_ CHAPTER XV
With the return of the young people from Rome, gala days had once more dawned for the Ca' Giustiniani, and the two sumptuous palaces which met at the bend of the Canal Grande were scenes of perpetual fete. The palazzo Giustinian Giustiniani had been chosen from all the princely homes of Venice as best fitted, from its magnificence, to be offered as a residence to Henry the Third of France, when that monarch had deigned to honor the Republic by accepting its prodigal hospitality. In the banquet halls, which had been prepared with lavish luxury for his reception, the few years that had passed had but mellowed the elaborate carvings and frescoes, while the costly hangings--of crimson velvet with bullion fringes, of azure silk embroidered with fleurs-de-lis, of brocades interwoven with threads of gold--had gained in grace of fold and fusion of tints.
If there were no halls of equal splendor in the palace which had been prepared for Marcantonio and his bride, it displayed in all its appointments an elegance and fitness which the stately Lady Laura was eager to exhibit to the critical appreciation of the fastidious upper circle of Venice.
Marina had had no share in its decorations, and when consulted before her marriage had expressed but one wish. "These cares of rank are new to me," she had said, with gentle dignity; "but thou wilt best know how to choose the elegance befitting Marco's home; for my father hath warned me that in these matters there is a custom which I, more than others, may not break. Dear Lady Laura, for Marco's sake forget that I am of the people, yet, remembering it, to choose but so much of splendor as seemeth needful, lest the palazzo be too costly for a mistress not noble by birth, and so"--she hesitated--"and so win Marco's friends to love me less."
"Marina, Marco hath told me, with a very lover's face, that some are noble by birth who are not so by name."
"Dear Lady," the girl answered, with a charming flush, "had Marco not so plead with me there could have been no question of this home."
The eyes of the great lady beamed with a new and tender pride; in nothing that her boy had ever done for her had he offered her so much as in this love of his which had threatened to part them, but had stirred instead the mother depths of her soul, which had become clouded by years of luxury and artificial life and the knowledge of the ceaseless ambitions and selfish scheming which her husband--for the intellectual stimulus she gave him--had been accustomed to confide to her. And now Marco was not less to her, but more, as he had promised; and if the uncertain hope of that dim, distant, ducal coronet moved her less, it was not that she would not still do her possible to help Giustinian to his ambition--but it had become a smaller peak in the distance since the home life had grown broad enough to bear her calmly when the proud Senator rehearsed some failure or disappointment, with disproportioned bitterness.
Thinking of these things she smiled at Marina with new appreciation; the girl's gentle face seemed to her more lovely and her rare calm and grace of spirit more truly noble than the Venetian vivacity of charm in which at first she had found her lacking.
"Thou hast a way of winning," she said, "which many might envy thee; and in seeming not to ask, thou shalt be served for love. It is the grace of one born to rule. But hast thou
no wish? Is there no one place I may make all beautiful at thine asking, within thy palace, to prove, sweet Marina, how thy Marco's mother loves thee?"
She parted her soft hair and kissed her forehead, but neither of them noticed that it was a first caress.
"I should like the oratory to be beautiful!" Marina cried, clasping her hands with sudden enthusiasm; "very beautiful--like a gift to the Holy Mother!"
"And it shall bring a blessing on thy marriage," the Lady Laura answered her.
So when the secretary and his young wife had returned to Venice and their palace was thrown open to guests, the private chapel of the Lady Marina was discovered to be a marvel of decoration--with superb Venetian frescoes set in marvelous scrollwork by Vittoria, with carvings of mother-of-pearl from Constantinople, with every sumptuous detail that could be devised; for, during the three years of their absence, the Lady Laura had not wearied of her gracious task nor stayed her hand. And into this incongruous setting--costly, overloaded, composite, and destitute of true religious feeling, a very type of the time in Venice--Marina brought the redeeming note of consecration, a priceless altar--ancient, earth-stained, and rude, almost grotesque in symbolism--as a great prize and by special dispensation, from an underground chapel in Rome. Also the rare and beautiful ivory crucifix had its history; the malachite basin for holy water had been a gift to the infant Giustinian from his eminence the cardinal-sponsor on the day of his baptism; there were other treasures, more rare and sacred still, within the shrine of the oratory, and there was a gift from his Holiness Pope Clement VIII.
