The Royal Pawn of Venice Part 1

The Royal p.a.w.n of Venice.

by Mrs. Lawrence Turnbull.

I

Among the day-dreams of the Rulers of Venice the island of Cyprus had long loomed large and fair--Cyprus, the happy isle of romance, _l'isola fortunata_, sea-girdled, clothed with dense forests of precious woods, veined with inexhaustible mines of rich metals; a very garden of luscious fruits, garlanded with ever-blooming flowers--a land flowing with milk and honey and steeped in the fragrance of wines that a G.o.d might covet.

_Kypros_--_Paphos_--a theme for poets, where Aphrodite rose from the foam of the sea, and the fabled groves of the mysteries of Venus gave place to primitive shrines of Christian worship, while innumerable Grecian legends were merged in early Christian traditions, imparting some of their own tint of fable, yet baptizing anew the groves and hillsides to sanct.i.ty. Beautiful hillsides, rippling down to the sea-coasts; and plains, nestling among the mountain slopes, littered with remnants of vast temples of superb pagan workmanship and with priceless pre-historic remains: wonderful, ancient marbles, time-mellowed and crumbling, inwrought rather with barbaric symbols of splendor than with the tender grace of poetic suggestion.

And this land of many races and dynasties, of conflicting ideals and religions, as of many tongues--where domination was largely a matter of the stronger hand--still held among the nations her ancient soubriquet of _the happy isle_.

But less for her romance and beauty than because this _notissima famae insulae_ was a possession to be envied by a diplomatic nation, since its position lent it importance, the Republic had looked upon it with longing eyes--and because of its commerce, which equalled that of Venice, long ago the far-seeing Senate had sought to purchase it from the Greek Emperor, but the agreement had come to naught by treachery of the Emperor's son.

Nevertheless, Cyprus had not been forgotten; and the time for Venice to make good this remembrance had now come uppermost on the calendar of the years.

So they were ready to give rapt attention to the flattering proposals of the young Cyprian Monarch, as presented by his dignified amba.s.sador, the Signor Filippo Mastach.e.l.li, when he appeared before the Signoria with the retinue and splendor of an Eastern Prince, bearing gifts of jewels meet for a royal bride, to claim the hand of a patrician maid of Venice, to make her Queen of Cyprus.

Ja.n.u.s the Second was young and brave, the idol of a party of his people--and where was the kingdom in which there were known to be no discontents? He was upheld by the great Sultan of Egypt to whom he owed suzerainty and, if in disfavor of the Holy Father for this allegiance, Venice had always permitted Rome to question her own supremacy and was not disconcerted thereby. He was beautiful as a young G.o.d, with a face full of laughing appeal, and not less charming than the miniature set in crystals which Mastach.e.l.li bore among the wedding gifts; and the grace of him could not be matched, for his power of winning, when he had set his heart to the task. In whatever deed of skill and daring his prowess went before his knights and n.o.bles--as, from childhood up, in whatever teaching from books or men, he had distanced all his comrades--with that strange facility and fascination with which the Genius of Cyprus might have endowed her favorite in that lavish land, beloved of the G.o.ds, where her great sea-bound plains were billows of flowers under a long summer sky, and Nature's gifts came crowding, each upon each, in bewildering redundancy.

Laughter-loving, born to conquer, quick to reward, Ja.n.u.s was tender and generous to a fault; for it was whispered that he could take what lay nearest to give to those who offered him adoring service on his triumphal march, and that the murmur of the wronged belonged to the more serious side of life for which his full-flowing Greek blood had small patience. Such strange, unlikely tales one's enemy may tell!

And for his religion--be it Greek, or Latin, or whatever else--had he not been named Archbishop of Nikosia at the responsible age of fifteen, before he had exchanged the Episcopal Mitre for the Royal Crown?

These things were told, in all truth, of Ja.n.u.s II, King of Cyprus: and if some others were known, they were not discussed. For the monarch had lost his heart to the rare charm of the youthful Caterina, niece to a Venetian n.o.ble who had become his friend in Cyprus, and had more than once stood his helper with good Venetian gold; and who, in innocence or wile, had one day given him sight of the girl's fair face with its tender flush like a flower in spring, painted with rare skill by the greatest artist of Venice. The breeze might have toyed with that mist of golden hair, and the great dark eyes--softly luminous--had the expectancy of a gazelle awaiting the joy of the daydawn. She was daughter to one of the most ancient and n.o.ble of the patrician houses, in direct descent, so the Cornari claimed, of the Cornelii of Rome.

"There need be no haste," the Signor Andrea had said lightly, as he returned the miniature to its case blazoned in pearls with the arms of the Cornari, "for the child is but fourteen, though she hath the loveliness of twenty. But it is the way with our patricians of Venice, and Messer Marco of the Cornari, father to Caterina, is already planning with an ancient n.o.ble house of the elder branch with estates of unknown wealth, for the marriage of his daughter. Thus the fancy of the King must pa.s.s--there will be another--in Venice or Cyprus--the world is large."

