“Sometimes my master has given me money for a beaker, or a plate, or a bottle,” answered Zorzi, in some trepidation, for this was the main point.  “But the things were then his own.  How could that do harm to any one, since no one can make what I can make, for the master’s own use?  And once, the other day, as the Signor Giovanni’s letter says there, he persuaded me to take his piece of gold for a beaker he saw in my hand, and I said that I would ask the master, when he came back, whether I might keep the money or not; and besides, I left the piece of money on the table in my master’s laboratory, and the beaker in the annealing oven, when they came to arrest me.  That is the only work for which I ever took money, except from the master himself.”

“Why did the Greek captain Aristarchi beat the Governor’s men, and carry you away?” asked another of the Chiefs.

Zorzi was not surprised that the name of his rescuer should be known, for the Ten were believed to possess universal intelligence.

“I do not know,” he answered quite simply.  “He did not tell me, while he kept me with him.  I had only seen him once before that night, on a day when he came to treat with the master for a cargo of glass which he never bought.  I gave myself up to the archers, as I gave myself up to your lordships, for I thought that I should have justice the sooner if I sought it instead of trying to escape from it.”

“Your Highness,” said one of the oldest Councillors, addressing the Doge, “is it not a pity that such a man as this, who is a good artist and who speaks the truth, should be driven out of Venice, by a law that was not meant to touch him?  For indeed, the law exists and always will, but it is meant to hinder strangers from coming to Murano and learning the art in order to take it away with them, and this we can prevent.  But we surely desire to keep here all those who know how to practise it, for the greater advantage of our commerce with other nations.”

“That is the intention of our laws,” assented the Doge.

“Your Highness!  My lords!” cried Zorzi, who had taken courage from what the Councillor had said, “if this law is not made for such as I am, I entreat you to grant me your forgiveness if I have broken it, and make it impossible for me to break it again.  My lords, you have the power to do what I ask.  I beseech you that I may be permitted to work at my art as if I were a Venetian, and even to keep fires in a small furnace of my own, as other workmen may when they have saved money, that I may labour to the honour of all glass-makers, and for the good reputation of Murano.  This is what I most humbly ask, imploring that it may be granted to me, but always according to your good pleasure.”

When he had spoken thus, asking all that was left for him to desire and amazed at his own boldness, he was silent, and the Councillors began to discuss the question among themselves.  At a sign from the Chiefs the urn into which the votes were cast was brought and set before the Doge; for all was decided by ballot with coloured balls, and no man knew how his neighbour voted.