The prisoners numbered 4,440, and were more like ghosts than men, so near starvation had they come. They were sent to Venice, where many died in their prisons while preparations were being made for the triumphal return of Contarini. This occurred on the first day of July, and was as magnificent as such a spectacle at Venice was sure to be. But rarely, even in this city, had so remarkable a trio been seen as that of the patriotic and dauntless Doge, the single-hearted Pisani, and the peerless Zeno. But two days elapsed before Pisani again set sail and occupied himself in opposing the enemies of the Republic. In pursuit of the Genoese he reached Manfredonia on August 12. The hardships of service and imprisonment had told on the constitution of the Admiral, and he was {158} now attacked by fever which greatly alarmed his friends; but he made light of it, and on the 18th despatched Corbaro, his old companion, with eight galleys to follow the Genoese fleet, which was in sight. But his impatience overcame his resolution to remain behind, and in spite of all expostulation he left his sick-bed, armed himself, and directed his sails to be set. The enterprise failed; Corbaro was killed; Pisani was wounded slightly, and returned at evening to Manfredonia much dejected, ill, and fainting. He was removed to the house of the commandant of the port, who procured a physician for him; he requested an amanuensis, and dictated a long letter to the Senate, closing with his plans which should "make Genoa rue the day when she entered upon the War of Chioggia." The letter finished, he asked for water, and then for bread, which he began to eat ravenously, but suddenly changed color, gasped for breath, and sank lifeless upon his pillow. He was but fifty-six years old, and his life-work would have honored fourscore years, since we live not by time, but by deeds. He was deeply mourned, and the tears on the faces of the weather-beaten sailors when they learned of the death of their "Father" proved how truly they had loved their brave commander, who had survived the redemption of the Doge's vow but seven weeks. The most sumptuous funeral was decreed by the Senate, and he was to be buried in San Antonio di Castello, where his father and brother already rested. The whole people were so wrapped in grief, and the public mind so occupied with the obsequies, that "if the smallest Genoese fleet had made a descent at that conjuncture, the country would have stood in the utmost peril." As the procession was about to move, a popular clamor was raised, the people declaring that Pisani ought to be buried nowhere but in {159} the Ducal Chapel; and just when a tumult was threatened, a sailor put his shoulder to the bier, crying out, "We, his children, are carrying this brave captain to our Father, Saint Anthony!"