The charm of Venice

by Unknown

IN PRAISE OF VENICE

Though the incomparable and most decantated majestie of this citie doth deserve a farre more elegant and curious pensill to paint her out in her colours then mine. For I ingenuously confess mine owne insufficiency and unworthiness, as being the unworthiest of ten thousand to describe so beautiful, so renowned, so glorious a Virgin (for by that title doth the world most deservedly stile her), because my rude and unpolished pen may rather staine and eclipse the resplendent rays of her unparalleled beauty, then adde any lustre unto it; yet since I have hitherto contrived this slender and naked narration of my observations of five moneths travels in forraine countries, this noble citie doth in a manner chalenge this at my hands, that I should describe her also as well as the other cities I saw in my journey, partly because shee gave me most loving and kinde entertainment for the space of sixe weeks, which was the sweetest time (I must needes confesse) for so much that ever I spent in my life; and partly for that she ministered unto me more variety of remarkable and delicious objects then mine eyes ever survayed in any citie before, or ever shall, if I should with famous Sir John Mandevil our English Ulysses spend thirty whole yeares together in travelling over most places of the Christian and Ethnicke world. Therefore omitting tedious introductions, I will descend to the description of this thrise worthie citie: the fairest Lady, yea the richest Paragon and Queene of Christendome. (I call her not thus in respect of any soveraignty that she hath over other nations, in which sense Rome was in former times called Queene of the world, but in regard of her incomparable situation, surpassing wealth, and most magnificent buildings.) Such is the rareness of the situation of Venice, that it doth even amaze and drive into admiration all strangers that upon their first arrivall behold the same. For it is built altogether upon the water in the innermost gulfe of the Adriatique Sea which is commonly called Gulfo di Venetia, and is distant from the maine sea about the space of three miles.... The city is divided in the middest by a goodly faire channel, which they call Canal il Grande. The same is crooked, and made in the form of a Roman S. It is in length a thousand and three hundred paces, and in breadth at least forty, in some places more. The sixe parts of the City whereof Venice consisteth, are situate on both sides of this Canal il Grande. The names of them are these, St. Marco, Castello, Canareio, that lie on one side of it, and those on the other side are called St. Polo, St. Croce, Dorso Duro. Also both sides of this channel are adorned with many sumptuous and magnificent Palaces that stand very neare to the water, and make a very glorious and beautifull shew. For many of them are of a great height, three or foure stories high, most being built with bricke, and some few with faire free stone. Besides, they are adorned with a great multitude of stately pillars made partly of white stone, and partly of Istrian marble.... There is only one bridge to go over the great channell, which is the same that leadeth from St. Marks to the Rialto, and joyneth together both the banks of the channell. This bridge is commonly called Ponte de Rialto, and is the fairest bridge by many degrees for one arch that ever I saw, read, or heard of. For it is reported that it cost about fourescore thousand crownes, which doe make foure and twenty thousand pounds sterling. Truely, the exact view hereof ministered unto me no small matter of admiration to see a bridge of that length (for it is two hundred foote long, the channell being at the least forty paces broade as I have before written) so curiously compacted together with only one arch; and it made me presently call to minde that most famous bridge of the Emperour Trajan, so celebrated by the auncient historians, especially that worthy Greeke Authour Dion Cassius, which he built over the river Danubius, to enter the country of Dacia.... But this incomparable one-arched bridge of the Rialto doth farre excell the fairest arch of Trajans both in length and breadth. For this is both forty foote longer than the arch of his bridge was, and a hundred foote brooder, as I will anon declare in the more particular description thereof. But in height I believe it is a little inferiour to the other. I will proceede with the description of this peereless bridge of Venice. It was first built but with timber (as I heard divers Venetian gentlemen report), but because that was not correspondent to the magnificence of the other parts of the City, they defaced that, and built this most sumptuous bridge with squared white stone, having two faire rowes of pretty little houses for artificers, which are only shops, not dwelling houses. Of these shops there are two rowes in each side of the bridge till you come to the toppe. On that side of this bridge which is towards St. Marks, there are ten severall ascents of staires to the toppe, on the other side towards the Rialto twelve ascents. Likewise, behind these shops there are very faire staires to the toppe, which doe reach in length from the back of them to the farthest edge of the bridge.... At the toppe of the bridge directly above these rowes of buildings that I have spoken of, wherein the artificers shops are, there are advanced two faire arches to a prety convenient height which doe greatly adorne the bridge. In these arches I saw the portraiture of the heads of two Hunnicall Gyants that came into Italy with King Attila, very exactly made in the inside of the toppe. There are in Venice thirteen ferries or passages, which they commonly call Traghetti, where passengers may be transported