CHAPTER LIX. VENICE AND THE BUCENTAUER
The stains of slavery are only to be finally washed out with blood. Themore intelligent and wealthier classes ought once for all to understandthis, and to spare humanity the false solutions which settle nothing.
In other days, Venice, following the impetus given by her sisterLombardy, effaced the many years of her humiliation and servility inblood. It is not so now. She emerges from foreign dominion, not throughher own acts, but by the courage of others. Oh! if only her libertyhad been won by the valor of her brethren! But no, she was redeemedby foreign swords. Sadowa, the glory of Prussia, freed Venice, and theItalian nation asks no veil to hide this dishonor.
Nations, like individuals, require dignity to live--require the lifeof the soul besides mere physical existence, to which our rulers wouldcondemn us.
Once the Queen of the Adriatic carried her proud lion into the far east,repressed the victorious Ottoman, and dictated laws to him. The monarchsof Europe, invoked and backed by the jealous Italian States, conspiredtogether against Venice, and were driven off by the amphibious and braverepublicans. Who would now recognize those proud compatriots of theDandoli and the Morosini in the ranks of men who require the foreignerto free them, and, when free, throw themselves among the offscourings of"the Moderates"--a party ready for any abasement, for any infamy.
How tyranny alters the noblest beings, and emasculates them! Takecomfort, however, Venetians; you do not stand alone, for such asyou have I seen the descendants of Leonidas and Cincinnatus. Slaveryimpressed on the forehead of man such a mark of infamy as to confoundhim with the beasts of the forest.
However, humbled as they have been, and still are, the Italians do notneglect their amusements and their festivals. "Bread and pleasure!" theycry to their tyrants, as of old they cried to their tribunes; and thepriest, to please, cheat, and corrupt them, has surrounded himself bya mass of ostentatious ceremonies, surpassing all that the impostors ofold furnished, to conceal fraud by magnificent display. Do not talk ofpolitics, do not even think of them, but pay, and despoil yourselveswith a good grace, so as to support your masters richly, then they willgive you to satiety masses, processions, festas, games, amusements, andsensual pleasures.
The sailing of the Bucentaur was one of the ceremonies very dear to thepeople when Venice was free, when it had its own Government and Doge. Onthe day fixed for the festival, the Bucentaur, the most splendid galleyof the Republic, decked out with as much ornament and as many banners aspossible, glittering with gilding and rich hangings, bore the Doge, theMinisters of State, and the most remarkable beauties of the day, allin gala costume. They started from the palace of St. Mark, and rowedtowards the Adriatic. Many other galleys formed a procession, followingin the wake of the Bucentaur, as well as a large number of gondolasdecked for the holiday, and containing the largest part of thepopulation, male and female.
Oh, beautiful wert thou in those days, ill-fated Queen! when thyDandoli, thy Morosini, sought, in the name of Venice, to propitiate thewaves on behalf of the bold navigators of the Adriatic. Hail to thee,Republic of nine centuries! true mother of Republics! Yet if in thygreatness thou hadst associated with thine Italian sisters insteadof hating them, the foreigner would not have trodden us all down andenslaved us. Hide the wounds that your chains have made, smooth thelines that misery has impressed on your forehead. Do not forget, whetherrejoicing or sorrowing, those humiliations through which you havepassed, and henceforth remember that only when united can Italy defy thegreat foreign powers who are jealous of her uprise.
General Garibaldi stood leaning against a balcony of St. Mark's Palace,which looked over the lagoon, in the company of our fair Romans, withMuzio, Orazio, and Gasparo. He was listening to an old cicerone, who wasdilating on the ancient glories of the Republic, and after having spokenon a variety of subjects, this individual had arrived at the descriptionof the festival of the Bucentaur. He expressed his regret at not beingable to see one of them nowadays, and pointed to the spot whencefrom the mole started the famous craft, when suddenly Muzio's eye wasarrested by a well-known face, which appeared at the entrance ofthe cabin of a gondola drawn up at the gates of the palace. Muziodisappeared like lightning, and stood before Attilio, who descended,pressed his friend's right hand, and could only articulate themelancholy word, "Dead!"
"It was fated, then, that this relic of Roman greatness should come hereto die," murmured the ex-President, having partly heard, partly guessedthe tidings of Attilio.
"He died like a brave man," said the chief of the Three Hundred.
"And many Italians know how to die so," thought Muzio; "but it issweeter to die fighting against the oppressors!"
"I will return to our party," said Muzio, "and consult with the General,that he may turn our excursion in another direction, so as not to exposeIrene and Orazio to the shock of meeting the remains of their belovedone; I will afterwards rejoin you with Gasparo."
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