XXXVII
Was Venice insatiable in requirement?
"It is enough," Caterina pleaded impotently. "Venice cannot ask more!"
"Nay, it is little," the Cornaro answered, "and only that which shallbring thee further honor. The Provveditori will charge themselves withthe details of the Royal progress--as the Signoria hath directed."
"Let me but sign the parchment, as it may please them," she urged, "forthe last time with the Royal Seal of Cyprus--but spare me more! I wouldfain withdraw into the Holy House of St. Francis and be at rest."
But this might by no means be permitted; and the Ambassador of theRepublic was ready with his threadbare argument of ingratitude, withmuch other reasoning of which he was scarcely less proud.
"One giveth not a regal gift with the downcast air of compulsion--elsewere it base in him who receiveth. Bethink thee ever of thine honor andof that of Venice," he admonished his sister many times during the weeksof preparation that followed upon the Queen's decision; whatever thedetail under consideration--and few escaped his vigilance--he wasinflexible, and her opposition could not go beyond his announcement:"_It is the will of Venice._"
Where were the nobles of this country tossed hither and thither like ashuttle-cock at the will of the strongest, that they would not arm forresistance--nay--wrapped themselves in sullen silence in the seclusionof their estates, or gathered in great companies to plunge into theforests and forget their vexations in the comradery and excitement ofthe chase, while for Caterina the slow days passed in agonized entreatythat some miracle might yet chance to save the realm for Cyprus?
Sometimes a wild hope came to her that this extremity might stimulatethem to an uprising to save the integrity of their land: but a few wordswith those of the Council most devoted to Cyprus convinced her that thehope was futile. The days of national ambition were over for this peopleof many races: their luxuries sufficed for their content and lulled theminto a lethargy which had so deadened their perceptions that the gradualencroachments of Venetian power could reach this climax without arousingthem to action.
Even the burghers who had so valiantly defended their Queen in earlierdays looked on in mournful inertia while preparations for the royalprogress went forward, knowing that if Venice thus joyfully accepted the'resignation' of their Queen--for thus had the act been freelytranslated to the Cyprian people--they were themselves powerless; andthe day of farewell dawned at last, when the royal cortege passed outfrom the palace-gates to the grand Piazza of Nikosia, where the formalact of renunciation was to be made.
It was a long and ceremonious procession--the high officials of therealm were there in splendid vestments, with many Venetian functionariesin crimson dignity among them--with a numerous escort of guards in fullarmor--with companies of cavalry and men-at-arms, while, in their midstthe Queen, in regal velvet and pearls, rode surrounded by the knightsand ladies of her court. But the color of her robe was black, as werealso the garments of her maids of honor--of satin, soft and lustrous,reflecting the lights from their jewels as they gleamed in thesunshine,--yet, to the Embassy of Venice the sombre choice wasdispleasing, as an unpermissible expression of the Queen's sentiments.
"Hath Venice also concerned herself with sumptuary laws for the ladiesof my household?" Caterina asked with ineffable disdain, whenremonstrance had been made. And they, having gained so much, feared topress her further.
After the solemn mass in the Duomo, the magnificent chords of a jubilantTe-Deum filled the Piazza with harmonies--it was the music of a Triumphindeed:--the soldiers, the knights, the high functionaries of State, thepriests and chanting choirs were all there; but the central figure underthe golden baldachino, upheld by the barons of the realm and surroundedwith royal honors, was not the Conqueror--but the victim--the prey--thesacrifice. It was rather they--the leaders of this pageant, in theircrimson robes of office with the shadow of the banner of San Marco abovethem, who rode proudly, sure of the honors and emoluments that awaitedthem when Venice should echo to them the Roman cry of victory--"_IoTriumphe!_"
And now the Queen pronounced the speech that Venice had decreed,wherein she claimed the love that her simple people had lavished uponher--
"_For Venice--to whom we have freely yielded our right._"
The words were strange upon her lips, and she spoke them stonily, as ifshe knew not that they had a meaning; and thus tortured from her, it maywell be questioned whether the Recording Angel ever noted them in hisbook--yet they were her answer to the _popolo_ who thronged about herwith tears and blessings, as she journeyed from city to city to repeatthe mournful ceremony of farewell; and the people heard them with sobsand groans.
