"'Tis truly a venerable state," he said, "but a little tottering with
its years. All who love liberty, father, must mourn to see so glorious a
sway on the decline. _Sic transit gloria mundi!_ You bare-footed
Carmelites do well to mortify the flesh in youth, by which you escape
the pains of a decreasing power. One like you can have few wrongs of his
younger days to repair?"
"We are none of us without sin," returned the monk, crossing himself.
"He who would flatter his soul with being perfect lays the additional
weight of vanity on his life."
"Men of my occupation, holy Carmelite, have few opportunities of looking
into themselves, and I bless the hour that hath brought me into company
so godly. My gondola waits--will you enter?"
The monk regarded his companion in distrust, but knowing the uselessness
of resistance, he murmured a short prayer and complied. A strong dash of
the oars announced their departure from the steps of the palace.
CHAPTER XV.
O pescator! dell' onda
Fi da lin;
O pescator! dell' onda,
Fi da lin;
Vien pescar in qua;
Colla bella tua barca,
Colla bella se ne va,
Fi da lin, lin, la--
VENETIAN BOAT SONG.
The moon was at the height. Its rays fell in a flood on the swelling
domes and massive roofs of Venice, while the margin of the town was
brilliantly defined by the glittering bay. The natural and gorgeous
setting was more than worthy of that picture of human magnificence; for
at that moment, rich as was the Queen of the Adriatic in her works of
art, the grandeur of her public monuments, the number and splendor of
her palaces, and most else that the ingenuity and ambition of man could
attempt, she was but secondary in the glories of the hour.
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