This brief dialogue was uttered with an ease that showed how far use had accustomed both to powerful bodily efforts, and with a firmness of tones that few could have equalled in a moment of so great physical effort. The masker was silent, but his purpose seemed to waver. Twenty strokes of his powerful oar-blade and the goal was attained: but his sinews were not so much extended, and that limb which had shown so fine a development of muscle, was less swollen and rigid. The gondola of old Antonio glided abeam.
"Push thy soul into the blade," muttered he of the mask, "or thou wilt yet be beaten!"
The fisherman threw every effort of his body on the coming effort, and he gained a fathom. Another stroke caused the boat to quiver to its centre, and the water curled from its bows like the ripple of a rapid. Then the gondola darted between the two goal-barges, and the little flags that marked the point of victory fell into the water. The action was scarce noted ere the glittering beak of the masquer shot past the eyes of the judges, who doubted for an instant on whom success had fallen. Gino was not long behind, and after him came Bartolomeo, fourth and last in the best contested race which had ever been seen on the waters of Venice.
When the flags fell, men held their breaths in suspense. Few knew the victor, so close had been the struggle. But a flourish of the trumpets soon commanded attention, and then a herald proclaimed that—
"Antonio, a fisherman of the Lagunes, favored by his holy patron of the Miraculous Draught, had borne away the prize of gold—while a waterman who wore his face concealed, but who hath trusted to the care of the blessed San Giovanni of the Wilderness, is worthy of the silver prize, and that the third had fallen to the fortunes of Gino of Calabria, a servitor of the illustrious Don Camillo Monforte, Duca di Sant' Agata, and lord of many Neapolitan Seignories."
When this formal announcement was made, there succeeded a silence like that of the tomb. Then there arose a general shout among the living mass, which bore on high the name of Antonio as if they celebrated the success of some conqueror. All feeling of contempt was lost in the influence of his triumph. The fishermen of the Lagunes, who so lately had loaded their aged companion with contumely, shouted for his glory with a zeal that manifested the violence of the transition from mortification to pride; and, as has ever been and ever will be the meed of success, he who was thought least likely to obtain it was most greeted with praise and adulation when it was found that the end had disappointed expectation. Ten thousand voices were lifted in proclaiming his skill and victory, and young and old, the fair, the gay, the noble, the winner of sequins and he who lost, struggled alike to catch a glimpse of the humble old man, who had so unexpectedly wrought this change of sentiment in the feelings of a multitude.
Antonio bore his triumph meekly. When his gondola had reached the goal he checked its course, and, without discovering any of the usual signs of exhaustion, he remained standing, though the deep heaving of his broad and tawny chest proved that his powers had been taxed to their utmost. He smiled as the shouts arose on his ear, for praise is grateful even to the meek; still he seemed oppressed with an emotion of a character deeper than pride. Age had somewhat dimmed his eye, but it was now full of hope. His features worked, and a single burning drop fell on each rugged cheek. The fisherman then breathed more freely.
Like his successful antagonist, the waterman of the mask betrayed none of the debility which usually succeeds great bodily exertion. His knees were motionless, his hands still grasped the oar firmly, and he too kept his feet with a steadiness that showed the physical perfection of his frame. On the other hand, both Gino and Bartolomeo sank in their respective boats as they gained the goal in succession; and so exhausted was each of these renowned gondoliers, that several moments elapsed before either had breath for speech. It was during this momentary pause that the multitude proclaimed its sympathy with the victor by their longest and loudest shouts. The noise had scarcely died away, however, before a herald summoned Antonio of the Lagunes, the masked waterman of the Blessed St. John of the Wilderness, and Gino the Calabrian, to the presence of the Doge, whose princely hand was to bestow the promised prizes of the regatta.
Chapter X
*
"We shall not spend a large expense of time,
Before we reckon with your several loves,
And make us even with you."
MACBETH.
