[Solar-forossi] is welcome to our Venetian spo

[Cochell Alquicira]

Ter or the summer

cell--chilling or scorching as the
season might be--struggling to be cheerful, that the falsely accused
might not feel a greater weight of misery. Oh! venerable and kind
prince, you little
know the burden that the feeble are often made to carry, for to you
life

has been sunshine; but there are millions who are condemned to do
that they loathe, that they may not do that they dread." "Child, thou
tell'st me nothing new." "Except in convincing you, Highness,

that Jacopo is not the monster they would have him.
I do not know the secret reasons of the councils for
wishing the youth to lend himself to a deception that had nigh proved
so fatal; but all is explained, we have naught now to fear. Come,
father; we will leave the
good and just Doge to go to rest, as suits his years, and we will
return to gladden the heart
of Jacopo with our success,
and thank the
blessed Maria
for her favor." "Stay!" exclaimed the half-stifled old man. "Is this
true that thou tellest me,
girl:--Father,
can it be so!" "Signore, I have said all that
truth and my conscience
have prompted." The prince seemed bewildered, turning his look from
the motionless girl to the equally immovable member of the Three.
"Come hither, child,"

he said, his voice trembling as he spoke. "Come hither, that I may
bless thee." Gelsomina sprang forward, and knelt at the feet
of her sovereign. Father Anselmo never uttered a clearer or more
fervent benediction than that which fell from
the lips of the Prince of Venice. He raised the daughter of the
prison-keeper, and motioned for
both his visitors to
withdraw. Gelsomina willingly complied, for her heart was already in
the
cell of Jacopo, in the eagerness
to communicate her success; but the Carmelite lingered to cast a look
behind, like one better acquainted with the effects
of worldly policy, when connected
with the interests of those who pervert governments to the advantage
of the privileged. As he passed through the door, however, he felt
his hopes revive, for he saw the aged prince, unable any longer to
suppress
his feelings, hastening towards his still silent companion, with both
hands extended, eyes moistening with tears, and a look that betrayed
the emotions of one anxious
to find relief in human sympathies. CHAPTER XXXI.
"On--on-- It Is our knell, or that of Venice.
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