HAS THERE EVER BEEN SUCH A SIGHT IN THIS WORLD?
The Doge’s oarsmen rowed his vermilion galley from the Rialto, and a huge crowd gathered on the quay. We raised our arms and cheered as they anchored.
The prow of the Doge’s galley is made of iron and shaped like a dragon’s head with a gaping mouth, and the banner of Saint Mark tugs and cracks above it, and the bulwarks are plated with colorful shields painted with all seven tinctures.
The moment I saw them, I thought of the huge press of knights when Arthur pulled the sword from the stone…the shields on their surcoats, stitched with such a gamut of colors and devices.
The entire galley is painted vermilion—the ribs, the sterncastle, the landing skiffs and the oarsmen’s benches, even the oars, everything except the rudder and the mast and tackle.
Next to the mainmast there was a vermilion awning, made of samite, and under it I could see the Doge. He was wearing his white cotton cap stitched with the scarlet cross, and standing quite motionless, both arms outstretched. Like a victor. Like the crucified Christ.
There were priests in the middle story of the sterncastle, ten of them, maybe more, and they began to chant:
“Come, Holy Ghost, Creator come,
From Thy bright heavenly throne!
Come, take possession of our souls,
And make them all Thine Own!”
How can Marquis Boniface turn away from all this? After all these preparations, and all this time.
He has decided he must go to Rome, but even if the Holy Father does object to our sailing to Zara, what can he do? He can’t stop us now. Anyhow, we need the marquis with us. He’s our leader.
A hundred trumpeters stood up along the bulwarks. They raised their silver instruments and, behind them, dozens of musicians beat their tabors and drums.
We yelled, we roared, we howled!
Someone grabbed my right arm and started pulling me backwards. It was Bertie.
“Quick!” he panted. “Come on! I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“Why? What is it?”
“Quick!”
We barged and plunged our way through the cheering crowd, until we reached our galley.
“You’ve held everyone up,” Bertie gasped. “Milon says you’re to come aboard at once, or he’ll sail without you.”