There was no banquet hall in the palazzo Marcantonio Giustiniani, but it was not needed, for the two palaces were like one.
The Lady Laura was radiant. If there had ever been a question of the place that Marcantonio's bride should occupy in that patrician circle, the distinction conferred upon her by the Senate had sufficed to establish it. There could be no jealousy of one who occupied the highest place, of one so gracious and equal to her honors, only of those who should win her favor. So all came in the hope of it, and all were won; but there were no partialities, no intimacies; for all ambitions of the young and newly created patrician, the fullness of the home life sufficed to her.
Marina had grown more beautiful out of the joy of loving and the increased satisfaction of her religious life, to which she was more than ever devoted; her passion for beauty expressed itself by delight in sumptuous ceremonial, while her love of romance and her unquestioning faith were alike nourished on the legends of the saints which had become far more to her during her stay in Rome, where every hour had been happiness. These three years of absence had made some subtle difference in the Lady Marina; there was more mystery about her with less reserve, and a certain calm acceptance of the position all conceded had given her courage to discuss religious history and opinions in a serious way that was quite charming to the older prelates who mingled in Venetian social circles, where simple earnestness of soul was a quality so rare that it might have been mistaken for a depth of subtlety; but the Lady Marina talked or listened only because the themes were of vital interest for her. Besides, she had now her child to guide and she must know; and the learned men who gave their lives to the study of higher things were those, above all others, from whom she could learn the most; and with this unconscious flattery a little court, of a character somewhat unusual in Venice, had gathered in her salons. Her husband, coming in late from the Council Chamber one evening, rallied her upon it, saying that her receptions might be mistaken for those of a lady abbess--there were so many friars and grave ecclesiastics among her guests. His light tone concealed a little uneasiness, for the friar's warning had more than once recurred to him.
But it was impossible to convey anything to Marina by a half-concealed thrust, her nature was so essentially ingenuous, incapable of imagining intrigues of any sort.
"Yes, it is indeed an honor!" she answered, with her ready, trusting smile. "It is good of them, they are so much more interesting than the others; and to-night the talk was quite delightful! I would thou hadst been here, my Marco! Life is so much more beautiful since we have been to Rome!
Everything that was delightful came with our marriage," she added, turning her radiant face toward him.
He smiled, too, quite disarmed by her beauty and candor, and a little amused that this life of a Venetian princess should be so lightly included in this "everything" which marriage had brought to this maiden of Murano; but he could not help thinking how easily she wore her honors, and how she graced them; all Venice was at her feet, and she preferred the dull talk of a few ecclesiastics to the vivacious gallantry of the brilliant young nobles who thronged her salons--the more anxious to please this queen of the day, that their efforts won only the dignified and gracious, yet reserved, recognition that was extended to all her guests alike. She was the very reverse of Venetian in character and manner, but since she had been so honored by the Republic that difference was recognized as her distinction and charm.
"I doubt not," Marcantonio said, laughingly, "that if nuns might take part in our social functions thou wouldst prefer them also to thine own maidens and all the noble ladies of the Canal Grande. But who held part in this interesting ridotto to-night?"
"Truly, Marco, I think some day perchance I may get a dispensation and have all the nuns of San Donate for baby's festa in the oratory--would it not be beautiful to hear them chanting in our own palazzo! But that is only a dream; I know not if it may ever be."
She came toward him, in her shimmering festal robes, with the unconscious, happy grace of a child, dropping into a low seat close beside him, leaning back and letting her hands fall in an attitude of complete repose, while she gave him, without effort, the detail of the evening's talk. He was a little surprised at the way in which she made this graphic recital of a discussion he would have supposed beyond her comprehension--or at least beyond her concern--and he was not wholly pleased. He had quite forgotten that one of the charms of Marina upon which he had insisted in the days when he had made much of this maiden to his patrician mother was that in capacity for thought and in force of character she was far above the maidens of ancient lineage, from whom the Lady Laura would have had him choose his bride.
