"What is it men say, that thou treatest me thus?" demanded Jacopo, in a low, struggling voice.
"I would they said untruth! But few die by violence, in Venice, that thy name is not uttered."
"And would they suffer one thus marked to go openly on the canals, or to be at large in the great square of San Marco?"
"We never know the reasons of the senate. Some say thy time is not yet come, while others think thou art too powerful for judgment."
"Thou dost equal credit to the justice and the activity of the inquisition. But should I go with thee to-night, wilt thou be more discreet in speech among thy fellows of the Lido, and the islands?"
"When the heart hath its load, the tongue will strive to lighten it. I would do anything to turn the child of my friend from his evil ways, but forget my own. Thou art used to deal with the patricians, Jacopo; would there be possibility for one, clad in this dress, and with a face blackened by the sun, to come to speak with the Doge?"
"There is no lack of seeming justice in Venice, Antonio; the want is in the substance. I doubt not thou would'st be heard."
"Then will I wait, here, upon the stones of the square, until he comes forth for the pomp of to-morrow, and try to move his heart to justice. He is old, like myself, and he hath bled, too, for the state, and what is more he is a father."
"So is the Signor Gradenigo."
"Thou doubtest his pity—ha?"