They spent the whole afternoon sampling the city from their vessel, and if anyone was watching or following, they caught no sign of it. Even the Spanish mercenaries apparently unused to leisurely sightseeing, seemed to impressed by some of the sights. The cafes and Street theaters were in full swing as they sailed past the House Desdemona, the palatial dwelling named after Shakespeare’s character, past the monumental baroque church of Santa Maria with its vast dome and million-timber supports, past the royal gardens built by Napoleon, beneath bridges both tiny and magnificent, until they had gorged themselves on the colors and textures and shapes of Venice. It was after six in the evening when they returned, hungry for dinner, having resisted the dubious pleasures of canalside stalls that all offered an extensive range of remarkably poor fare.