When the three gondolas reached the side of the Bucentaur, the fisherman hung back, as if he distrusted his right to intrude himself into the presence of the senate. He was, however, commanded to ascend, and signs were made for his two companions to follow.
The nobles, clad in their attire of office, formed a long and imposing lane from the gangway to the stern, where the titular sovereign of that still more titular Republic was placed, in the centre of the high officers of state, gorgeous and grave in borrowed guise and natural qualities.
"Approach," said the Prince, mildly, observing that the old and half-naked man that led the victors hesitated to advance. "Thou art the conqueror, fisherman, and to thy hands must I consign the prize."
Antonio bent his knee to the deck, and bowed his head lowly ere he obeyed. Then taking courage, he drew nearer to the person of the Doge, where he stood with a bewildered eye and rebuked mien, waiting the further pleasure of his superiors. The aged Prince paused for stillness to succeed the slight movements created by curiosity. When he spoke, it was amid a perfect calm.
"It is the boast of our glorious Republic," he said, "that the rights of none are disregarded; that the lowly receive their merited rewards as surely as the great; that St. Mark holds the balance with an even hand, and that this obscure fisherman, having deserved the honors of this regatta, will receive them with the same readiness on the part of him who bestows, as if he were the most favored follower of our own house. Nobles and burghers of Venice, learn to prize your excellent and equable laws in this occasion, for it is most in acts of familiar and common usage that the paternal character of a government is seen, since in matters of higher moment the eyes of a world impel a compliance with its own opinions."
The Doge delivered these preliminary remarks in a firm tone, like one confident of his auditors' applause. He was not deceived. No sooner had he done, than a murmur of approbation passed through the assembly, and extended itself to thousands who were beyond the sound of his voice, and to more who were beyond the reach of his meaning. The senators bent their heads in acknowledgment of the justice of what their chief had uttered, and the latter, having waited to gather these signs of an approving loyalty, proceeded.
"It is my duty, Antonio, and, being a duty, it hath become a pleasure to place around thy neck this golden chain. The oar which it bears is an emblem of thy skill; and among thy associates it will be a mark of the Republic's favor and impartiality, and of thy merit. Take it, then, vigorous old man, for though age hath thinned thy temples and furrowed thy cheek, it hath scarcely affected thy wonderful sinews and hardy courage!"
"Highness!" observed Antonio, recoiling apace, when he found that he was expected to stoop, in order that the bauble might be bestowed, "I am not fit to bear about me such a sign of greatness and good fortune. The glitter of the gold would mock my poverty, and a jewel which comes from so princely a hand would be ill placed on a naked bosom."
This unexpected refusal caused a general surprise, and a momentary pause.
"Thou hast not entered on the struggle, fisherman, without a view to its prize? But thou sayest truly, the golden ornament would, indeed, but ill befit thy condition and daily wants. Wear it for the moment, since it is meet that all should know the justice and impartiality of our decisions, and bring it to my treasurer when the sports are done; he will make such an exchange as better suits thy wishes. There is precedent for this practice, and it shall be followed."
"Illustrious Highness! I did not trust my old limbs in so hard a strife without hopes of a reward. But it was not gold, nor any vanity to be seen among my equals with that glittering jewel, that led me to meet t
he scorn of the gondoliers, and the displeasure of the great."
"Thou art deceived, honest fisherman, if thou supposest that we regard thy just ambition with displeasure. We love to see a generous emulation among our people, and take all proper means to encourage those aspiring spirits who bring honor to a state, and fortune to our shores."
"I pretend not to place my poor thoughts against those of my Prince," answered the fisherman; "my fears and shame have led me to believe that it would give more pleasure to the noble and gay had a younger and happier borne away this honor."
"Thou must not think this. Bend then thy knee, that I may bestow the prize. When the sun sets thou wilt find those in my palace who will relieve thee of the ornament at a just remuneration."
