The next morning everything in Venice seemed as tranquil as if
nothing more than ordinary was on the point of taking place; and
yet, since her first foundation, never had a more important day
risen on the Republic.
The inhabitants of the ducal palace were in motion early. The
impatient Andreas forsook the couch on which he had passed a
sleepless and anxious night, as soon as the first sunbeams
penetrated through the lattice of his chamber. Rosabella had
employed the hours of rest in dreams of Flodoardo, and she still
seemed to be dreaming of him, even after sleep was fled. Camilla's
love for her fair pupil had broken her repose; she loved Rosabella
as had she been her daughter, and was aware that on this interesting
day depended the love-sick girl's whole future happiness. For some
time Rosabella was unusually gay; she sang to her harp the most
lively airs, and jested with Camilla for looking so serious and so
uneasy; but when mid-day approached, her spirits began to forsake
her. She quitted her instrument, and paced the chamber with
unsteady steps. With every succeeding hour her heart palpitated
with greater pain and violence, and she trembled in expectation of
the scene which was soon to take place.
The most illustrious persons in Venice already filled her uncle's
palace; the afternoon so much dreaded, and yet so much desired, was
come; and the Doge now desired Camilla to conduct his niece to the
great saloon, where she was expected with impatience by all those
who were of most consequence in the Republic.
Rosabella sank on her knees before a statue of the Virgin. "Blessed
Lady!" she exclaimed, with lifted hands, "have mercy on me! Let all
to-day end well!"
Pale as death did she enter the chamber in which, on the day before,
she had acknowledged her love for Flodoardo, and Flodoardo had sworn
to risk his life to obtain her. Flodoardo was not yet arrived.
The assembly was brilliant, the conversation was gay. They talked
over the politics of the day, and discussed the various occurrences
of Europe. The Cardinal and Contarino were engaged in a conference
with the Doge, while Memmo, Parozzi, and Falieri stood silent
together, and revolved the project whose execution was to take place
at midnight.
The weather was dark and tempestuous. The wind roared among the
waters of the canal, and the vanes of the palace-towers creaked
shrilly and discordantly. One storm of rain followed hard upon
another.
The clock struck four. The cheeks of Rosabella, if possible, became
paler than before. Andreas whispered something to his chamberlain.
In a few minutes the tread of armed men seemed approaching the doors
of the saloon, and soon after the clattering of weapons was heard.