In the midst of this exhilarating and bright spectacle was heard the din
of a hundred thousand voices. Above the constant hum, there arose, from
time to time, the blasts of trumpets and the symphonies of rich music.
Here the improvisatore, secretly employed by a politic and mysterious
government, recounted, with a rapid utterance, and in language suited to
the popular ear, at the foot of the spars which upheld the conquered
banners of Candia, Crete, and the Morea, the ancient triumphs of the
Republic; while there, a ballad-singer chanted, to the greedy crowd, the
glory and justice of San Marco. Shouts of approbation succeeded each
happy allusion to the national renown, and bravos, loud and
oft-repeated, were the reward of the agents of the police, whenever they
most administered to the self-delusion and vanity of their audience.
In the meantime, gondolas rich in carvings and gildings, and containing
females renowned for grace and beauty, began to cluster in hundreds
around the port. A general movement had already taken place among the
shipping, and a wide and clear channel was opened from the quay at the
foot of the Piazzetta, to the distant bank, which shut out the waves of
the Adriatic. Near this watery path, boats of all sizes and
descriptions, filled with the curious and observant, were fast
collecting.
The crowd thickened as the day drew in, all the vast plains of the
Padovano appearing to have given up their people to swell the numbers of
those that rejoiced.
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