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Turnbull, Mrs. Lawrence

"A Golden Book of Venice"


But the people looked on gloomy and unappeased, filled with a horror
which the funeral pomp did little to quiet; they did not follow as the
_cortege_ descended the steps of the Piazzetta to embark in the waiting
gondolas that had been lavishly provided by the Republic. Santissima
Maria! they wanted to get back to their own quarters on the Giudecca and
breathe a little sunshine! What did one noble matter, less or more? "But
it's a gloomy barcarolle that a dead man sings!"
"And one that hath not died his own death!" a woman answered under her
breath, as she crossed herself with a shudder.
The wind inflated the empty folds of the crimson robe that draped the
bier, carrying it almost into the water, as the gondolas glided away
from the Piazzetta.
"San Marco save us! he wanted none of their pomp," said an onlooker
scornfully. "The ten good years of his life and a quiet grave in San
Michele--the Signoria would buy them dear, to give them to _him_
to-day!"
Yet if some had died unjustly, there was not less need of ceaseless
vigilance against unceasing intrigue, within and without that body which
held the power; and one morning the Senate was thrown into a state of
great agitation by disclosures from one of the brothers of the Frari,
indubitably confirmed by the papers which he delivered into the hands of
the Doge.


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