The Bravo | Page 7

now! Thou art well enough
to row a gondola in the canals, Gino, or to follow thy master to his
Calabrian castle; but if thou would'st know what passes in the wide
world, thou must be content to listen to mariners of the long course.
The day of San Marco has gone by, and that of the heretics more north
has come."
"Thou hast been much of late among the lying Genoese, Stefano, that
thou comest hither with these idle tales of what a heretic can do.
Genova la Superba! What has a city of walls to compare with one of
canals and islands like this?--and what has that Apennine republic
performed, to be put in comparison with the great deeds of the Queen
of the Adriatic? Thou forgettest that Venezia has been--"
"Zitto, zitto! that has been, caro mio, is a great word with all Italy.
Thou art as proud of the past as a Roman of the Trastevere."

"And the Roman of the Trastevere is right. Is it nothing, Stefano
Milano, to be descended from a great and victorious people?"
"It is better, Gino Monaldi, to be one of a people which is great and
victorious just now. The enjoyment of the past is like the pleasure of
the fool who dreams of the wine he drank yesterday."
"This is well for a Neapolitan, whose country never was a nation,"
returned the gondolier, angrily. "I have heard Don Camillo, who is one
educated as well as born in the land, often say that half of the people of
Europe have ridden the horse of Sicily, and used the legs of thy Napoli,
except those who had the best right to the services of both."
"Even so; and yet the figs are as sweet as ever, and the beccafichi as
tender! The ashes of the volcano cover all!"
"Gino," said a voice of authority, near the gondolier.
"Signore."
He who interrupted the dialogue pointed to the boat without saying
more.
"A rivederli," hastily muttered the gondolier. His friend squeezed his
hand in perfect amity--for, in truth, they were countrymen by birth,
though chance had trained the former on the canals--and, at the next
instant, Gino was arranging the cushions for his master, having first
aroused his subordinate brother of the oar from a profound sleep.
CHAPTER II.
"Hast ever swam in a gondola at Venice?" SHAKSPEARE.
When Don Camillo Monforte entered the gondola, he did not take his
seat in the pavilion. With an arm leaning on the top of the canopy, and
his cloak thrown loosely over one shoulder, the young noble stood, in a
musing attitude, until his dexterous servitors had extricated the boat
from the little fleet which crowded the quay, and had urged it into open

water. This duty performed, Gino touched his scarlet cap, and looked at
his master as if to inquire the direction in which they were to proceed.
He was answered by a silent gesture that indicated the route of the great
canal.
"Thou hast an ambition, Gino, to show thy skill in the regatta?" Don
Camillo observed, when they had made a little progress. "The motive
merits success. Thou wast speaking to a stranger when I summoned
thee to the gondola?"
"I was asking the news of our Calabrian hills from one who has come
into port with his felucca, though the man took the name of San
Gennaro to witness that his former luckless voyage should be the last."
"How does he call his felucca, and what is the name of the padrone?"
"La Bella Sorrentina, commanded by a certain Stefano Milano, son of
an ancient servant of Sant' Agata. The bark is none of the worst for
speed, and it has some reputation for beauty. It ought to be of happy
fortune, too, for the good curato recommended it, with many a devout
prayer, to the Virgin and to San Francesco."
The noble appeared to lend more attention to the discourse, which, until
now, on his part, had been commenced in the listless manner with
which a superior encourages an indulged dependant.
"La Bella Sorrentina! Have I not reason to know the bark?"
"Nothing more true, Signore. Her padrone has relations at Sant' Agata,
as I have told your eccellenza, and his vessel has lain on the beach near
the castle many a bleak winter."
"What brings him to Venice?"
"That is what I would give my newest jacket of your eccellenza's colors
to know, Signore. I have as little wish to inquire into other people's
affairs as any one, and I very well know that discretion is the chief
virtue of a gondolier. I ventured, however, a deadly hint concerning his

errand, such as ancient neighborhood would warrant, but he was as
cautious of his answers as if he were