The real concession—­the only one—­was in the case of the ecclesiastical prisoners—­the Abbot of Nervessa and the Canon of Vicenza—­whom his Holiness persisted in claiming.  But Monsieur du Fresne, the French Ambassador, suggested that the Republic should, “without prejudice to her right of jurisdiction over criminal ecclesiastics,” give these prisoners to the ambassador as a mark of special favor to his king, the mediator, who might then consign them to the Pope if he chose—­they being his to deal with.

Venice, with her powers of subtle reasoning, gladly embraced this way out of the difficulty which had first appeared insuperable.  “So to give them,” she said, appeased, “confirms rather than questions our authority, since no one may ‘give’ to another that over which he exercises no dominion.”

It was not Venice, but France, who was to request that the interdict be withdrawn, that she might not seem to other nations to be under the ban; for the Republic did not acknowledge that this condition of disfavor had gone into effect; she could not therefore personally request the Pope to change an attitude which put only himself in the wrong.  But when there was a hint of “absolution,” which the cardinal in his zeal would also ask the Holy Father to pronounce, Venice was silent from displeasure.  She had done no wrong; she would neither ask nor accept absolution.

The Senate might indeed be weary of these interminable discussions and unending compliments, and glad of a respite in which to turn to other matters.  But there were no idle hours in that august assembly, though it might chance that some whimsical phase of statesmanship lightened, by way of entr’acte, the severity of their deliberations.  They were, possibly, not unpleasantly aware of the irony of the situation when a letter from their governor in Constantinople announced “the extreme solicitude of the Turkish Government for the life and welfare of the Holy Father,” who had so furthered their interests by widely inciting discord among the nations of Christianity that, seeing therein a mark of the special favor of Allah, the sultan had ordered prayers and processions for the continued welfare of his Holiness!

The singular jealousy of the Venetians for the solidarity of their government, with their no less singular jealousy of individual aggrandizement, together with the rare perception of mental characteristics that was fostered by the daily culture of the councils in which every noble took his part, led them constantly to ignore their selfish hopes in order to choose the right man for the place.  These sentiments, acting and reacting upon each other, had secured their political prosperity; but a disaffection was beginning to make itself felt in the Senate which led ultimately to over-limitations of power and such multiplied checks and suspicions that noble living and wise ruling became impossible.

It was a time of suppressed excitement, and there had been a grave discussion as to the growing power of the Ten, against which some of the senators had dared to express themselves openly; for many of these strong men were beginning to feel that their government weighed upon them like a Fate, crushing all liberty and individuality; and of secret trials without defense there were tragic memories haunting the annals of that grave tribunal.