Of those tall piles and sea-girt palaces,[ef] Whose porphyry pillars, and whose costly fronts, Fraught with the Orient spoil of many marbles, Like altars ranged along the broad canal, Seem each a trophy of some mighty deed 80 Reared up from out the waters, scarce less strangely Than those more massy and mysterious giants Of architecture, those Titanian fabrics, Which point in Egypt's plains to times that have No other record. All is gentle: nought Stirs rudely; but, congenial with the night, Whatever walks is gliding like a spirit. The tinklings of some vigilant guitars Of sleepless lovers to a wakeful mistress, And cautious opening of the casement, showing 90 That he is not unheard; while her young hand, Fair as the moonlight of which it seems part, So delicately white, it trembles in The act of opening the forbidden lattice,[433] To let in love through music, makes his heart Thrill like his lyre-strings at the sight; the dash Phosphoric of the oar, or rapid twinkle Of the far lights of skimming gondolas,[434] And the responsive voices of the choir Of boatmen answering back with verse for verse; 100 Some dusky shadow checkering the Rialto; Some glimmering palace roof, or tapering spire,[eg] Are all the sights and sounds which here pervade The ocean-born and earth-commanding City-- How sweet and soothing is this hour of calm! I thank thee, Night! for thou hast chased away Those horrid bodements which, amidst the throng, I could not dissipate: and with the blessing Of thy benign and quiet influence, Now will I to my couch, although to rest 110 Is almost wronging such a night as this,---- [_A knocking is heard from without_. Hark! what is that? or who at such a moment?[eh] _Enter_ ANTONIO. _Ant_. My Lord, a man without, on urgent business, Implores to be admitted. _Lioni_. Is he a stranger?[ei] _Ant_. His face is muffled in his cloak, but both His voice and gestures seem familiar to me;[ej] I craved his name, but this he seemed reluctant To trust, save to yourself; most earnestly He sues to be permitted to approach you. _Lioni_. 'Tis a strange hour, and a suspicious bearing! 120 And yet there is slight peril: 'tis not in Their houses noble men are struck at; still, Although I know not that I have a foe In Venice, 'twill be wise to use some caution. Admit him, and retire; but call up quickly Some of thy fellows, who may wait without.-- Who can this man be?-- [_Exit_ ANTONIO, _and returns with_ BERTRAM _muffled_.