erhaps in some degree inseparable from
his condition and habits. In a few moments, the slight interruption
produced by this short scene, was forgotten in the higher interest of
the occasion.

When the ducal party had taken their places, and an admiral of
reputation was in possession of the helm, the vast and gorgeous bark,
with its gilded galleries thronged with attendants, swept away from the
quay with a grand and stately movement. Its departure was the signal for
a new burst of trumpets and clarions, and for fresh acclamations from
the people. The latter rushed to the edge of the water, and by the time
the Bucentaur had reached the middle of the port, the stream was black
with the gondolas that followed in her train. In this manner did the gay
and shouting cortege sweep on, some darting ahead of the principal bark,
and some clinging, like smaller fish swimming around the leviathan, as
near to her sides as the fall of the ponderous oars would allow. As each
effort of the crew sent the galley further from the land, the living
train seemed to extend itself, by some secret principle of expansion;
nor was the chain of its apparent connexion entirely broken, until the
Bucentaur had passed the island, long famous for its convent of
religious Arminians. Here the movement became slower, in order to permit
the thousand gondolas to approach, and then the whole moved forward, in
nearly one solid phalanx, to the landing of the Lido.

The marriage of the Adriatic, as the ceremony was quaintly termed, has
been too often described to need a repetition here. Our business is
rather with incidents of a private and personal nature than with
descriptions of public events, and we shall pass over all that has no
immediate connexion with the interest of the tale.

When the Bucentaur became stationary, a space around her stern was
cleared, and the Doge appeared in a rich gallery, so constructed as to
exhibit the action to all in sight. He held a ring, glittering with
precious stones, on high, and, pronouncing the words of betrothal, he
dropped it upon the bosom of his fancied spouse. Shouts arose, trumpets
blew their blasts, and each lady waved her handkerchief, in felicitation
of the happy union. In the midst of the fracas--which was greatly
heightened by the roar of cannon on board the cruisers in the channel,
and from the guns in the arsenal--a boat glided into the open space
beneath the gallery of the Bucentaur. The movement of the arm