"Highness!" said Antonio, looking earnestly at the Doge, who again arrested his movement in surprise, "I am old, and little wont to be spoilt by fortune. For my wants, the Lagunes, with the favor of the Holy St. Anthony, are sufficient; but it is in thy power to make the last days of an old man happy, and to have thy name remembered in many an honest and well meant prayer. Grant me back my child, forget the boldness of a heart-broken father!"
"Is not this he who urged us with importunity concerning a youth that is gone into the service of the state?" exclaimed the Prince, across whose countenance passed that expression of habitual reserve which so often concealed the feelings of the man.
"The same," returned a cold voice, which the ear of Antonio well knew came from the Signor Gradenigo.
"Pity for thy ignorance, fisherman, represses our anger. Receive thy chain, and depart."
Antonio's eye did not waver. He kneeled with an air of profound respect, and folding his hands on his bosom, he said—
"Misery has made me bold, dread Prince! What I say comes from a heavy heart rather than from a licentious tongue, and I pray your royal ear to listen with indulgence."
"Speak briefly, for the sports are delayed."
"Mighty Doge! riches and poverty have caused a difference in our fortunes, which knowledge and ignorance have made wider. I am rude in my discourse, and little suited to this illustrious company. But, Signore, God hath given to the fisherman the same feelings, and the same love for his offspring, as he has given to a prince. Did I place dependence only on the aid of my poor learning, I should now be dumb, but there is a strength within that gives me courage to speak to the first and noblest in Venice in behalf of my child!"
"Thou canst not impeach the senate's justice, old man, or utter aught in truth against the known impartiality of the laws?"
"Sovrano mio! deign to listen, and you shall hear. I am what your eyes behold—a man, poor, laborious, and drawing near to the hour when he shall be called to the side of the blessed St. Anthony of Rimini, and stand in a presence even greater than this. I am not vain enough to think that my humble name is to be found among those of the patricians who have served the Republic in her wars—that is an honor which none but the great, and the noble, and the happy, can claim; but if the little I have done for my country is not in the Golden Book, it is written here," as Antonio spoke, he pointed to the scars on his half-naked form; "these are signs of the enmity of the Turk, and I now offer them as so many petitions to the bounty of the senate."
"Thou speakest vaguely. What is thy will?"
"Justice, mighty Prince. They have forced the only vigorous branch from the dying trunk—they have lopped the withering stem of its most promising shoot—they have exposed the sole companion of my labors and pleasures, the child to whom I have looked to close my eyes, when it shall please God to call me away, untaught, and young in lessons of honesty and virtue, a boy in principle as in years, to all the temptation, and sin, and dangerous companionship of the galleys!"
"Is this all? I had thought thy gondola in the decay, or thy right to use the Lagunes in question!"
"Is this all?" repeated Antonio, looking around him in bitter melancholy. "Doge of Venice, it is more than one, old, heart-stricken, and bereaved, can bear?"
"Go to; take thy golden chain and oar, and depart among thy fellows in triumph. Gladden thy heart at a victory, on which thou could'st not, in reason, have counted, and leave the interests of the state to those that are wiser than thee, and more fitted to sustain its cares."
The fisherman arose with an air of rebuked submission, the result of a long life passed in the habit of political deference; but he did not approach to receive the proffered reward.
"Bend thy head, fisherman, that his Highness may bestow the prize," commanded an officer.
"I ask not for gold, nor any oar, but that which carries me to the Lagunes in the morning, and brings me back into the canals at night. Give me my child, or give me nothing."
"Away with him!" muttered a dozen voices; "he utters sedition! let him quit the galley."
Antonio was hurried from the presence, and forced into his gondola with very unequivocal signs of disgrace. This unwonted interruption of the ceremonies clouded many a brow, for the sensibilities of a Venetian noble were quick, indeed, to reprehend the immorality of political discontent, though the conventional dignity of the class suppressed all other ill-timed exhibition of dissatisfaction.
"Let the next competitor draw near," continued the sovereign, with a composure that constant practice in dissimulation rendered easy.
The unknown waterman to whose secret favor Antonio owed his success, approached, still concealed by the licensed mask.