Marina had named, among others, Fra Francesco, her own spiritual director, a Servite friar of gentle and winning demeanor, who was much beloved both in his convent and in other circles where his duties called him. He was a man of simple habits and the most exemplary life, whose whole force lay in his extreme devotion to duty and his passionate love for the Church; his sole anxiety was for her glory, and he would have been supremely happy in the life he had chosen, were it not for his growing anxiety lest from her own sons she should receive dishonor. He was always a welcome visitor at the palazzo Giustiniani, and already the little prince of the household had a special smile for him.
"Ah, Fra Francesco, of course!" said Marcantonio, in an indulgent tone; "our own friars and ecclesiastics are welcome. But, carina, these foreign priests are often of a different way of thinking; and Don Fernanzo Lillo, that fluent Spaniard--verily I would have thee don thy most freezing dignity when he comes again."
"But, Marco mio, thou doest him injustice; he is most interesting; he was telling about the frescoes of the Michelangelo in the Sistine Chapel; he knoweth them well, yet I think he liketh them little."
"It matters not," said Marcantonio, a little disdainfully; "thou hast already seen them; thou canst have thine own opinion of their merit."
"But to hear all the allegories explained and all the illusions to the history of our Holy Church is
most interesting," Marina pursued calmly; "for the dear padre of San Donate had but little instruction; I must know about all these things for baby's sake--he is growing so fast."
"He is not going to be an artist," his father answered shortly; "and if he were, we could find a better person to instruct him than a Spanish member of the Jesuit College."
"
Marco!" exclaimed his wife, with a long note of surprise; "is not our Holy Church one? and are not her sons scattered over the whole world? I knew not he displeased thee," she continued, in a changed tone, after a little pause. "Of course I will not see him again. But is it Don Fernanzo Lillo himself, or--or--Marco--it cannot be the order! Thou canst not be so narrow!"
"At this time, Marina, with matters thus between Venice and Rome, I do not care to entertain any of their order or any foreign priests in our home; they do not place things in the proper light, and we have always held a special position of loyalty toward Venice. When she is in difficulties all the Ca' Giustiniani should seem to remember it; it could make no other difference."
"I do not understand," she answered, looking at him with perplexed brows.
"Why shouldst thou!" he exclaimed, glad to change a distasteful topic; "such weariness is not needful for thee. I will not bring the worries of the Council Chamber into thy boudoir."
"Nay, Marco, it would please me," she answered eagerly, rising instantly from her languid attitude to come and stand over him, laying one hand on his shoulder, half in caress and half in command. "Thy father tells these matters to the Lady Laura; and for baby's sake I should understand these troubles which touch our Republic. He will ask me questions very soon."
"Well, then," he consented ungraciously, "what is it thou wouldst ask?"
She laughed at his reluctance, pressing her hand with a firmer and yet more loving touch on his shoulder. "Because I am a Giustinian," she began, with a plea which invariably won him, "tell me about this question of Vicenza which occupies them all so much--I could not understand. Who is this Abbott of Nervessa?"
At her first words he had folded her caressing hand in his, but he dropped it in immediate displeasure and walked quickly away from her, speaking indignantly. "They talked of this in thy presence?"
"They said an abbe was imprisoned in the Piombi; they said it was against the law to imprison ecclesiastics except by the authority of the Pope. Oh, Marco mio, I am afraid he will be very angry!"
"What else did they tell thee?" he questioned doggedly.
"They said there was a Canon Saraceni also--both imprisoned in Venice. Marco mio, it is an insult to our Holy Father!"
"What else?"
"Nothing more--but only about some law of Venice that I did not understand; I wished to ask thee."
"And Fra Francesco was here and heard them talk?"
"Nay, Fra Francesco stays never long; and this was but a few moments before thy coming. I left the Sala Tiziana to see if all were going well in this little salon, and they were speaking of Vicenza, and I asked them. Wherefore art thou angry, Marco? What kept thee so late to-night?"
She had never seen him in such a mood; he had persistently refused to meet her beseeching glance; but now he drew a quick breath of relief, and came back to her side.
"It was this miserable matter of Vicenza that detained the Council in such lengthy session," he said, "and it was not fit to have been mentioned in thy presence, my sweet wife; I might well be angry. But since thou wert not there, I can pardon them."
