as my eyes do their duty. I should think there was but
very little meant by those words, Signore!"

"That as may be. Thou hast never sold a jewel with that conceit?"

"Just Samuel! We dispose of them daily to Christians of both sexes and
all ages. I know no device of greater frequency, whereby I conceive
there is much commerce in this light fidelity."

"He who used it did well in concealing his thoughts beneath so general a
dress! There will be a reward of a hundred sequins to him who traces the
owner."

Hosea was about to return the seal as beyond his knowledge, when this
remark fell casually from the lips of the Signor Gradenigo. In a moment
his eyes were fortified with a glass of microscopic power, and the paper
was again before the lamp.

"I disposed of a cornelian of no great price, which bore this conceit,
to the wife of the emperor's ambassador, but conceiving there was no
more in the purchase than some waywardness of fancy, I took no
precaution to note the stone. A gentleman in the family of the Legate of
Ravenna, also trafficked with me for an amethyst of the same design, but
with him neither did I hold it important to be particular. Ha! here is
a private mark, that in truth seemeth to be of my own hand!"

"Dost thou find a clue? What is the sign of which thou speakest?"

"Naught, noble senator, but a slur in a letter, which would not be apt
to catch the eye of an over-credulous maiden."

"And thou parted with the seal to—?"

Hosea hesitated, for he foresaw some danger of losing his reward by a
too hasty communication of the truth.

"If it be important that the fact be known, Signore," he said, "I will
consult my books. In a matter of this gravity, the senate should not be
misled."

"Thou sayest well. The affair is grave, and the reward a sufficient
pledge that we so esteem it."

"Something was said, illustrious Signore, of a hundred sequins; but my
mind taketh little heed of such particulars when the good of Venice is
in question."

"A hundred is the sum I promised."

"I parted with a signet-ring, bearing some such design, to a female in
the service of the Nuncio's first gentleman. But this seal cannot come
of that, since a woman of her station—"

"Art sure?" eagerly interrupted the Signor Gradenigo.

Hosea looked earnestly at his companion; and reading in his eye and
countenance that the clue was agreeable, he answered promptly,—

"As that I live under the law of Moses! The bauble had been long on hand
without an offer, and I abandoned it to the uses of my money."

"The sequins are thine, excellent Jew! This clears the mystery of every
doubt. Go; thou shalt have thy reward; and if thou hast any particulars
in thy secret register, let me be quickly possessed of them. Go to, good
Hosea, and be punctual as of wont. I tire of these constant exercises
of the spirit."

The Hebrew, exulting in his success, now took his leave, with a manner
in which habitual cupidity and subdued policy completely mastered every
other feeling. He disappeared by the passage through which he had
entered.

It seemed, by the manner of the Signor Gradenigo, that the receptions
for that evening had now ended. He carefully examined the locks of
several secret drawers in his cabinet, extinguished the lights, closed
and secured the doors, and quitted the place. For some time longer,
however, he paced one of the principal rooms of the outer suite, until
the usual hour having arrived, he sought his rest, and the palace was
closed for the night.

The reader will have gained some insight into the character of the
individual who was the chief actor in the foregoing scenes. The Signor
Gradenigo was born with all the sympathies and natural kindliness of
other men, but accident, and an education which had received a strong
bias from the institutions of the self-styled Republic, had made him the
creature of a conventional policy. To him Venice seemed a free state,
because he partook so largely of the benefits of her social system; and,
though shrewd and practised in most of the affairs of the world, his
faculties, on the subject of the political ethics of his country, were
possessed of a rare and accommodating dulness. A senator, he stood in
relation to the state as a director of a moneyed institution is
proverbially placed in respect to his corporation; an agent of its
collective measures, removed from the responsibilities of the man. He
could reason warmly, if not acutely, concerning the principles of
government, and it would be difficult, even in this money-getting age,
to find a more zealous convert to the opinion that property was not a
subordinate, but the absorbing interest of civilized life. He would talk
ably of character, and honor, and virtue, and religion, and the rights
of persons, but when called upon to act in their behalf, there was in
his mind a tendency to blend them all with worldly policy, that proved
as unerring as the gravitation of matter to the earth's centre. As a
Venetian he was equally opposed to the domination of one, or of the
whole; being, as respects the first, a furious republican, and, in
reference to the last, leaning to that singular sophism which calls the
dominion of the majority the rule of many tyrants! In short, he was an
aristocrat; and no man had more industriously or more successfully
persuaded himself into the belief of all the dogmas that were favorable
to his caste. He was a powerful advocate of vested rights, for their
possession was advantageous to himself; he was sensitively alive to
innovations on usages and to vicissitudes in the histories of families,
for calculation had substituted taste for principles; nor was he
backward, on occasion, in defending his opinions by analogies drawn from
the decrees of Providence. With a philosophy that seemed to satisfy
himself, he contended that, as God had established orders throughout his
own creation, in a descending chain from angels to men, it was safe to
follow an example which emanated from a wisdom that was infinite.
Nothing could be more sound than the basis of his theory, though its
application had the capital error of believing there was any imitation
of nature in an endeavor to supplant it.