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Cooper, James Fenimore, 1789-1851

"The Bravo"

A heavy sigh struggled from
the chest of the old man, and, stroking down the few hairs which time
had left him, he lifted his cap from the pavement, and prepared to move.
"Thou art late from thy bed, Antonio," said a voice at his elbow. "The
triglie must be of good price, or of great plenty, that one of thy trade
can spare time to air himself in the Piazza at this hour. Thou hearest,
the clock is telling the fifth hour of the night."
The fisherman bent his head aside, and regarded the figure of his masked
companion, for a moment, with indifference, betraying neither curiosity
nor feeling at his address.
"Since thou knowest me," he answered, "it is probable thou knowest that
in quitting this place I shall go to an empty dwelling. Since thou
knowest me so well, thou should'st also know my wrongs."
"Who hath injured thee, worthy fisherman, that thou speakest so boldly
beneath the very windows of the Doge?"
"The state."
"This is hardy language for the ear of St. Mark! Were it too loudly
spoken, yonder lion might growl. Of what dost thou accuse the Republic?"
"Lead me to them that sent thee, and I will spare the trouble of a
go-between. I am ready to tell my wrongs to the Doge, on his throne; for
what can one, poor and old as I, dread from their anger?"
"Thou believest me sent to betray thee?"
"Thou knowest thine own errand."
The other removed his mask, and turned his face towards the moon.


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