We pass between these columns and over the place that has been so often reddened by blood at public executions, and glance up before entering the square, at the elegant architecture of the palace on our left. First, a row of Corinthian pillars upholds a richly-ornamented frieze, and within the pillars Gothic arches form the covered passage for pedestrians; above, the Gothic pillars are repeated, the bend of the inner arches having elegantly sculptured marble figures, in half-reclining positions, and carved heads over the key-stones; above this second tier comes an elegant frieze, ornamented with Cupids holding beautifully-sculptured hanging garlands, and sheltered by an elaborate projecting cornice; above this, the marble carved rail and balusters, with each post surmounted with a full-length marble statue.
This elegant and elaborate workmanship, these two grand columns, and the series of arches of the Doge's Palace, the canal between the palace and the prison, and the Bridge of Sighs, were the first objects that greeted my sight going out from the hotel in the morning; like the gondolas and canals, they seemed of the Venice we read about, as they do even now, as we look at them in one of the photographic mementos of our visit.
The great Square of St. Mark, or "Pe-at-zir San Marko," as tourists learn to call it, after they have been there, is five hundred and eighty feet long by about two hundred and seventy wide. It is an elegant enclosure, paved with broad, flat slabs, and surrounded by elegant buildings, the lower stories all around, except beneath one or two public buildings, are arcades, in which are shops, restaurants, and money changers' offices.
At one end of the square, right across the whole space of it, rises the Church of St. Mark, with its arched entrances, florid decorations, bronze horses, and mosque-like cupolas: upon one side extends the Ducal Palace, the lower story on the square utilized into cafés and shops; upon the other side are the Mint and Library, and also the great clock tower, with a huge sun-dial, in blue and gold, upon its square side; above it, in a sheltered niche, is the Virgin and Child; above this, a huge winged lion upon a cornice; and standing high upon the top of the tower, in the open air, is a great bell, beside which stand two huge bronze Moors, armed with hammers, with which they strike the hours on the bell.
Looking towards the Church of St. Mark, we see the lofty Campanile lifting its huge pyramidal top three hundred and twenty feet above the pavement. Here, in this great square, of a cool evening and moonlight night, played a fine band of music, while the public distributed itself about at tables, which were set far out upon the pave, and ordered refreshing ice-creams, delicate cakes, and light wines, from the café waiters, which they enjoyed while listening to the music. Ladies and gentlemen sauntered up and down; lazzaroni stretched themselves at full length in shadowy nooks; pedlers of curiosities, selecting foreigners with unnerring instinct, sought to dispose of their wares at six times their value, reminding one very forcibly of their image-selling brethren in America. A fellow, with a handful of tooth-picks carved out of bone into the shape of a gondola, sauntered up.
"Signore Inglese" (exhibiting his wares), "you buy him?
"No, no" (shaking my head); "don't want it."
Who ever heard of a man's picking his teeth after eating ice-cream? But the peripatetic dealer was not to be repulsed at the first charge.
"Signore, buy; varee sheep."
"How much?"