"Nay, none so beautiful," the King made answer; "and for me none other.

And for the matter of birth----"

"Naught hindereth that she might be Queen," Messer Andrea replied with nonchalance, having a scheme somewhat more deeply laid than the casual dropping of the miniature would seem to imply. "For the matter of birth--it is a trifle--and doubtless the Republic would make her, by adoption, Daughter to Venice--if there were aught in a created t.i.tle to enhance her princely name with semblance of royalty. But there are already quarterings enough to match with the arms of Cyprus, and the Lusignans are a house far less ancient than the Cornelii."

Messer Andrea could say things with a certain facile grace that kept them from rankling, and at the moment the utterance of this truth was of consequence.

The King threw him a quick glance, half in amus.e.m.e.nt, half in admiration of his easy insolence, while Messer Andrea placidly explained that the Casa Cornaro was one of the twelve original families which composed the ancient ruling cla.s.s of the Republic.

"And if the matter hath an interest for your Majesty," he continued, "our great-grandfather on our father's side, was that Marco Cornaro who was Doge of Venice; and the most n.o.ble Lady Fiorenza, mother to the child Caterina and wife to my brother Marco, was grand-daughter to Comnene, Emperor of Trebizonde. But that counteth little," he added magnanimously; "since the Empire of Trebizonde hath ceased to be."

"For the matter of birth--verily, as thou hast said, 'it is a trifle,'"

the King admitted with a laugh: "but I must create thee Master to the Pedigree of the House of Lusignan--a right royal post--and at thy discretion thou mayest find or _make_ it of a color n.o.ble enough to mate with thy fair maid of Venice."

"It pleaseth your Majesty to be of a merry mood. And for the dowry----"

Thence followed this emba.s.sy to Venice, for Ja.n.u.s was of those who would bear no thwarting nor delay. The princely dowry was forthcoming, for it had been offered by Messer Andrea Cornaro himself, and the condition of adoption by the Republic, "that the bride might be of a station befitting the royal alliance," well became the pleasure of the dignified Signoria.

II

They had just told her a thing most strange--a secret that made her childish heart stand still with wonder, then beat with a sort of frightened excitement, all unbefitting the new dignity to which she was called; for she was still enough a child to feel the glamour of it through all the strangeness, and she had stolen out upon the balcony, high over the Ca.n.a.l, to say over to herself the words that had been confided to her--the little maid Caterina.

She dropped the t.i.tle softly down to the water below, and started at the echo of her own trembling voice.

_Caterina Queen of Cyprus_: Caterina--Regina!

A swaying figure in a pa.s.sing gondola glanced up to the balcony of the old Palazzo Cornaro and the young girl hastily fled, not pausing until she had reached her own little chamber, looking on an inner court--the only sanctuary that she could call her own, in all this great ancestral palace, she, the future Queen of Cyprus.

Had any one heard her murmur those words? Would the Senate know that some one in a gondola had caught the new t.i.tle from her own lips? And so--perchance--to punish the indiscretion--for the Senate was masterful, never-to-be-disobeyed, and the matter was not to be known until it should be declared by that solemn body of world-rulers. And if the gondoliero had carried her word to the Palazzo San Marco----? What if he had been sent there by the Senate itself to watch and see if she were already woman enough to be trusted? Then there would be an end to the golden dream--no coronation--no splendid ceremony of adoption. For there was more. Before she should be made queen of that distant island she was to be formally acknowledged "The Daughter of the Republic----" She was to be made a real Princess of Venice!

What wonder that the heart of this young Venetian maid quivered with the excitement of these visions of splendor, for by all the traditions of her ancestors she measured the unwonted honor that was being decreed for her--no one had yet been adopted "Daughter to the Republic"--the t.i.tle was to be created that she might wear a crown, to the further honor of Venice! For her, who had never worn a jewel, nor a robe of state, nor taken part in any but the simplest fete, who had never left the walls of her ancestral palace, save under closest veil and guard--this sudden vision of freedom and empire was intoxicating.

If she had known of those wonderful tales of the "Arabian Nights" these things that were happening to her would have seemed more wonderful still: but her young mind was free of similes--a sensitive blank whereon the Senate might duly inscribe whatever tendencies seemed judicious; and after the Betrothal there would be much time.

Caterina had taken courage again and stolen back to the balcony that opened upon the Ca.n.a.l Grande from the vast upper salon, impelled by her longing for freedom and light. The ripple of the water to the plash of pa.s.sing gondolas took on the note of distance and soothed her like a lullaby, as the charming maid yielded herself to the golden daydream--the soft breezes lifting the bright rings of hair that cl.u.s.tered about her dainty head, while the wonderful light of the skies of Venice smiled down upon her like a caress. The strangeness slipped away from the new facts she had been repeating to herself, for she had already begun to take pride in them; and the other questions that had troubled her for a moment, were forgotten. All kings were to her youthful imagination great and n.o.ble when they were the friends of the Republic, and Ja.n.u.s was the close ally of Venice. In this stately patrician household she had suddenly risen to be first--not only as all maids are wont to be on the eve of their betrothal, with much circ.u.mstance of laces and brocade and gifts and jewels--but she was to bring new honor to their ancient house--honor even upon Venice, for her father had declared that the Senators, the Councillors, all the great men of the Republic--the Serenissimo himself--would bring her homage. It was a dizzying dream of glory--beautiful, child-hearted and fancy-free, she could dream of no more golden vision than the Signoria were preparing for her.

