Like a young tropic tree she stood, laden down with greenness, myriad blossoms, and the ripened fruit thick- hanging from one bough.

She was promising as the morning.
Or Vivenza might be likened to St.John, feeding on locusts and wild honey, and with prophetic voice, crying to the nations from the wilderness.

Or, child-like, standing among the old robed kings and emperors of the Archipelago, Vivenza seemed a young Messiah, to whose discourse the bearded Rabbis bowed.
So seemed Vivenza in its better aspect.

Nevertheless, Vivenza was a braggadocio in Mardi; the only brave one ever known.

As an army of spurred and crested roosters, her people chanticleered at the resplendent rising of their sun.