“If the Pope, to enforce his commands—­unlawful when they exceed the authority given him by Christ—­fulminates his interdict, it is unjust and null; in spite of the reverence owed to the Holy See, it should not be obeyed.

“Seven times before hath Venice been so banned—­and never for anything that had to do with religion!”

Again that strange, slight, emphatic pause, as if he need wait but a moment for his reasoning to dissipate any conscious unwillingness.

The Contarini quoted low to his neighbor a recent bon mot of the Senate, “Everybody hath a window in his breast to Fra Paolo;” for several senators of families closely allied to Rome started at the boldness of the thought, and exchanged furtive glances of disapproval, and the fearless eye of the friar immediately fixed upon them, holding and quieting them as they moved restlessly to evade his glance.  It was as if he assured them silently, “I speak that I do know; cease to oppose truth; let yourselves believe.”  And resistance lessened before the impersonality of the pleader.

“One of the fathers tells us that an excommunication is null when it would usurp over citizens the right of their prince. ’By me kings reign and princes decree justice’—­it is the word of God.”

There was no need of further pauses in the quiet flow of words, for there was no longer any resistance; the Senate and Council hung breathless upon his speech, which answered every misgiving; they knew that his reading of canon law had never been questioned in Rome itself; the man spoke with immense authority.  But there was no triumph in his bearing as he tuned the atmosphere of that august assembly into absolute harmony, conquering every discordant note—­only a further lowering of the quiet voice, which seemed to utter, unchallenged, the conclusions of each listener.

“The Sacred Canons agree that a Pope is liable to error and fallible in cases of special judgment.

“Isaiah denounces such legislation, ’Woe unto them that decree unrighteous decrees.’

“Wherefore I declare the justice of the cause of the Republic, and the nullity of any judgment that may be pronounced against her in this matter.

“Nor shall evil befall one for a sin not committed, nor can there be disobedience to a mandate which hath been issued, without lawful authority, by him who proclaims it; and authority, transcended, is no longer lawful.”

XX

When Marcantonio, finally released from his long day of service in the Senate Chamber, sought the private apartments of the Doge, where Marina with her maidens was waiting for him, he found her lying back, wan and spiritless, in one of the great gold and crimson arm-chairs of the state salon; her eyes were closed, her lips were moving in prayer, but her rosary had dropped from her weak clasp.  Some of her maidens, as thus doing their lady truest service, were still kneeling with hopeless petitions to the Holy Mother to avert the doom from Venice; but one, the Lady Beata, who was tenderly devoted to her, had not ceased from efforts to rouse her with nameless little gracious cares.  She was watching for Marcantonio, to whom she signed eagerly to hasten, as the guard of the Doge permitted him to pass the doorway.