Her eyes were full of the eagerness of her question. If they but knew all would be well, she thought; she had so wished for Marco to be there and hear them talk!
"Marina, this whole matter is a question for the government to decide; it is not for ecclesiastics to discuss—they know nothing of any laws but their own. This is a civil case."
"Would they not understand things better if they were allowed representation in the Senate?" she persisted. "And what is this law? And why is the subject not fit for Venetian nobles to discuss, since it touches them so nearly?" She was growing disturbed, for she feared some injustice, since Marco had not been indignant at the strange condition she had unfolded to him, and she had thought it must suffice only to name it to him.
The young patrician looked at her in amazement. Fra Paolo was indeed right, yet he had been almost indignant at the suggestion.
"The subject cannot be discussed," he said, in quick, hard tones, "because the Abbot of Nervessa hath committed crimes so atrocious that thou would'st shrink at the bare naming of them. And for Saraceni—the Canon of Vicenza—there came one day to the Senate a noble lady of Vicenza, young, and very beautiful, and in great trouble, casting herself at the feet of the Serenissimo, imploring protection from disgrace that the canon would bring upon her—a scandal I had never thought to name to thee. And there are other charges."
"It cannot be true!" she cried, flushed and trembling. "Dear Marco, they are priests!"
"The truth will be decided by the integrity of the law," he answered, severely; "they shall have justice at our courts; but it is a question for the civil courts, since the people also cry for justice, and the ecclesiastical law is not to deal with heinous civil offenses—though committed by one in priestly robes. It is a just law of Venice—ancient, and only now reaffirmed."
"This is the law they spake of, Marco?"
Now that she dimly understood there was some great trouble coming on the people, she must know the right at any cost—even that of her husband's displeasure; it was her duty to him, and she had put her question firmly.
"This—and another," he answered, unwillingly. "Listen, Marina, for I am weary of thy questions. The law to forbid new foundations of church or monastery, or the introduction of new religious orders without the sanction of the government—also an ancient law, and but now reaffirmed—is doubtless that of which they spake."