sked in surprise--"Why art thou
here?"

"I come to try my gondola's swiftness."

"Thou art old, and unequal to this struggle; husband thy strength for
daily toil. An ill-advised ambition hath put thee on this useless
trial."

The new aspirant had forced a common fisherman's gondola, of no bad
shape, and of sufficient lightness, but which bore about it all the
vulgar signs of its daily uses, beneath the gallery of the Bucentaur. He
received the reproof meekly, and was about to turn his boat aside,
though with a sorrowing and mortified eye, when a sign from the Doge
arrested his arm.

"Question him, as of wont," said the prince.

"How art thou named?" continued the reluctant official, who, like all of
subordinate condition, had far more jealousy of the dignity of the
sports he directed, than his superior.

"I am known as Antonio, a fisherman of the Lagunes."

"Thou art old!"

"Signore, none know it better than I. It is sixty summers since I first
threw net or line into the water."

"Nor art thou clad as befitteth one who cometh before the state of
Venice in a regatta."

"I am here in the best that I have. Let them who would do the nobles
greater honor, come in better."

"Thy limbs are uncovered--thy bosom bare--thy sinews feeble--go to; thou
art ill advised to interrupt the pleasures of the nobles by this
levity."

Again Antonio would have shrunk from the ten thousand eyes that shone
upon him, when the calm voice of the Doge once more came to his aid.

"The struggle is open to all," said the sovereign; "still I would advise
the poor and aged man to take counsel; give him silver, for want urges
him to this hopeless trial."

"Thou hearest; alms are offered thee; but give place to those who are
stronger and more seemly for the sport."

"I will obey, as is the duty of one born and accustomed to poverty. They
said the race was open to all, and I crave the pardon of the nobles,
since I meant to do them no dishonor."

"Justice in the palace, and justice on the canals," hastily observed the
prince. "If he will continue, it is his right. It is the pride of St.
Mark that his balances are held with an even hand."

A murmur of applause succeeded the specious sentiment, for the powerful
rarely affect the noble attribute of justice, however limited may be its
exercise, without their words finding an echo in the tongues of the
selfish.

"Thou hearest--His Highness, who is the voice of a mighty state, says
thou