"With all my heart, signor; but what will you do? My daughter is descended from an illustrious house; she must live in the world in a manner to do honor to her birth; as her father, I have duties to fulfil which I cannot disregard."
"Poor Geronimo!" said the Signor Deodati, in a tone of compassion, and with a deep sigh. "You would accuse me of cruelty, would you not? and this lovely young girl would hate the old man for his insensibility. It was not for that I crossed the seas in my old age."
He reflected a few minutes, then extending his hand to Mr. Van de Werve, he said: "My lord, I wish to show my good-will. I accept entirely your conditions, and in recompense for my sacrifices I ask only your friendship. Shall our children then be happy?"
Mr. Van de Werve grasped cordially the hand which was extended to him, and said to his daughter: "Mary, embrace this good gentleman; he will be your second father."
Mary cast herself into the arms of the old man; a cry of joy escaped the lips of Geronimo; even the sailors, although they comprehended but little of what they saw, were touched.
Whilst they were yet exchanging felicitations, the gondola swept around the point of land which had concealed the city from view, and Antwerp, with its thousand vessels, its lofty spires and noble edifices, lay spread out in all its majestic beauty before the eyes of Signor Deodati.
A cry of admiration burst from his lips.
"O che bella citta! What a beautiful city!" he exclaimed.
"What is that magnificent tower, which like sculptured lace lifts its beautiful spire proudly to heaven, and like a giant looks down upon all others? What are those singular buildings whose rounded cupolas and pointed roofs so far exceed in height the surrounding houses? Oh! let the gondola float with the current; your city enchants me, and I wish to enjoy the view for a few moments."
Mr. Van de Werve gratified the curiosity of the Italian gentleman by pointing out to him the most remarkable buildings of the city, saying: "Before you now is the new city constructed at his own expense by Gillibert de Schoonbeke—a man to whom Antwerp owes its later increase and the creation of countless streets and houses.[9] Those large and massive towers, in which you may notice loopholes, and which stand immediately upon the Scheldt, were the ancient fortifications of the city. That small, graceful spire is the Convent of Faucon; it is called here, Our Lady of Valkenbroek. Yonder, near the river, is the church of Borgt, the oldest temple of our city; for in 642 a wooden chapel stood on the spot, and in 1249 it was consecrated as a parish church, just as it now is.[10] That lofty edifice at the foot of the gigantic tower of Notre Dame is the entrepôt of Spain. Every nation has its own manufactories and magazines, where every one may claim the protection of his flag. The massive, unfinished tower belongs to the church of Saint James; the original plan was to elevate it above the spire of Notre Dame, but the work has been long discontinued for want of funds. Do you see, a little further on, that square building surmounted by a dome? It is the palace of Fugger, the Croesus of our times: he was elevated to the nobility by Maximilian on account of his wealth. Furnishing money to kings and nations, he sees gold daily pouring into his coffers, and if God does not interfere, the royal power will bow before that of the opulent banker. On the right you have the church of Saint Andrew, and near it the convent of Saint Michael, where our Emperor Charles stays when he visits his good city of Antwerp."[11]