“She is daughter to Messer Girolamo Magagnati,”—­it was the Veronese who spoke,—­“than whom, in all Murano, is none better reputed for the fabrics of his stabilimento, nor more noble in his bearing; albeit, he is of the people—­as I also, Paolo Cagliari, am of the people.”

The words had a ring of scorn; the Veronese folded his arms again and looked defiantly around him—­a splendid figure, with the jeweled orders of France and Rome and the Republic flashing on his breast.  His gaze slowly swept the faces of the assembly, then returned to rest upon the great votive picture which filled the wall from end to end above the Doge’s throne—­his work—­like the glory of the ceiling, which declared the artist noble by genius, if not by birth.  “I also am of the people!” he repeated, in a tone that seemed a challenge.

“Most Illustrious Signoria!” cried Marcantonio; “once, in the history of our Republic, hath it pleased this most gracious Senate to declare its favor to a daughter of a master-worker of Murano, in a decree whereby it was provided that the maid should wed a noble of most ancient house, and if there should be children of the marriage, each name should stand unprejudiced, with those of the nobles of Venice, in the ‘Libro d’Oro.’  If I have found favor in your sight—­I beseech you—­that which the Senate hath once decreed is again possible.”

The senators looked at each other in consternation, awed at the boldness of the petition and the wit of its presentation.

The young patrician slowly ascended the steps of the dais, and closed his appeal with an obeisance to the Doge, full of dignity.

The Councillors who sat beside the Doge were holding grave discussion, for the few words of the young noble had touched upon weighty points; they had been presented with a simplicity which veiled their diplomatic force; he was a man of growing power who must be bound to the service of Venice, even were he not the last of a princely line which the Republic would fain see continued to her own latest generation.  So unabashed in such a presence, he would be tenacious of his purpose and hold to his vow with unflinching knightliness.

Venice and his lady were included in his sworn allegiance, and to seek to make them rivals would be a danger for the Republic.

Never before had appeal been made to this decree; it was not fresh in the minds of the Savii and the six most venerated Councillors without whose acquiescence the mandate of the Doge was powerless, and they had listened to the bold declaration with a surprise not unmingled with resentment, that so young a man should make, in their presence, an assertion touching matters of State which they could neither affirm nor deny!  At a sign from one of the chancellors, one of the three counsellors at law of the Avvogadori di Commun, who had the keeping of the Golden Book, had been immediately summoned from adjoining chambers in the Palace and had confirmed the statement.  Such a marriage had indeed taken place in the latter half of the fourteenth century; the number of the decree authorizing the full nobility of the children had been noted in the Golden Book, the original decree could therefore be found, within the archives, upon demand of the Savii.