y the port of the Lido many a royal pageant had entered into Venice,
but never before had such a procession started from the shores of
Murano; it made one feel fete-like only to see the _bissoni_, those
great boats with twelve oars, each from a stabilimento of Murano,
wreathed for the fete, each merchant master at its head, robed in his
long, black, fur-trimmed gown and wearing his heavy golden chain, the
workmen tossing blossoms back over the water to greet the bride, the
rowers chanting in cadence to their motion:

"Belina sei, e'l ciel te benedissa,
Che in dove che ti passi l'erba nasse!"[5]

[5] Beautiful thou art, and may Heaven bless thee,
So that in thy footprints the grass shall spring.

A cry rang down the Canal Grande from the gondoliers of the Ca'
Giustiniani, who were waiting this sign to start their own train from
the palazzo; for the bridal gondolas were coming in sight, with _felzi_
of damask, rose, and blue, embroidered with emblems of the Giustiniani,
bearing the noble maidens who had been chosen for the household of the
Lady Marina, each flower-like and charming under her gauzy veil of
tenderest coloring. It was indeed a rare vision to the populace, these
young patrician beauties whose faces never, save in most exceptional
fetes, had been seen unveiled beyond their mother's drawing-rooms,
floating toward them in a diaphanous mist which turned their living
loveliness into a dream.

The shout of the Giustiniani was echoed from gondola to gondola of the
waiting throng, from the gondoliers of all the nobles who followed in
their wake, from the housetops, the balconies, the fondamenta, mingled
with the words of the favorite folk-song:

"Belo ze el mare, e bela la marina!"[6]

[6] Beautiful is the sea, and beautiful the marsh.

It was like a fairy dream as the bridal procession came floating toward
San Marco, in the brilliant golden sunshine, between the blue of the
cloudless sky and the blue of the mirroring sea, each gondola garlanded
with roses, its silver dolphins flashing in the light, and in the midst
of them the bark that bore the bride. The stately pall of snowy damask,
fringed with silver, swept almost to the water's breast, behind the
felze of azure velvet, where, beside her father, sat the bride, in robe
of brocaded silver shimmering like the sea--a subtle perfume of orange
blossoms heralding her advance.

Once more the shout went up--the quaint love-song of the people--