"Yes, it was I who questioned them," she repeated eagerly, anxious to shield her guests from her husband's indignation, though she did not understand it. "They were talking of the Abbot of Nervessa and of his Holiness, and when I came they rose to do me honor; and I also, to be not lacking in courtesy, said, 'Le prego, Signori--I beg of you,' and bade them continue the talk in which they had seemed full of interest. Marco, in the Senate--do they know that the Pope is angry about the Abbot of Nervessa?"
Her eyes were full of the eagerness of her question. If they but knew all would be well, she thought; she had so wished for Marco to be there and hear them talk!
"Marina, this whole matter is a question for the government to decide; it is not for ecclesiastics to discuss--they know nothing of any laws but their own. This is a civil case."
"Would they not understand things better if they were allowed representation in the Senate?" she persisted. "And what is this law? And why is the subject not fit for Venetian nobles to discuss, since it touches them so nearly?" She was growing disturbed, for she feared some injustice, since Marco had not been indignant at the strange condition she had unfolded to him, and she had thought it must suffice only to name it to him.
The young patrician looked at her in amazement. Fra Paolo was indeed right, yet he had been almost indignant at the suggestion.
"The subject cannot be discussed," he said, in quick, hard tones, "because the Abbot of Nervessa hath committed crimes so atrocious that thou would'st shrink at the bare naming of them. And for Saraceni--the Canon of Vicenza--there came one day to the Senate a noble lady of Vicenza, young, and very beautiful, and in great trouble, casting herself at the feet of the Serenissimo, imploring protection from disgrace that the canon would bring upon her--a scandal I had never thought to name to thee. And there are other charges."
"It cannot be true!" she cried, flushed and trembling. "Dear Marco, they are priests!"
"The truth will be decided by the integrity of the law," he answered, severely; "they shall have justice at our courts; but it is a question for the civil courts, since the people also cry for justice, and the ecclesiastical law is not to deal with heinous civil offenses--though committed by one in priestly robes. It is a just law of Venice--ancient, and only now reaffirmed."
"This is the law they spake of, Marco?"
Now that she dimly understood there was some great trouble coming on the people, she must know the right at any cost--even that of her husband's displeasure; it was her duty to him, and she had put her question firmly.
"This--and another," he answered, unwillingly. "Listen, Marina, for I am weary of thy questions. The law to forbid new foundations of church or monastery, or the introduction of new religious orders without the sanction of the government--also an ancient law, and but now reaffirmed--is doubtless that of which they spake."
Marina stood confounded, with flashing eyes; how could the Republic dare to question the liberties of the Church! "Thou meanest, Marco, that the Church, which is the head, must ask the Doge what she may do when she would increase her own religious institutions--when she hath need of buildings for her holy work!"
"Thou hast an understanding quicker than I had believed," he answered, with irritation; "and listen further, Marina--'since a Giustinian should know the reason for the matters which concern the government,' that was thy word, if I remember--the half of the territory of Venice hath already passed into the hands of the clergy. Is that not ground enough to hold their establishments, that thou wouldst grant them more? And for the value of these possessions--for nowhere is a government more generous to the ecclesiastics than the Republic hath been--it hath been rated that a fourth part of the entire realty of the dominion--nay, some count it a third part--is already the property of the Church. Shall we nobles of Venice turn paupers and humbly beg of the clergy a pittance for our children?"
He laughed and kissed her hand as he rose. "Since thou hast asked it," he said lightly, "I have given thee the law--and there is an end of it. But let it not fret thee; Venice will know how to care for her own."
But Marina had suddenly grown very pale. "Marco," she gasped, detaining him, "will it be a war?--a war between Venice and--and----"
She broke off; she could not speak the word which seemed a sacrilege.
"Think of our child!" she whispered, as he gathered her in his arms, and tried to soothe her. "Marco, are we not a Christian nation? And our Patriarch--does he know about the displeasure of the Holy Father? What will become of us?"
"There will be no war," Marcantonio declared, with assurance. "Thou see'st, carina, these matters are not for women to discuss; they cannot understand; they are questions for the government alone; and well it is for us that the clergy are out of it, or we might have the spectacle of a Senate drowned in tears! There will be no war," he declared again, mistaking the self-control for which she had bravely struggled as an outcome of his attempts at consolation. "And now, since thou art thy sweet self again, hath the boy not made the day richer for thee with some tale of wonder thou wouldst unfold?" _