In the shade of the acute disappointment occasioned by having reached Milan, only to find Colonel Fitzwilliam’s continued truancy, the scenes thenceforth were unlikely to yield consolation for the increasing pain of his absence, and Georgiana had been predictably miserable. Neither wishing to be a source of anxiety to her family, nor having any inclination herself for the heroic ambition of existing in a state of perpetual torment, she learnt instead to anticipate the pleasures of Venice. She found sympathy in contemplating the dark tones of that city, which coincided with the temper of her thoughts: gloomy, apprehensive, alien. She knew Radcliffe’s descriptions of Venice well enough to fancy herself already there; passing through Padua, she abandoned Emily hardly long enough to acknowledge its fine cathedral, claimed to have been designed by the great Michael-Angelo himself.

From near-by Mestre, which the Darcys reached the next afternoon, and where they would leave their carriages, Venice was only five miles away by water. Not wishing to suspend any pleasure of Georgiana’s, the family travelled directly across that evening, rather than staying ashore that night. Like Emily’s first view in The Mysteries of Udolpho, as Venice appeared, the sun sank in the west, colouring the waves into a blanket of saffron and the marble colonnades of St. Mark’s in a golden haze. To Georgiana, the city seemed to be ascending out of the sea, apace with the rising moon. In Venice, one could look in any direction and see the dark outlines of palaces, churches, and other magnificent buildings. Georgiana felt that all of the prose and poetry about Venice was insufficient to do it justice; it was necessary for one to experience such foreign sensations in order to appreciate its singular mystery and charm.

CHAP. 13.

GEORGIANA’S RELIEF IN ARRIVING there had the additional compensation of her retaining little expectation of meeting the Colonel in Venice, and, hence, sparing herself some portion of additional disappointment. Having settled themselves at the Albergo dell’ Europa near the Rialto, the Darcys walked about near their hôtel, first making their way to St. Mark’s Square. The family admired the Basilica and the Doge’s Palace, imagining the final passage of the criminals across the bridge latterly immortalised as “The Bridge of Sighs” by Lord Byron, connecting the interrogation rooms at the Palace to the prisons. The Square of St. Mark was several hundred feet on a side, enclosed by a colonnade surrounding the whole extent, enclosing beautiful shops, cafes, &c., on three sides, with the Cathedral of St. Mark, the Doge’s Palace, and the Campanile Tower—where Galileo had recorded the movement of the stars—on the fourth. The square was well-lit and had altogether a most magnificent appearance. In the centre, a military band played festive marches and charming Italian airs.