by Messer Alessandro
Leopardi--'come no c'e altro!'--there is no other like it--which he, the
favored gondolier, has been burnishing for the banquet of the Dandolo,
to which he shall that night convey the noble lady of the Giustiniani!"

"It is less beautiful," retorts a gondolier of the house of Mocenigo,
the fringes of his sash of rose sweeping the bridge of his gondola as it
moves forward, slightly tilting on its side, with a quick, disdainful
motion called forth by proper Mocenigo pride--so pliant are these barks
of Venice to the moods of the gondolier. "It is less beautiful--by the
Holy Madonna of San Castello!--than the lantern of wrought iron with the
jewels of _rubino_ that Messer Girolamo Magagnati makes this day, by
order of the Eccellentissimo Andrea Mocenigo, with the jewels of the
fine glass of Murano that shall be like roses flashing in the night!"

And he has sworn so great an oath, by that most ancient Madonna of
Castello, and so well has he vindicated the honor and splendor of his
house in thus early appropriating this recent glory of Venetian
workmanship in its own family emblem, that there is no present need of
distance between him and his rival, and resting upon his oar, as he
stands with a proud and graceful bearing of victory, he allows the
gondola to glide back into position with the lapping of the water.

For the gondoliers of the house of Giustiniani are unfolding, with
quick, ringing, jubilant voices, vast confidential tales of the fetes
that are in preparation for the marriage of the young noble of the
Council, their master, of which this banquet is only the precursor. "For
of course there will be a _sposalizia_! Santa Maria! there is no room on
the Canal Grande for the gondolas that come to the palazzo--from every
_casa_ in the 'Libro d'Oro'--to win the favor of the donna nobile of the
Giustiniani, for some bella donzella who shall be chosen for their young
master--who is like a prince, and will end one day in being Doge! Santa
Maria di Castello, he does not wait that day to scatter his golden
coins!"

If that question of "sposalizia" is not imminent there is truth enough
for any Venetian conscience in the story of the ranks of princely
gondolas at the bend of the Canal Grande, on the days when the donna
nobile of the Giustiniani gives welcome to her guests--princely gondolas
they are, with _felzes_ of brocaded and embroidered stuffs, the
framework inlaid with ivory and mother of pearl, wi