"Nay, Marina, the Madonna asketh naught of thee but that which gracious
women must give--submission to their princes--in which, beloved, thou
seemest to fail; and duty to thy Church, in which thou, having ever been
before all others, art now neglectful. For from the altar of your home
no Masses ascend, no fragrance of flowers nor praise. Venice is more
faithful in that which she commands, and we, carina, may not longer
disregard her will without suspicion of disloyalty. Since Fra Francesco
is no longer here, I will apply for some new ministrant. Hast thou a
wish in this choice of a priest for the service of our oratory?"
She had started away from him almost resentfully, that he could charge
her--whose fealty to her Church was killing her--with neglect of any
duty it imposed; but, out of her larger love, she understood him better
than he knew her, and she forgave him and nestled back again. He had not
been brought up to place the requirements of the Church before the
commands of Venice,--few patricians were in those days,--she could not
make him realize the awful restrictions of that ban which, by her strict
teaching, made it impossible for the faithful to worship in Venice while
it remained unwithdrawn; yet he could count it as non-existent!
She was glad that she had felt the tumult of his heart while he answered
her so calmly; it made her realize what it cost him to deny her prayer;
it assured her that a staunch sense of duty underlay his strength;
pitilessly it assured her also that he would not change, and the very
firmness which came between them made her love and admire him the more.
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