But it was the young Giustinian who answered to the challenge--"Marina
Magagnati!" with an unconscious reverence, as he confessed his lady's
name.

"Is no face found fair enough among all the palaces on the Canal Grande
to charm thy fastidious fancy?" cried the angry father, losing all
self-control. "It were fitter that the name of thine inamorata were
first declared elsewhere than in this presence!"

"Not so, my father," Marcantonio replied, undaunted. "For I first would
ask a grace of our most illustrious Signoria,--the which may it indeed
please them to grant,--or never shall I bring a bride to the Ca'
Giustiniani. As I have sworn a noble's oath of allegiance to Venice, so
faithfully have I vowed to wed none other than Marina Magagnati! And it
is my father who hath taught me to hold sacred the faith of a Venetian
and a Giustinian. But my lady is not _called_ of noble blood."

"She is daughter to Messer Girolamo Magagnati,"--it was the Veronese who
spoke,--"than whom, in all Murano, is none better reputed for the
fabrics of his stabilimento, nor more noble in his bearing; albeit, he
is of the people--as I also, Paolo Cagliari, am of the people."

The words had a ring of scorn; the Veronese folded his arms again and
looked defiantly around him--a splendid figure, with the jeweled orders
of France and Rome and the Republic flashing on his breast. His gaze
slowly swept the faces of the assembly, then returned to rest upon the
great votive picture which filled the wall from end to end above the
Doge's throne--_his work_--like the glory of the ceiling, which declared
the artist noble by genius, if not by birth. "I also am of the people!"