usty brown face, with some difficulty bearing his head erect, forming
a pathetic figure as he strode along; she, a perfect picture of grace,
with the pure gentleness of an angel in her divinely beautiful face, an
irresistible charm in her longing glances, a queenly dignity enthroned
upon her open lily-white brow, shadowed by her dark locks, a sweet
smile upon her cheeks and lips, her pretty head bent with winsome
submissiveness, her slender form moving with ease, scarce seeming to
touch the earth--a beautiful lady in fact, a native of another and a
higher world. Of course you have seen angelic forms like this,
conceived and painted by the old masters. Such was Annunciata. How then
could it be otherwise but that every one who saw her was astonished and
enraptured with her beauty, and all the fiery youths of the Seignory
were consumed with passion, measuring the old Doge with mocking looks,
and swearing in their hearts that they would be the Mars to this
Vulcan, let the consequences be what they might? Annunciata soon found
herself surrounded with admirers, to whose flattering and seductive
words she listened quietly and graciously, without thinking anything in
particular about them. The conception which her pure angelic spirit had
formed of her relation to her aged and princely husband was that she
ought to honour him as her supreme lord, and cling to him with all the
unquestioning fidelity of a submissive handmaiden. He treated her
kindly, nay tenderly; he pressed her to his ice-cold heart and called
her his darling; he heaped up all the jewels he could find upon her;
what else could she wish for from him, what other rights could she have
upon him? In this way, therefore, it was impossible for the thought of
unfaithfulness to the old man ever in any way to find lodgment in her
mind; all that lay beyond the narrow circle of these limited relations
was to this good child an unknown region, whose forbidden borders were
wrapped in dark mists, unseen and unsuspected by her. Hence all efforts
to win her love were fruitless.

But the flames of passion--of love for the beautiful Dogess--burned in
none so violently and so uncontrolled as in Michele Steno.
Notwithstanding his youth, he was invested with the important and
influential post of Member of the Council of Forty. Relying upon this
fact, as well as upon his personal beauty, he felt confident of
success. Old Marino Falieri he did not fear in the least; and, indeed,
the old