in a Gondola to what place of the City they will.... Certaine little boates which they call Gondolas [are] the fayrest that ever I saw in any place. For none of them are open above, but fairly covered, first with some fifteene or sixteen little round peeces of timber that reach from one end to the other, and make a pretty kinde of Arch or vault in the Gondola; then with faire blacke cloth which is turned up at both ends of the boate, to the end that if the passenger meaneth to be private, he may draw downe the same, and after row so secretly that no man can see him: in the inside the benches are finely covered with blacke leather, and the bottomes of many of them together with the sides under the benches are very neatly garnished with fine linnen cloth, the edge whereof is laced with bonelace: the ends are beautified with two pretty and ingenious devices. For each end hath a crooked thing made in the forme of a Dolphins tayle, with the fins very artifically represented, and it seemeth to be tinned over. The water-men that row these never sit as ours do in London, but alwaies stand, and that at the further end of the Gondola, sometimes one, but most commonly two; and in my opinion they are altogether as swift as our rowers about London.... The fairest place of all the citie (which is indeed of that admirable and incomparable beauty, that I thinke no place whatsoever eyther in Christendome or Paganisme may compare with it) is the Piazza, that is, the Market place of St. Marke, or (as our English merchants commorant in Venice, doe call it) the place of S. Marke, in Latin Forum, or Platea Di Marci. Truely such is the stupendious (to use a strange Epitheton for so strange and rare a place as this) glory of it, that at my first entrance thereof it did even amaze or rather ravish my senses. For here is the greatest magnificence of architecture to be seene, that any place under the sunne doth yeelde. Here you may both see all manner of fashions of attire, and heare all the languages of Christendome, besides those that are spoken by the barbarous Ethnickes; the frequencie of people being so great twise a day, betwixt sixe of the clocke in the morning and eleven, and againe betwixt five in the afternoon and eight, that (as an elegant writer saith of it) a man may very properly call it rather Orbis then Urbis forum, that is, a market place of the world, not of the citie.... But I will descend to the particular description of this peerelesse place, wherein if I seeme too tedious, I crave pardon of thee (gentle Reader) seeing the variety of curious objects which it exhibiteth to the spectator is such, that a man shall much wrong it to speake a little of it. The like tediousenesse thou art like to finde also in my description of the Duke’s Palace, and St. Markes Church, which are such glorious workes, that I endeavoured to observe as much of them as I might, because I knew it was uncertaine whether I should ever see them againe, though I hoped for it. This street of St. Marke seemeth to be but one, but if the beholder doth exactly view it, he will finde that it containeth foure distinct and severall streetes in it, which I will thus divide: The first is that which reacheth from the front of St. Markes Church to the opposite front of St. Geminians Church. The second from that notable clocke at the cumming into St. Markes from the Merceria to the two lofty marble pillars neare to the shore of the Adriatique Gulfe. These two streetes doe seeme to contend for the superiority, but the first (in my opinion) is the fairest of them. The third reacheth from the bridge neare to the prison, along by the South side of the Dukes Palace, and so by the Sea shore, to the end of that stately building a little beyond the foresaid pillars. The fourth and the last from one side of St. Markes Church to the Canons houses. The first of these is beyond all comparison the fairest of all Europe. For it hath two such magnificent fronts or rowes of buildings on the North and South sides opposite each other, especially that on the North side, that they drove me into great admiration, and so I thinke they doe all other strangers that behold the same.... The fairest streete of all Venice saving Sainte Markes, which I have already described, is that adjoyning to St. Markes place which is called the Merceria, which name it hath because many Mercers dwell there, as also many Stationers, and sundry other artificers. This streete reacheth from almost the hither side of the Rialto bridge to Saint Markes, being of goodly length, but not altogether of the broadest, yet of breadth convenient enough in some places for five or sixe persons to walke together side by side; it is paved with bricke, and adorned with many faire buildings of a competent height on both sides; there is a very faire gate at one end of this street even as you enter into St. Markes place when you come from the Rialto bridge, which is decked with a great deale of faire marble, in which gate are two pretty conceits to be observed, the one at the very top, which is a clocke with the images of two wilde men by it made in brasse, a witty device and very exactly done.... The other conceit that is to be observed in this gate is the picture of the Virgin Mary made in a certaine dore above a faire Dial, neare to whom on both sides of her are painted two Angels on two little dores more. These dores upon any principall holiday doe open themselves, and immediately there come forth two Kings to present themselves to our Lady, unto whom, after they have done their obeysance by uncovering of their heads, they returne, againe into their places: in the front of this sumptuous gate are presented the twelve celestial signes, with the Sunne, Moone, and Starres, most excellently handled.

