The Bravo (14 page)

"I thank thee for thy care, though the sight of yonder old palace is as
good a hint to the loose tongue as the sight of a gibbet on the
sea-shore to a pirate. I met an ancient fellow in the Piazzetta about
the time the masquers came in, and we had some words on this matter. By
his tally every second man in Venice is well paid for reporting what the
others say and do. 'Tis a pity, with all their seeming love of justice,
good Roderigo, that the senate should let divers knaves go at large;
men, whose very faces cause the stones to redden with anger and shame!"

"I did not know that any such were openly seen in Venice; what is
secretly done may be favored for a time, through difficulty of proof,
but—"

"Cospetto! They tell me the councils have a short manner of making a
sinner give up his misdeeds. Now, here is the miscreant Jacopo. What
aileth thee, man? The anchor on which thou leanest is not heated."

"Nor is it of feathers; one's bones may ache from its touch, without
offence, I hope."

"The iron is of Elba, and was forged in a volcano. This Jacopo is one
that should not go at large in an honest city, and yet is he seen pacing
the square with as much ease as a noble in the Broglio!"

"I know him not."

"Not to know the boldest hand and surest stiletto in Venice, honest
Roderigo, is to thy praise. But he is well marked among us of the port,
and we never see the man but we begin to think of our sins, and of
penances forgotten. I marvel much that the inquisitors do not give him
to the devil on some public ceremony, for the benefit of small
offenders!"

"Are his deeds so notorious that they might pronounce on his fate
without proof?"

"Go, ask that question in the streets! Not a Christian loses his life in
Venice without warning; and the number is not few, to say nothing of
those who die with state fevers, but men see the work of his sure hand
in the blow. Signor Roderigo, your canals are convenient graves for
sudden deaths!"

"Methinks there is contradiction in this. Thou speakest of proofs of the
hand that gave it, in the manner of the blow, and then thou callest in
the aid of the canals to cover the whole deed. Truly, there is some
wrong done this Jacopo, who is, haply, a man slandered."

"I have heard of slandering a priest, for they are Christians, bound to
keep good names for the church's honor, but to utter an injury against a
bravo would a little exceed the tongue of an avocato. What mattereth it
whether the hand be a shade deeper in color or not, when blood is on
it."

"Thou sayest truly," answered the pretended Roderigo, drawing a heavy
breath. "It mattereth little indeed to him condemned, whether the
sentence cometh of one or of many crimes."

"Dost know, friend Roderigo, that this very argument hath made me less
scrupulous concerning the freight I am called on to carry, in this
secret trade of ours. Thou art fairly in the senate's business, worthy
Stefano, I say to myself, and therefore the less reason that thou
should'st be particular in the quality of the merchandise. That Jacopo
hath an eye and a scowl that would betray him, were he chosen to the
chair of St. Peter! But doff thy mask, Signor Roderigo, that the sea-air
may cool thy cheek; 'tis time there should no longer be this suspicion
between old and tried friends."

"My duty to those that send me forbid the liberty, else would I gladly
stand face to face with thee, Master Stefano."

"Well, notwithstanding thy caution, cunning Signore, I would hazard ten
of the sequins thou art to pay to me, that I will go on the morrow into
the crowd of San Marco, and challenge thee openly, by name, among a
thousand. Thou mayest as well unmask, for I tell thee thou art as well
known to me as the lateen yards of my felucca."

"The less need to uncover. There are certain signs, no doubt, by which
men who meet so often should be known to each other."

"Thou hast a goodly countenance, Signore, and the less need to hide it.
I have noted thee among the revellers, when thou hast thought thyself
unseen; and I will say of thee this much, without wish to gain aught in
our bargain, one of appearance fair as thine, Signor Roderigo, had
better be seen openly than go thus for ever behind a cloud."

"My answer hath been made. What the state wills cannot be overlooked;
but since I see thou knowest me, take heed not to betray thy knowledge."

"Thou would'st not be more safe with thy confessor. Diamine! I am not a
man to gad about among the water-sellers, with a secret at the top of my
voice; but thou didst leer aside when I winked at thee dancing among the
masquers on the quay. Is it not so, Roderigo?"

