The Romantic
Character Of The Place Delighted Me; I Was Very Much Amused By The Air
Of Adventure And Intrigue That Prevailed In This Region Of Masks And
Gondolas; And I Was Exceedingly Smitten By A Pair Of Languishing Black
Eyes, That Played Upon My Heart From Under An Italian Mantle.
So I
persuaded myself that I was lingering at Venice to study men and
manners.
At least I persuaded my friends so, and that answered all my
purpose. Indeed, I was a little prone to be struck by peculiarities in
character and conduct, and my imagination was so full of romantic
associations with Italy, that I was always on the lookout for
adventure.
Every thing chimed in with such a humor in this old mermaid of a city.
My suite of apartments were in a proud, melancholy palace on the grand
canal, formerly the residence of a Magnifico, and sumptuous with the
traces of decayed grandeur. My gondolier was one of the shrewdest of
his class, active, merry, intelligent, and, like his brethren, secret
as the grave; that is to say, secret to all the world except his
master. I had not had him a week before he put me behind all the
curtains in Venice. I liked the silence and mystery of the place, and
when I sometimes saw from my window a black gondola gliding
mysteriously along in the dusk of the evening, with nothing visible but
its little glimmering lantern, I would jump into my own zenduletto, and
give a signal for pursuit.
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