; Il Mercante di Venezia
@saehete ⚜ La Serenissima Repubblica di Venezia, 17th century
He woke up to the bubble and splash of the lulling waters, tickling his rousing senses like the gentle waves that ever lapped the enduring foundations of his palazzo. The seagulls’ cry keened sharply in his stirring ears, and he languidly rose from his bed, taking it as a sign to finally salute the now ageing morning that idly peeked through his open windows. He stretched out with a groan, basking in the Italian sunlight like a contented cat before sluggishly commencing the rituals of his morning ablutions and dressing. He may have been relatively young compared to other millennials, but he was ever so slow to find his starting energy. He surveyed the orderly lines of galleys as they exited the Venetian porto into the Mediterranean and beyond through squinting eyes, still adjusting to the brightness of the outside world, and sighed forlornly at the thought of the exotic wonders that awaited the bold explorers within them. There was perhaps a little envy inside his heart, but he suppressed it. After all the time for adventuring seafaring had to give way for political and economical consolidation, and though he wasn’t overly fond of politics and warfare, he did have quite a few mercantile and diplomatic affairs to mind with the Doge. It bored him numb out of his skull. He longed for the days when he could swoon over Marco Polo’s accounts, board a ship and sail into the unknown horizons of the far East or the promising West, exchanging thrilling tales with worldly explorers. There was so much now that he was longing to see, and yet he was stuck playing an adult game he profoundly disliked, living in dread of yet another Ottoman conflict, and the rising bitterness of crumbling relations with the (not-so)Holy See. What a bother. In a vain attempt at quelling his rising anguish, Veneziano liked to visit the magnificent Arsenale, Europe’s largest naval industrial enterprise; never mind that it was main source of wealth and power - it was his closely guarded, secret escape from the lavish cage of the beautiful water-bound Republic. He liked to idly stroll along the enclosed dockyard with a buoyant grin on his face, immersed in the harsh smells and sounds of industry. He found himself surveying the impressively advanced assembly line and engineering of old and new outstandingly crafted vessels, from trading to warfare. So much had changed, and the world kept ever turning, leaving him with an irrational fear of being left behind. But what he liked the most was to approach or be approached by foreigners as they disembarked their vessels, ready to trade or replenish their stocks and needs before setting off on another adventure. People from all over the world came there to see what was new in the seafaring trade. At times he would get careless, and attract some unwanted harassment, but he was quick to flee the unpleasant attentions. Often he would charm the merchants with his angelic allurement to ferry him around the lagoon as they recounted their journeys to him, sharing a basket of bread and dried fish, and for a short while he could simply bask in the caress of the pungent sea breeze in his hair and the refreshing splashes of salty water on his youthful face. Perhaps he would get lucky today, and it would be worth the scolding he would later get from the stern Doge.
