"_Il Marconino! Il Marconino_!"
There was a brief moment of confusion from the coming and going of
barges,--a short delay which brimmed their excitement to the fever
pitch,--then the waters cleared again of their floating craft, and the
Senator Marcantonio Giustiniani stepped forth on the deck to christen
the gift of his child.
The people looked, and would have shouted--but forebore--gazing
awestruck.
As he stood, firmly planted upon the prow, the crimson drapery of his
senator's robe parted and disclosed the firm young vigor of his limbs,
in their silken hose, and his very attitude showed power. But he wore
the face of a young Greek god who had lightly dreamed that he could
fashion Life out of grace and sunshine, and had waked to carve Endurance
out of Agony.
The child, held high in his arms, was radiant in the sunshine, its
rosebud mouth parting over pearly teeth in dimpling glee, the breeze
lifting the light rings of hair that caressed his soft, round throat,
the hands waving in childish ecstasy and grace.
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