In every city, as one for whom life had died and speech had lost itssoul--she uttered these words which Venice had decreed; in every cityshe looked on mutely from under her royal canopy--she who was sopowerless--while the flag of the island of Cyprus was supplanted by thebanner of San Marco, and the sculptured marble tablet with the wingedlions guarding its triumphant inscription, was placed as a record of akingdom too weak to rule.
FRAN. DE PRIULI VENETAE CLASS. IMPER. DIVI MARCI VESS. CYPRI FELICITER ERECTUM EST. NO. MCCCCLXXXVIII. 28 FEBRU.
How dreary the passage across those wide waters to the shores of thesmiling Adriatic for the desolate woman who had left them in the firstflush of her youth, with hopes as brilliant as the skies of Venice, andwith a promise as fair--to return to them lonely, despoiled,heart-broken, craving rest! The gray light of the storm-clouds by thebanks of the Lido and the moan of the rising winds which threatened toengulf the Bucentoro and the fleet of attendant barges coming in stateto meet the deposed Queen, were typical of the change.
Not caring for the splendor of her equipage, though the Doge himself washer escort--not deceived by the pageant of welcome that Venice offered,Caterina--very beautiful and pale and still, with the sense of themotive power broken within her--passed up the long length of the CanalGrande by the side of the Serenissimo, receiving the glad homage of thepeople of Venice.
"Caterina Veneta! Caterina Regina!"
Venice was outdoing herself in triumph, showering regal honors upon her:the bells of all the Campanili were ringing a jubilee: music greeted herfrom the shores as they glided by--the portals wreathed with festalgarlands, the beautiful city a glory of light and color; for the stormof the evening had passed and the morning had dawned in sunshine, andalong the Riva the people were thronging to welcome her--the Queen whohad bestowed the gift of her kingdom upon Venice!
Yet how had the Republic kept faith with Cyprus? Step by step, throughthe years, drawing the velvet clasp closer--closer--until there wasscarce life left--smiling the while: gathering in the revenues of therich land amply, with no care to spend them on the welfare of theisland, or for its increase: slowly, strenuously, with deft insinuationsof filial duty, striving to dominate the young Queen's moral judgmentsand press the claims which were of Venice's own creation--jealouslywatching lest she become too popular, and hampering her action throughthe very officers sent in guise of help--lest through freedom she shouldin truth grow strong to rule: Year by year--stealthily--smiling under acloak of splendor which the Cyprians loved, Venice had grasped atpower--a little more, and a little more--until resistance wasimpossible.
Was it meet to receive her thus? Could she find smiles for the peopleto-day with the memories of her bridal pageant greeting her at everyturn--a woman despoiled of hope--a widowed wife--a childless mother--aqueen without kingdom or power?
Before the Palazzo Corner Regina, the long procession came to pause, andwith the ceremonies that were meet, Zorzi Cornaro, brother to Caterina,knelt down bareheaded before the Doge and was knighted for his prowessin persuasion--since without his eloquence it might well have been thatthe Queen of Cyprus would not have given that complete and absolutesurrender which was so graciously announced to all the allies of Veniceas "_of the full and free determination_ of our most serene and mostbeloved daughter, Caterina Cornaro."
For
the grace of Venice--when her smiling mood was on her, as for thefear of her life-crushing frown, men did her bidding without question,and never _dared_ to fail.
But Venice still claimed a final act of gift and of submission, wherethe Venetian people might be her witnesses: and when the domes of SanMarco flashed in the sunset light, the procession entered in solemnstate--the Senate and Signoria and all the Ducal Court, in fullattendance--and once more Caterina knelt before the altar and repeatedher hard lesson, taught by that imperious ruler who knew how to hold thesea "in true and perpetual dominion," and who would not suffer 'hisbeloved daughter' to fail in one jot or tittle of her act ofrenunciation.
The homecoming of the Daughter of Venice was over.
* * * * *
Then, at last, came rest, and the sylvan-shades of Asolo--vine-crownedamong the hills, with the sea spreading far below--blue, shimmering,laughing--as if she laved but shores of content, under happy skies.
Whatever of good there remained for Caterina to do in this petty domainwhich the munificence of the Signoria had bestowed in exchange forCyprus, she did with a gracious and queenly hand, so that her realm waswider than her territory, for she had won the love of the peoplewherever she had passed, and in the years of her tried and chequeredlife, no evil was ever spoken of her. Yet often the gentle Queen slippedaway from the modest festivities she had devised for the pleasure of herslender mimic court--the music tourneys--the recitations--the fancifulquibbles in words--which could have had for her great weariness of emptyhands but a pale moonlight charm--to the lovely gardens of her hillsidecastle, to woo sad memories--and sweet as sad--of the far-off terracesof Potamia which Janus had prepared for his girl-bride.