THOMAS CORYAT (1611).

BEAUTIFUL VENICE

Beautiful Venice,

Fair City of Song!

What memories of old

To thy regions belong:

What sweet recollections

Cling to my heart

As thy fast-fading shores

From my vision depart!

Oh, sweet poesie’s home

Is thy light colonnades,

Where winds gently sigh

As the sweet twilight fades.

I have known many homes,

But the dwelling for me

Is beautiful Venice,

The bride of the sea!

Beautiful Venice,

Queen of the earth!

Where dark eyes shine bright

Amid music and mirth;

Where gay serenaders

By light of the star

Oft mingle their songs

With the dulcet guitar.

All that’s lovely in life,

All that’s deathless in song,

Venetia’s fair isles,

To thy regions belong.

J. E. CARPENTER.

THAT GLORIOUS CITY IN THE SEA

There is a glorious City in the Sea.

The sea is in the broad, the narrow streets,

Ebbing and flowing; and the salt sea-weed

Clings to the marble of her palaces.

No track of men, no footsteps to and fro,

Lead to her gates. The path lies o’er the sea,

Invisible; and from the land we went

As to a floating city—steering in,

And gliding up her streets as in a dream,

So smoothly, silently—by many a dome,

Mosque-like, and many a stately portico,

The statues ranged along an azure sky;

By many a pile in more than Eastern pride,

Of old the residence of merchant-kings;

The fronts of some, though time had shattered them,

Still glowing with the richest hues of art,

As though the wealth within them had run o’er....

Gliding on,

At length we leave the river for the sea.

At length a voice aloft proclaims ‘Venezia!’

And, as called forth, She comes.

A few in fear,

Flying away from him whose boast it was[1]

That the grass grew not where his horse had trod,

Gave birth to Venice. Like the water-fowl,

They built their nests among the ocean-waves;

And where the sands were shifting, as the wind

Blew from the north or south—where they that came

Had to make sure the ground they stood upon,

Rose, like an exhalation from the deep,

A vast Metropolis, with glistering spires,

With theatres, basilicas adorned;

A scene of light and glory, a dominion,

That has endured the longest among men.

And whence the talisman, whereby she rose,

Towering? ’Twas found there in the barren sea.

What led to Enterprise; and, far or near,

Who met not the Venetian?—now among

The Ægean Isles, steering from port to port,

Landing and bartering; now, no stranger there,

In Cairo, or without the eastern gate

Ere yet the cafila came, listening to hear

Its bells approaching from the Red Sea coast;

Then on the Euxine, and that smaller Sea

Of Azoph, in close converse with the Russ

And Tartar; on his lowly deck receiving

Pearls from the Persian Gulf, gems from Golconde;

Eyes brighter yet, that shed the light of love,

From Georgia, from Circassia. Wandering round,

When in the rich bazaar he saw, displayed,

Treasures from climes unknown, he asked and learnt,

And, travelling slowly upward, drew ere long

From the well-head, supplying all below;

Making the Imperial City of the East,

Herself, his tributary.—If we turn

To those black forests, where, through many an age,

Night without day, no axe the silence broke,

Or seldom, save where Rhine or Danube rolled;

Where o’er the narrow glen a castle hangs,

And, like the wolf that hungered at his door,

The baron lived by rapine—there we meet,

In warlike guise, the caravan from Venice;

When on its march, now lost and now beheld,

A glittering file (the trumpet heard, the scout

Sent and recalled), but at a city-gate

All gaiety, and looked for ere it comes;

Winning regard with all that can attract,

Caegs, whence every wild cry of the desert,

Jugglers, stage-dancers. Well might Charlemain

And his brave peers, each with his visor up,

On their long lances lean and gaze awhile,

When the Venetian to their eyes disclosed

The wonders of the East! Well might they then

Sigh for new conquests!

Thus did Venice rise.

Thus flourish.

SAMUEL ROGERS.

[1] Attila.