"
"Did the sight warm thee at the soles of thy feet, Gino dear?"
"There was not a turbaned head on his deck, but every sea-cap sat upon a
well covered poll and a shorn chin. Thy Bucentaur is no longer the
bravest craft that floats between Dalmatia and the islands, though her
gilding may glitter brightest. There are men beyond the pillars of
Hercules who are not satisfied with doing all that can be done on their
own coasts, but who are pretending to do much of that which can be done
on ours."
"The republic is a little aged, caro, and years need rest. The joints of
the Bucentaur are racked by time and many voyages to the Lido. I have
heard my master say that the leap of the winged lion is not as far as it
was, even in his young days."
"Don Camillo has the reputation of talking boldly of the foundation of
this city of piles, when he has the roof of old Sant' Agata safely over
his head. Were he to speak more reverently of the horned bonnet, and of
the Council of Three, his pretensions to succeed to the rights of his
forefathers might seem juster in the eyes of his judges. But distance is
a great mellower of colors and softener of fears. My own opinion of the
speed of the felucca, and of the merits of a Turk, undergo changes of
this sort between port and the open sea; and I have known thee, good
Gino, forget San Teodoro, and bawl as lustily to San Gennaro, when at
Naples, as if thou really fancied thyself in danger from the mountain.
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