Then once again Venice decreed a pageant for the gentle Lady of Asolo.
It was night, and the skies had clothed themselves in gloom; out on thelagoon the lights in the shipping scarce pierced the mists, and the rainfell in flurries, drifting in gusts under the arcades of the DucalPalace, and lifting the cloaks of the Senators and Councillors whosought shelter there while the procession was forming. But none turnedback for the wildness of the night, for the order of the Senate wasimperative that all the State officials and all the embassies must doher honor; and the time had been appointed by a King who bows to nomortal will and brooks no delay. Across the Piazza, down through thePalace Court-yards and through the _calle_ the people wereflocking--dark groups over which the lights of the torches flaredfitfully: the nobles were waiting in their gondolas--each at his palaceportal, to take his place--there were no sounds but the wind and therain--footsteps plashing over the wet pavements--a whispered order.
And now to strange, solemn music,--the sobbing of the 'cellos, thetenderer melancholy of the flute--the long procession was moving up theCanal Grande--the ducal barge and the gondola of the Patriarch notkeeping decorous line, for the roughness of the waters. From the portalsof the Palazzo Corner Regina a bridge of boats had been thrown acrossthe Canal Grande to the mouth of the Rio of San Cassan, and out of theblackness of the great Cornaro Palace the bearers met them, bringing inreverent state the form of the gracious Queen for whom all earthlyproblems were solved--who might never again answer their devotion withsmiles or benediction.
Silently each noble stepped up from his gondola, crossing himselfdevoutly and bowing his head as he joined the long, never-endingprocession: like a phantom vision it swept through the mists--each darkfigure bearing its torch--_as if it were the soul of him above hishead_, casting a ghostly reflection, in lessening rays, down through theblackness--gliding in air across the water, over the arch of the bridgewhich was all but invisible in the darkness--and down through the narrowrio to the Church of the Sant'Apostolli--the weird harmonies of thesongs of the dead echoing faintly back through the windings of the rio,like half-heard whispers from the spirit land.
When the solemn music of the midnight mass had been chanted over thenoble company in the Church of the Sant'Apostolli, they left her lyingin state before the altar of the Cappella Cornaro, while in the church,outside the chapel, the Ducal guards kept watch. Very still and pale shewas in the light of the tall wax candles burning about her and thetorches flaring from the funeral pyre, and strange to look upon in thecoarse brown cape and cowl of the habit of St. Francis, with a hempencord for girdle. But the Lady Margherita had tenderly folded the hoodaway from the beautiful face and head, and in the pale patrician hands arose lay lightly clasped, and a wealth of floral tributes heaped herbier--which was crowned with the royal crown of Cyprus.
Now that the gentle Sovereign had put aside forever her robes of royaltyand donned for her last vestment the symbol of service and humility, howshould Venice fear the unconfessed rivalry of her rare spirit,--a merewoman--conquered by the power of the State and stricken by death?
Now that the slight hands, folded nerveless over the quiet breast, mightnever more thrill to her emotions of large motherliness, and scattergladness with gracious flutterings, in swift response to a too-adoringpopulace--now that the sleeping eyes might never again unclose to smileher loving soul out to her people--the Signoria could be magnanimous inhomage: and through the days that the proud city mourned for her, thesable hatchments on church and palace bore the arms of Venice and ofCyprus.
+----------------------------------------------------+ | Transcriber's Note: | | | | Inconsistent hyphenation and spelling in the | | original document have been preserved. | | | | Typographical errors corrected in the text: | | | | Page 21 spozalizio changed to sposalizio | | Page 26 tumuluously changed to tumultuously | | Page 168 Prooveditore changed to Provveditore | | Page 169 bailo changed to bailo | | Page 178 unusued changed to unused | | Page 180 Conaro changed to Cornaro | | Page 180 Conaro's changed to Cornaro's | | Page 199 Benardini changed to Bernardini | | Page 205 dillettissimo changed to dilettissimo | | Page 234 Revenendissimo changed to Reverendissimo | | Page 306 dias changed to dais | | Page 311 dias changed to dais | | Page 343 Republica changed to Repubblica | | Page 356 Bucintoro changed to Bucentoro | | | +----------------------------------------------------+
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