“A thousand excuses, noble senator, but the coolness of the canals, and the gaiety of the square, together with some apprehension of intruding prematurely on time so precious, has, I fear, kept me out of season.  But I trust to the known goodness of the Signor Gradenigo for my apology.”

“The punctuality of the great lords of Lower Italy is not their greatest merit,” the Signor Gradenigo drily answered.  “The young esteem life so endless, that they take little heed of the minutes that escape them; while we, whom age begins to menace, think chiefly of repairing the omissions of youth.  In this manner, Signor Duca, does man sin and repent daily, until the opportunities of doing either are imperceptibly lost.  But we will not be more prodigal of the moments than there is need—­are we to hope for better views of the Spaniard?”

“I have neglected little that can move the mind of a reasonable man, and I have, in particular, laid before him the advantage of conciliating the senate’s esteem.”

“Therein have you done wisely, Signore, both as respects his interests and your own.  The senate is a liberal paymaster to him who serves it well, and a fearful enemy to those who do harm to the state.  I hope the matter of the succession draws near a conclusion?”

“I wish it were possible to say it did.  I urge the tribunal in all proper assiduity, omitting no duty of personal respect nor of private solicitation.  Padua has not a doctor more learned than he who presents my right to their wisdom, and yet the affair lingers like life in the hectic.  If I have not shown myself a worthy son of St. Mark, in this affair with the Spaniard, it is more from the want of a habit of managing political interests than from any want of zeal.”

“The scales of justice must be nicely balanced to hang so long, without determining to one side or the other!  You will have need of further assiduity, Don Camillo, and of great discretion in disposing the minds of the patricians in your favor.  It will be well to make your attachment to the state be observed by further service near the ambassador.  You are known to have his esteem, and counsel coming from such a quarter will enter deeply into his mind.  It should also quicken the exertions of so benevolent and generous a young spirit, to know that in serving his country, he also aids the cause of humanity.”

Don Camillo did not appear to be strongly impressed with the justice of the latter remark.  He bowed, however, in courtesy to his companion’s opinion.

“It is pleasant, Signore, to be thus persuaded,” he answered; “my kinsman of Castile is a man to hear reason, let it come from what quarter it may.  Though he meets my arguments with some allusions to the declining power of the Republic, I do not see less of deep respect for the influence of a state, that hath long made itself remarkable by its energy and will.”

“Venice is no longer what the City of the Isles hath been, Signer Duca; still she is not powerless.  The wings of our lion are a little clipped, but his leap is still far, and his teeth dangerous.  If the new-made prince would have his ducal coronet sit easily on his brow, he would do well to secure the esteem of his nearest neighbors.”