"There is more cleverness in thee, Master Stefano, than I had thought;
though thy readiness with the felucca is no secret."

"There are two things, Signor Roderigo, on which I value myself, but
always, I hope, with Christian moderation. As a mariner of the coast, in
mistral or sirocco, levanter or zephyr, few can claim more practice; and
for knowing an acquaintance in a carnival, I believe the father of evil
himself could not be so disguised that eye of mine should not see his
foot! For anticipating a gale, or looking behind a mask, Signor
Roderigo, I know not my own equal among men of small learning."

"These faculties are great gifts in one who liveth by the sea and a
critical trade."

"Here came one Gino, a gondolier of Don Camillo Monforte, and an ancient
fellow of mine, aboard the felucca, attended by a woman in mask. He
threw off the girl dexterously enough, and, as he thought, among
strangers; but I knew her at a glance for the daughter of a wine-seller,
who had already tasted lachryma christi of mine. The woman was angered
at the trick, but making the best of luck, we drove a bargain for the
few casks which lay beneath the ballast, while Gino did his master's
business in San Marco."

"And what that business was thou didst not learn, good Stefano?"

"How should I, Master Roderigo, when the gondolier scarce left time for
greeting; but Annina—"

"Annina!"

"The same. Thou knowest Annina, old Tomaso's daughter; for she danced in
the very set in which I detected thy countenance! I would not speak thus
of the girl, but that I know thou art not backward to receive liquors
that do not visit the custom-house, thyself."

"For that, fear nothing. I have sworn to thee that no secret of this
nature shall pass my lips. But this Annina is a girl of quick wit and
much boldness."

"Between ourselves, Signor Roderigo, it is not easy to tell who is in
the senate's pay here in Venice, or who is not. I have sometimes
fancied, by thy manner of starting, and the tones of thy voice, that
thou wert thyself no less than the lieutenant-general of the galleys, a
little disguised."

"And this with thy knowledge of men!"

"If faith were always equal, where would be its merit? Thou hast never
been hotly chased by an infidel, Master Roderigo, or thou would'st know
how the mind of man can change from hope to fear, from the big voice to
the humble prayer! I remember once, in the confusion and hurry of
baffling winds and whistling shot, having always turbans before the eye,
and the bastinado in mind, to have beseeched St. Stefano in some such
voice as one would use to a dog, and to have bullied the men with the
whine of a young kitten. Corpo di Bacco! One hath need of experience in
these affairs, Signor Roderigo, to know even his own merits."

"I believe thee. But who is this Gino of whom thou hast spoken, and what
has his occupation, as a gondolier, to do with one known in thy youth in
Calabria?"

"Therein lie matters exceeding my knowledge. His master, and I may say
my master, for I was born on his estates, is the young Duca di Sant'
Agata—the same that pushes his fortunes with the senate in a claim to
the riches and honors of the last Monforte that sat in thy councils. The
debate hath so long endured, that the lad hath made himself a gondolier
by sheer shoving an oar between his master's palace and those of the
nobles he moves with interest—at least such is Gino's own history of
his education."

"I know the man. He wears the colors of him he serves. Is he of quick
wit?"

"Signor Roderigo, all who come of Calabria cannot boast that advantage.
We are no more than our neighbors, and there are exceptions, in all
communities as in all families. Gino is ready enough with his oar, and
as good a youth in his way as need be. But as to looking into things
beyond their surface, why we should not expect the delicacy of a
beccafica in a goose. Nature makes men, though kings make nobles. Gino
is a gondolier."

"And of good skill?"

"I say nothing of his arm or his leg, both of which are well enough in
their places; but when it comes to knowing men and things—poor Gino is
but a gondolier! The lad hath a most excellent heart, and is never
backward to serve a friend. I love him, but thou would'st not have me
say more than the truth will warrant."

"Well, keep thy felucca in readiness, for we know not the moment it may
be needed."

"Thou hast only to bring thy freight, Signore, to have the bargain
fulfilled."

"Adieu. I would recommend to thee to keep apart from all other trades,
and to see that the revelries of to-morrow do not debauch thy people."

