It May Be You Are Bound For The
Rialto; Or For The Bridge Of Sighs, Which Is Chiefly Distinguished
From All The Other Bridges By Being The Only Covered One In The
Lot; Or For The House Of The Lady Desdemona.
The lady Desdemona
never lived there or anywhere else, but the house where she would
have lived, had she lived, is on exhibition daily from nine to
five, admission one lira.
Or perchance you want to visit one of
the ducal palaces that are so numerous in Venice. These palaces
are still tenanted by the descendants of the original proprietors;
one family has perhaps been living in one palace three or four
hundred years. But now the family inhabits the top floor, doing
light housekeeping up there, and the lower floor, where the art
treasures, the tapestries and the family relics are, is in charge
of a caretaker, who collects at the door and then leads you through.
Having given the boatman explicit directions you settle back in
your cushion seat to enjoy the trip. You marvel how he, standing
at the stern, with his single oar fitted into a shallow notch of
his steering post, propels the craft so swiftly and guides it so
surely by those short, twisting strokes of his. Really, you
reflect, it is rowing by shorthand. You are feasting your eyes
on the wonderful color effects and the groupings that so enthuse
the artist, and which he generally manages to botch and boggle
when he seeks to commit them to canvas; and betweenwhiles you are
wondering why all the despondent cats in Venice should have picked
out the Grand Canal as the most suitable place in which to commit
suicide, when - bump!
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