Council, their master, of which this banquet is only the precursor. "For
of course there will be a _sposalizia_! Santa Maria! there is no room on
the Canal Grande for the gondolas that come to the palazzo--from every
_casa_ in the 'Libro d'Oro'--to win the favor of the donna nobile of the
Giustiniani, for some bella donzella who shall be chosen for their young
master--who is like a prince, and will end one day in being Doge! Santa
Maria di Castello, he does not wait that day to scatter his golden
coins!"

If that question of "sposalizia" is not imminent there is truth enough
for any Venetian conscience in the story of the ranks of princely
gondolas at the bend of the Canal Grande, on the days when the donna
nobile of the Giustiniani gives welcome to her guests--princely gondolas
they are, with _felzes_ of brocaded and embroidered stuffs, the
framework inlaid with ivory and mother of pearl, with metal fittings
curiously wrought, and all that bravery of pomp so dear to the Venetian
heart, which calls forth surly decrees from those stern Signori of the
Council--the much unloved "Provveditori alle Pompe," the sumptuary
officers of this superb Republic.

Meanwhile, in this narrow water-street, sunk a few feet below the paved
foot path that stretches to the doors of the dwellings, there are sudden
grumbling movements among the retainers of the patrician families, as
they steer their gorgeous gondolas from side to side, to avoid
humiliating contact with that slow procession of barges bringing produce
from the island gardens of Mazzorbo, there are other barges laden with
great, white wooden tubs of water from Fusina, fresh and very needful to
these cities of the sea, and the dark hulks of barks curiously entangled
with nets and masts and unwieldy tackle of sailor and fisher, show
flashes of brilliant color as the water plays through the netted baskets