So many generations of Cornari had gone forth from their palaces scattered through the great places of Venice, as amba.s.sadors on momentous missions, or as Senators or Savii, had instilled the lesson of the glory of service to Venice; and more than once the mighty Lion of San Marco had set his imperial seal above their portal, and she, Caterina, was to lead them all in the honor she was bringing upon her country! If her own estimate of the part she was to play was a foolish one, only a Venetian patrician maid could comprehend the glamour that overlay this vision of Caterina's--the royal delivery from bondage--the unknown delights it must open to her!

"Thou art sent for, _carina_, to the crimson salon; thy Father would speak with thee."

It was the Lady Fiorenza, who seemed always a little sad to Caterina--too sad for all the state that surrounded her; too grave to suit the splendor of her silken robes and gleaming jewels; too weak to cope with the masterful ways of her lord, the Senator Marco Cornaro. Her mother's hand almost crushed hers in the strenuous clasp which, strangely to Caterina, seemed to convey a pa.s.sionate message of sympathy; yet surely, at this radiant moment, there was nothing to regret! She met the love in her mother's eyes with the smile of a satisfied child, though she would have liked them all to rejoice with her.

The curtain that hung before the door of the crimson salon was raised by the page who stood in waiting. Her stately father rose to greet her--which he had never done before in all her little life. She felt with a sudden vague discomfort, that the world was changing for her.

"My daughter," he said, with a gravity of demeanor that befitted the importance of his message, "thou bringest honor, not alone to the Casa Cornaro, but also to the Republic. I have this day received from the island of Cyprus--of which thou shalt be Queen--" and he bent his knee, in courtly fashion before his child, as though he would be first to bring her homage, "by the hand of the amba.s.sador Mastach.e.l.li, this portrait of thy Lord, Ja.n.u.s, the King; and these Eastern pearls--a royal gift."

He kissed the little hand which Caterina eagerly stretched out for the casket; but her mother covered her face with her hands, almost in an att.i.tude of prayer.

The miniature was blazing with diamonds, and the pearls were more l.u.s.trous than any that had ever been seen in Venice--for Cyprus was even beyond Venetia in luxury; and Caterina called to her mother, with a note of triumph, to clasp them about her childish throat.

"I must learn to _look_ a Queen!" she said with a little, playful, regal air: and then she dropped her eyes upon the beautiful, laughing face of the royal lover who was to open paradise to her. Her father watched her furtively; while her mother, over her child's shoulder, studied the picture closely, feeling that it was too beautiful to trust.

"He is charming!" the girl cried in pleased surprise. She had not known what his face would be like; she had scarcely had time to think of it since the strange news had been brought her, a few hours before.

"He will be kind to thee," the mother said at length with conviction, yet with a sigh, as if dissatisfied.

Caterina meanwhile, in the simple straight blue robe of a young Venetian maiden, her dimpled throat encircled with the pearls that had been the ransom of a kingdom, stood turning her miniature from side to side, catching the sunlight on the jewels and the face, with the pleasure of a child in a new and splendid toy--for it was all beautiful together. "He is charming--charming, my King!" she repeated.

But a shadow had crept into her mother's eyes. "It is a face that an artist might paint for his pleasure," she said with hesitation, as if seeking expression for some vague fear that haunted her; "I pray that he may make thee happy, _carina_; that he may be good and--and--n.o.ble."

"'n.o.ble!'" cried Marco Cornaro, scornfully; "what seekest more? Is Cyprus not enough for thy n.o.bility? Is there another mother in Venice who doth not envy thee thy fortune! Go to thy tire-women and consult with them, for the Betrothal will be soon, by order of the Senate, and there is small time to waste in regrets that somewhat more to thy liking hath not befallen thee. See to it that the robing of Caterina be fit for that other kingdom thou wouldst, perchance, have chosen for her."

"If he be n.o.ble--truly n.o.ble," the Lady Fiorenza said with unwonted persistence--for something moved her to a.s.sert herself, "I ask no more."

But the Senator permitted her the questionable honor of unanswered speech, as he turned with a scowl and left her. For her word had rankled: since it was known, in the innermost circle of the Council and there discussed in strictest secrecy, that had Ja.n.u.s been born in Venice, the law would have excluded him from its _Libro d'Oro_, and no patrician father would have sought him for his daughter. But Cyprus lay far away beyond the sea which washed the borders of Venetia, and many of Oriental race had peopled its sh.o.r.es--the ideals of Venice might be no law for Cyprus.