ters, sire, whom
the king's choice would honor, and Catarina is but a young maid yet.
Would it not be wiser, when you choose a queen, to select some older
donzella for your bride? Though it will, I can aver, be hard to choose
fairer."

It is just such half-way opposition that renders nature like that of
this young monarch all the more determined. No! King Giacomo would have
Catarina, and Catarina only, for his bride and queen. Messer Cornaro
must secure her for him.

But shrewd Uncle Andrea still feared the jealousy of his
fellow-Venetians. Why should the house of Cornaro, they would demand,
be so openly preferred? And so, at his suggestion, an ambassador was
despatched to Venice soliciting an alliance with the Great Republic,
and asking from the senate the hand of some high-born maid of Venice in
marriage for his highness, the King of Cyprus. But you may be very sure
that the ambassador had special and secret instructions alike from King
Giacomo and from Uncle Andrea just how and whom to choose.

The ambassador came to Venice, and soon the senate issued its commands
that upon a certain day the noblest and fairest of the daughters of
Venice--one from each of the patrician families--should appear in the
great Council Hall of the Ducal Palace in order that the ambassador of
the King of Cyprus might select a fitting bride for his royal master. It
reads quite like one of the old fairy stories, does it not? Only in this
case the dragon who was to take away the fairest maiden as his tribute
was no monster, but the brave young king of a lovely island realm.

The Palace of the Doges--the Palazzo Ducale of old Venice--is familiar
to all who have ever seen a picture of the Square of St. Mark's,
the best known spot in that famous City of the Sea. It is the low,
rectangular, richly decorated building with its long row of columns and
arcades that stand out so prominently in photograph and engraving. It
has seen many a splendid pageant, but it never witnessed a fairer sight
than when on a certain bright day of the year 1468 seventy-two of the
daughters of Venice, gorgeous in the rich costumes of that most lavish
city of a lavish age, gathered in the great Consiglio, or Council Hall.

Up the Scala d'Oro, or Golden Staircase, built only for the use of
the nobles, they came, escorted by the ducal guards, gleaming in their
richest uniforms. The great Council Hall was one mass of color; the
splendid dresses of the ladies, the scarlet