The Serapion Brethren, Vol. I.

by E. T. A. Hoffmann

"The Doge hastened to the room indicated. Luigia opened to his loud knocking, and when she saw her master's face glowing with anger, and his eyes flashing fire, she fell on her knees and confessed her fault, as to which an elegant pair of gentleman's gloves on a chair (their perfume of ambergris betrayed their owner) left no room for doubt. Much irritated at Steno's atrocious licentiousness, the Doge wrote to him next morning, commanding him to avoid all approach to the palace and the Dogaressa, on pain of banishment. Steno was furious at the miscarriage of his deep-laid plot, and the shame of banishment from his idol. And as he could not but see, from his enforced distance, that the Dogaressa spoke gently and courteously (as was her nature) with other young members of the Signoria, his envy and the wicked violence of his passion made him think that she had refused to listen to him because others had been before him, with better fortune. He had the effrontery to speak of this loudly and in public.

"'Whether it was that old Falieri heard of these shameless sayings, that the remembrance of that night came to him in the guise of a warning hint of destiny, or that, whilst fully convinced of his lady's uprightness, and while savouring to the full all the comfort and happiness falling to his share, he nevertheless saw, in a clear light, the extent of the danger arising from the unnatural relations between them, the fact was that he became sullen and irritable. All the thousand demons of jealousy tortured him sorely. He shut Annunziata up in the inner chambers, and nobody was allowed to see her. Bodoeri took his grandniece's part, and took Falieri soundly to task. But he would hear of no alteration in his system of conduct.

"'All this happened shortly before Giovedi Grasso. Now it was the custom that, on that great Festa, which the populace celebrated on the Piazza di San Marco, the Dogaressa sat beside the Doge under a canopy erected over one of the lesser galleries overlooking the Piazza. Bodoeri reminded him of this, and thought and urged that if he excluded Annunziata from taking her part in this ceremony, against all use and wont, it would be in very bad taste, and he would be much ridiculed by both Signoria and populace for his preposterous jealousy.

"'Old Falieri's sense of honour suddenly woke up. "Think you," he said, "that I am such an idiotic old fool as to hesitate to shew my precious jewel, lest I should not be able to keep thievish hands at bay with my good sword? No, old lord, you are mistaken. To-morrow I and Annunziata shall cross the Piazza di San Marco, in habits of ceremony; the people shall see their Dogaressa; and on Giovedi Grasso she shall receive from the hands of the daring gondolier who lowers himself down to her through the air the flowers which it is the custom she should so accept."

"'The old custom which the Doge was alluding to was that, on Giovedi Grasso, some daring man of the people ascended, by ropes extending from the water to the top of the tower of San Marco, in a machine in the form of a little ship, and then shot down, with the speed of an arrow, to where the Doge and Dogaressa were seated, and handed her a bouquet of flowers. If the Doge were alone, it was handed to him.

"'Next day the Doge did as he had said he would. Annunziata had to put on her most gorgeous robes of state and pass, with Falieri, escorted by the Signoria, and attended by guards and pages of honour, across the crowded Piazza di San Marco. People shoved and crowded their lives out almost to get a glance at the beautiful Dogaressa, and, when they saw her, they thought they had been in Paradise, and beheld the loveliest of all the angels therein. According to the nature of the Venetians, amid all the wildest outbreaks of the maddest delight, plenty of facetious and jocular sayings and rhymes were to be heard, touching outspokenly enough on the theme of the old Falieri and his young wife. He seemed to pay no heed to them, however, pacing along as pathetically as you please at Annunziata's side, divested, for the time, of all jealousy (although he saw glances of burning admiration bent upon her on every side), every feature of his face smirking and smiling with complacency. Before the principal gate of the palace the guards had some difficulty in dividing the crowd, so that when the Doge passed in with his consort there were only small groups standing about of the better dressed citizens, whom it was not so easy to keep out of the inner court. And, at the moment when the Dogaressa entered this inner court, a young man, who was standing there in the pillared passage, with a few other persons, suddenly cried, "Oh, Thou God of Heaven!" and fell down senseless on the marble pavement. Everybody rushed up and surrounded him, so that the Dogaressa could not see him. But when he fell, a glowing dagger-thrust went through her heart; she turned pale, and tottered; and nothing but the scent bottles of the women who hurried up to her prevented her from fainting. Old Falieri, shocked and terrified, wished the young man in question, and this attack of his, at the devil, and helped his Annunziata--hanging her head, with closed eyes, over her breast, like a wounded dove--up the stairway, into the inner chamber.

"'Meanwhile a strange sight was seen by those of the crowd who had crushed into the inner court of the palace. The young man (who was supposed to be dead) was about to be carried away, when an old, hideous beggar-woman, in rags, came hobbling up with loud outcries of sorrow, elbowed a passage for herself through the thickest of the crowd, and, on reaching the young man, who was lying insensible, cried--

"'"Let him alone, you fools! let him alone! He is not dead." She cowered down, took his head into her lap, and stroked his brow, calling him by the fondest names.

"At sight of the horrible, hideous face of the old hag bending over the beautiful features of the young man, which seemed to be petrified in death (whereas a repulsive muscular twitching played over hers); her dirty rags fluttering above the handsome dress which he had on; her withered, brown-yellow arms trembling about his brow and his bared bosom, everyone thrilled with an inward horror. It seemed as though he was lying in the arms of the grinning form of Death itself. The people who were standing round crept, one by one, away, and but a very few were left when at length he opened his eyes with a deep sigh. At the old woman's request they carried him to the Grand Canal, where he was placed in a gondola, and, with the old woman, conveyed across the water to the house which she indicated as his dwelling.

"'I need not explain to you that the young man was Antonio, and the old woman the beggar who said she was his old nurse.