"God speed thee, Signor Roderigo. Naught shall be wanting."

The Bravo stepped into his gondola, which glided from the felucca's side
with a facility which showed that an arm skilled in its use held the
oar. He waved his hand in adieu to Stefano, and then the boat
disappeared among the hulls that crowded the port.

For a few minutes the padrone of the Bella Sorrentina continued to pace
her decks, snuffing the fresh breeze that came in over the Lido, and
then he sought his rest. By this time the dark, silent gondolas, which
had been floating by hundreds through the basin, were all gone. The
sound of music was heard no longer on the canals, and Venice, at all
times noiseless and peculiar, seemed to sleep the sleep of the dead.

"The fisher came
From his green islet, bringing o'er the waves
His wife and little one; the husbandman
From the firm land, with many a friar and nun.
And village maiden, her first flight from home,
Crowding the common ferry."
ROGERS.

A brighter day than that which succeeded the night last mentioned never
dawned upon the massive domes, the gorgeous palaces, and the glittering
canals of Venice. The sun had not been long above the level of the Lido
before the strains of horns and trumpets arose from the square of St.
Mark. They were answered in full echoes from the distant arsenal. A
thousand gondolas glided from the canals, stealing in every direction
across the port, the Giudecca, and the various outer channels of the
place; while the well known routes from Fusina and the neighboring isles
were dotted with endless lines of boats urging their way towards the
capital.

The citizens began to assemble early, in their holiday attire, while
thousands of contadini landed at the different bridges, clad in the gay
costumes of the main. Before the day had far advanced, all the avenues
of the great square were again thronged, and by the time the bells of
the venerable cathedral had finished a peal of high rejoicing, St.
Mark's again teemed with its gay multitude. Few appeared in masks, but
pleasure seemed to lighten every eye, while the frank and unconcealed
countenance willingly courted the observation and sympathy of its
neighbors. In short, Venice and her people were seen, in all the gaiety
and carelessness of a favorite Italian festa. The banners of the
conquered nations flapped heavily on the triumphal masts, each
church-tower hung out its image of the winged lion, and every palace was
rich in its hangings of tapestry and silk, floating from balcony and
window.

In the midst of this exhilarating and bright spectacle was heard the din
of a hundred thousand voices. Above the constant hum, there arose, from
time to time, the blasts of trumpets and the symphonies of rich music.
Here the improvisatore, secretly employed by a politic and mysterious
government, recounted, with a rapid utterance, and in language suited to
the popular ear, at the foot of the spars which upheld the conquered
banners of Candia, Crete, and the Morea, the ancient triumphs of the
Republic; while there, a ballad-singer chanted, to the greedy crowd, the
glory and justice of San Marco. Shouts of approbation succeeded each
happy allusion to the national renown, and bravos, loud and
oft-repeated, were the reward of the agents of the police, whenever they
most administered to the self-delusion and vanity of their audience.

In the meantime, gondolas rich in carvings and gildings, and containing
females renowned for grace and beauty, began to cluster in hundreds
around the port. A general movement had already taken place among the
shipping, and a wide and clear channel was opened from the quay at the
foot of the Piazzetta, to the distant bank, which shut out the waves of
the Adriatic. Near this watery path, boats of all sizes and
descriptions, filled with the curious and observant, were fast
collecting.

The crowd thickened as the day drew in, all the vast plains of the
Padovano appearing to have given up their people to swell the numbers of
those that rejoiced. A few timid and irresolute masquers now began to
appear in the throng, stealing a momentary pleasure under the favor of
that privileged disguise, from out of the seclusion and monotony of
their cloisters. Next came the rich marine equipages of the accredited
agents of foreign states, and then, amid the sound of clarions and the
cries of the populace, the Bucentaur rowed out of the channel of the
arsenal, and came sweeping to her station at the quay of St. Mark.

These preliminaries, which occupied some hours, being observed, the
javelin-men, and others employed about the person of the head of the
Republic, were seen opening an avenue through the throng. After which,
the rich strains of a hundred instruments proclaimed the approach of the
Doge.