the upper portion of the Doge's palace, and are covered throughout
with lead.

My room had a large window with enormous bars, and commanded a view
of the roof (also of lead), and the church, of St. Mark. Beyond the
church I could discern the end of the Piazza in the distance, with
an immense number of cupolas and belfries on all sides. St. Mark's
gigantic Campanile was separated from me only by the length of the
church, and I could hear persons speaking from the top of it when
they talked at all loud. To the left of the church was to be seen a
portion of the grand court of the palace, and one of the chief
entrances. There is a public well in that part of the court, and
people were continually in the habit of going thither to draw water.
From the lofty site of my prison they appeared to me about the size
of little children, and I could not at all hear their conversation,
except when they called out very loud. Indeed, I found myself much
more solitary than I had been in the Milanese prisons.

During several days the anxiety I suffered from the criminal trial
appointed by the special commission, made me rather melancholy, and
it was increased, doubtless, by that painful feeling of deeper
solitude.

I was here, moreover, further removed from my family, of whom I
heard no more. The new faces that appeared wore a gloom at once
strange and appalling. Report had greatly exaggerated the struggle
of the Milanese and the rest of Italy to recover their independence;
it was doubted if I were not one of the most desperate promoters of
that mad enterprise. I found that my name, as a writer, was not
wholly unknown to my jailer, to his wife, and even his daughter,