"Thou art the gainer of the second prize," said the Prince, "and were rigid justice done, thou should'st receive the first also, since our favor is not to be rejected with impunity. Kneel, that I may bestow the favor."
"Highness, pardon!" observed the masker, bowing with great respect, but withdrawing a single step from the offered reward; "if it be your gracious will to grant a boon for the success of the regatta, I too have to pray that it may be given in another form."
"This is unusual! It is not wont that prizes, offered by the hand of a Venetian Doge, should go a-begging."
"I would not seem to press more than is respectful, in this great presence. I ask but little, and, in the end, it may cost the Republic less, than that which is now offered."
"Name it."
"I, too, and on my knee, in dutiful homage to the chief of the state, beg that the prayer of the old fisherman be heard, and that the father and son may be restored to each other, for the service will corrupt the tender years of the boy, and make the age of his parent miserable."
"This touches on importunity! Who art thou, that comest in this hidden manner, to support a petition once refused?"
"Highness—the second victor in the ducal regatta."
"Dost trifle in thy answers? The protection of a mask, in all that does not tend to unsettle the peace of the city, is sacred. But here seemeth matter to be looked into. Remove thy disguise, that we see thee eye to eye."
"I have heard that he who kept civil speech, and in naught offended against the laws, might be seen at will, disguised in Venice, without question of his affairs or name."
"Most true, in all that does not offend St. Mark. But here is a concert worthy of inquiry: I command thee, unmask."
The waterman, reading in every face around him the necessity of obedience, slowly withdrew the means of concealment, and discovered the pallid countenance and glittering eyes of Jacopo. An involuntary movement of all near, left this dreaded person standing singly, confronted with the Prince of Venice, in a wide circle of wondering and curious listeners.
"I know thee not!" exclaimed the Doge, with an open amazement that proved his sincerity, after regarding the other earnestly for a moment. "Thy reasons for the disguise should be better than thy reasons for refusing the prize."
The Signor Gradenigo drew near to the sovereign, and whispered in his ear. When he had done, the latter cast one look, in which curiosity and aversion were in singular union, at the marked countenance of the Bravo, and then he silently motioned to him to depart. The throng drew about the royal person with
instinctive readiness, closing the space in his front.
"We shall look into this at our leisure," said the Doge. "Let the festivities proceed."
Jacopo bowed low, and withdrew. As he moved along the deck of the Bucentaur, the senators made way, as if pestilence was in his path, though it was quite apparent, by the expression of their faces, that it was in obedience to a feeling of a mixed character. The avoided, but still tolerated Bravo descended to his gondola, and the usual signals were given to the multitude beneath, who believed the customary ceremonies were ended.
"Let the gondolier of Don Camillo Monforte stand forth," cried a herald, obedient to the beck of a superior.
"Highness, here," answered Gino, troubled and hurried.
"Thou art of Calabria?"
"Highness, yes."
"But of long practice on our Venetian canals or thy gondola could never have outstripped those of the readiest oarsmen. Thou servest a noble master?"
"Highness, yes."
"And it would seem that the Duke of St. Agata is happy in the possession of an honest and faithful follower?"
"Highness, too happy."
"Kneel, and receive the reward of thy resolution and skill."
Gino, unlike those who had preceded him, bent a willing knee to the deck, and took the prize with a low and humble inclination of the body. At this moment the attention of the spectators was drawn from the short and simple ceremony by a loud shout, which arose from the water at no great distance from the privileged bark of the senate. A common movement drew all to the side of the galley, and the successful gondolier was quickly forgotten.
A hundred boats were moving in a body towards the Lido, while the space they covered on the water presented one compact mass of the red caps of fishermen. In the midst of this marine picture was seen the bare head of Antonio, borne along in the floating multitude, without any effort of his own. The general impulsion was received from the vigorous arms of some thirty or forty of their number, who towed those in the rear by applying their force to three or four large gondolas in advance.