"'"Ah!" he cried angrily; "I want no more of your dark sayings, to tempt me with your unholy arts. My heart will break! You shall speak--or----"
"'"No, no," she pleaded, "don't threaten me! I am your nurse--your foster-mother----"
"'But, not waiting to hear further, Antonio rose and hurried quickly away. From a distance he called to her, "You shall have your new cloak, and zecchini into the bargain, as many as you like."
"'To see the old Doge Marino Falieri with his youthful consort was a wonderful sight enough. He, strong and robust enough, no doubt, but with his grey beard, and his bronzed red face covered with a thousand wrinkles, stepping pathetically along, keeping his head and neck erect with some difficulty; she, loveliness personified, an angelic expression of goodness and kindliness in her heavenly face, charm, irresistible in her longing eyes, nobleness and dignity on her open, lily forehead, shaded by the dark tresses, sweet smiles upon lips and cheeks, her little head bending in exquisite meekness; bearing her slender figure gracefully and lightsomely as she moved along--a beautiful creature, belonging to another, higher world. Yon know the type of angel which the old painters had the skill to imagine and represent. Such was Annunziata. No one who saw her could fail to be amazed and enraptured. The hearts of the fiery youths among the Signoria blazed up in brightest flame; each, as he surveyed the old man with mocking glances, vowed in his own breast to play the Mars to this Vulcan, at whatever cost. Annunziata was soon the centre of a group of adorers to whose flattering speeches she listened in courteous silence, without paying much heed to them, one way or another. Her angelic purity had suffered her to form no other conception of her relation to her aged, princely consort than to reverence him as her lord and master, and cleave to him with the unconditional faithfulness of a submissive handmaid. He was kind--nay, tender with her. He pressed her to his icy breast, called her fond names, gave her every sort of costly present; what more could she desire of him? what further claim had she upon him? The idea of being faithless to him could take no form within her. All that lay beyond the restricted circle of the relationship above set forth was a foreign region, whose forbidden boundaries lay shrouded in dark mist, unseen, undreamt of by this pure and pious child. All suit for her favour was fruitless. But none of her adorers was so violently fired by love for the beautiful Dogaressa as Michaele Steno. Young as he was, he held the important and influential position of a member of the Council of Forty. Building upon this, and upon his personal beauty, he was certain of victory. Of old Falieri he felt no fear. Indeed the latter seemed, as soon as he was married, to have wholly laid aside his fierce ebullient irritability and his rough untameable wildness of disposition. He would sit by the fair Annunziata's side, dressed out in the richest attire, smiling and smirking, appearing to ask people, with gentle glances of his grey eyes (to which the tears would often rise), if any of them could boast of such a wife. In place of his former domineering style of talking, he now spoke very gently, scarcely moving his lips, calling every one "Carissimo Mio," and granting the most preposterous petitions. Who would have recognized, in this tender, affectionate old man, that Falieri who, in Treviso, on the feast of Corpus Christi, smote the bishop on the face, in a rage--the conqueror of the formidable Morbassan? This ever-increasing gentleness stimulated Michaele Steno to the maddest undertakings. Annunziata had no comprehension of what Michaele--who persecuted and pursued her continually with words and glances--wanted of her. She maintained her uniform, gentle peacefulness; and the very hopelessness engendered by this constantly unchanging attitude of hers drove him to despair. He planned the vilest measures. He succeeded in establishing a love affair with Annunziata's most trusted lady-in-waiting, who at last allowed him to pay her nocturnal visits. He thought this was a paving of the way to Annunziata's own unprofaned chamber; but it was Heaven's will that this vileness should recoil on the head of him who devised it.
"It chanced, one night, that the Doge--who had just received the news of Nicolo Pisani's having been beaten in the engagement with Doria at Portelongo--was walking about the halls of the palace in much distress and anxiety, unable to sleep. He saw a shadow, apparently coming from Annunziata's chamber, creeping towards the staircase. He hastened up to it; it was Michaele Steno, coming from his inamorata. A terrible thought struck Falieri; with a cry of "Annunziata," he rushed at Steno with a naked stiletto. But Steno--stronger and more active than the old man--avoided the thrust, threw the Doge to the ground by a smart blow of his fist, and dashed down the steps, laughing aloud, and crying "Annunziata! Annunziata!" The old man raised himself, and made for Annunziata's chamber, with flames of hell in his heart. Everything there was silent as the grave. He knocked. A stranger lady-in-waiting--not the one who usually slept near Annunziata's room--opened the door.
"'"What are my princely consort's wishes at this late, unwonted hour of the night?" said Annunziata, in a calm, angelically sweet voice, as she came out, hurriedly attired in a light night-robe. The old man gazed hard at her--then raised his hands to heaven, and cried--
"'"No! It is impossible, it is impossible!"
"'"What is impossible, my lord?" she asked, amazed at the Doge's hollow, solemn accents. But Falieri, without answering her, turned to the lady-in-waiting--
"'"Why is it you are sleeping here to-night instead of Luigia?"
"'"Your Highness," the girl answered, "Luigia wished to exchange duties with me to-night; she is sleeping in the front chamber on the staircase."