BLACKWOOD'S EDINBURGH MAGAZINE.
No. CCCXLII.
APRIL, 1844.
VOL. LV.
THE PIRATES OF SEGNA. A TALE OF VENICE AND THE ADRIATIC. IN TWO PARTS.
PART II. CHAPTER I. THE BATTLE or THE BRIDGE.
THE time occupied by the events detailed in the three preceding chap- ters, had been passed by Antonio in a state of self-exile from his master's studio. Conscious of having disobey- ed the earnest injunctions of Conta- rini, the weakness of his character withheld him alike from confessing his fault, and from encountering the pene- trating gaze of the old painter. Ne- glecting thus his usual occupation, he passed his days in his gondola, wan- dering about the canals in the hope of again meeting with the mysterious being who had made such an impres- sion on his excitable fancy. Hitherto all his researches had been fruitless ; but although day after day passed without his finding the smallest trace of her he sought, his repeated disap- pointments seemed only to increase the obstinacy with which he continued the search.
The incognita not only engrossed all his waking thoughts, but she still haunted him in his dreams. Scarcely a night passed that her wrinkled countenance did not hover round his pillow, now partially shrouded by the ample veil, then again fully exposed and apparently exulting in its un- earthly ugliness; or else peering at him from behind the drapery that covered the walls of his apartment. In vain did he attempt to address the vision, or to follow it as it gradually receded and finally melted away into distance.
YOL. LV. NO. CCCXLII.
It was from a dream of this de- scription that he was one morning awakened by his faithful gondolier Jacopo. The sun was shining brightly through his chamber windows, and he heard an unusual degree of noise and bustle upon the canal without.
" Up, Signer mio!" cried the gondo- lier joj^ously, and with a mixture of respect and affectionate familiarity in his tone and manner. " Up, Signer Antonio ! You were not wont to over- sleep yourself on the day of the Bridge Fight. All Venice is hastening thi- ther. Quick, quick ! or we shall never be able to make our way through the press of gondolas."
The words of the gondolier remind- ed Antonio that this was the day appointed for the celebration of a fes- tival, which for weeks past had been looked forward to with the greatest impatience and interest, by Venetians of all ranks, ages, and sexes ; a festi- val which he himself was in the habit of regularly attending-, though on this occasion his preoccupied thoughts and feelings had made him utterly unconscious that it was so near at hand.
Although the ancient and bitter hatred of the Guelphs and Ghibellines had died away, and the factions which divided northern Italy had sunk into insignificance, nearly a century before this period, the memory of their feuds was still kept up by their great grand- children, and Venice was still severed
