my own part, I am inclined to pronounce the painting a work of the second quarter of the sixteenth century, by some one belonging to the circle of the Campi, who was haunted by reminiscences of Luini.

The decoration of the "Sala della Torre," or "delle Asse," which we know to have been undertaken by Leonardo, consists of a vast interlacement (one of the master's favourite motives), forming a kind. of bower of branches of trees, and knots or bows.

In addition to these mural decorations, Leonardo painted a certain number of easel pictures: a Nativity (which has disappeared), presented by II Moro to the Emperor of Germany, and several portraits.1 We have already men

tioned the portraits of Lodovico il Moro and Beatrice d'Este, painted opposite the Last Supper, and long since destroyed. Let us now consider the portraits of nobles and ladies of I1 Moro's Court.

Leonardo, as we know,

PLAN OF A PAVILION FOR THE DUCHESS OF MILAN.

(Library of the Institut de France.)

made his début at that Court as a singer and lute-player. We shall not, therefore, be surprised to find him humouring the caprices of his patron in his artistic capacity. He readily consented to paint 1 Milanesi, Documenti inediti riguardanti Leonardo da Vinci, p. 11.

portraits of the ducal family, legitimate and illegitimate. Two of the prince's mistresses, Cecilia Gallerani and Lucrezia Crivelli, sat to him in succession.

Despite II Moro's passion for her, and the dithyrambs of contemporary poets, Cecilia Gallerani's name would have been forgotten long since, but for the immortality conferred on her by Leonardo's brush.

1

It is not known when the master painted this portrait. It was, however, before 1492; for the Florentine poet, Bellincioni, who died that year, extolled it in a sonnet rather more rugged than usual; and, in a letter written in 1498, Cecilia speaks of it as having been painted when she was still very young.2

What became of La Gallerani's portrait? De Pagave says it was in the Palazzo Bonesana at Milan in the seventeenth century, and that Cecilia was painted with a cithar in her hand. Amoretti adds that in his time there was a copy in the Milan Gallery. This copy has been identified with an absolutely insignificant portrait now in the Ambrosiana, known as the Lute-Player. Among other old copies, we hear of one belonging to Signor Frisiani of Milan, and another in the Minutoli collection, near Greifenberg in Silesia. 3

1 Another sonnet by Bellincioni, in which the name Cecilia occurs, is said by Signor Uzielli to refer, not to Cecilia Gallerani, but to some unknown namesake of hers.

2 "We saw some fine portraits by Giambellino to-day," writes Isabella d'Este to Cecilia, "and this led us to discuss Leonardo's works, and to wish we could see some, in order to compare them with other pictures in our possession. We know he painted a portrait of you from life, and we beg you to send us your portrait by the bearer, whom we despatch for this special purpose. Besides desiring to make the comparison in question, we have also a great wish to see your features. As soon as we have examined and com

pared it, the picture shall be returned to you," etc.

To which Cecilia replies: "Most excellent and illustrious lady. . . . I have read what your Highness says as to your desire to see my portrait. I send it to you, and should send it even more willingly, if it were like me. Let not your Highness suppose me to impute any fault to the master, for I do not think his equal is to be found; but the picture was painted when I was extremely young (in una età si imperfetta'), and my face has changed so much that, seeing the portrait, and seeing me, no one would suppose it to be meant for me. I beg your Highness, however, to receive this proof of my goodwill favourably, and not the portrait alone. For I am ready to do much more to give pleasure to your Highness, whose very devoted servant I am, and I commend myself a thousand times to your Grace. From Milan, April 29, 1498. From your Excellency's servant, Scicilia Visconta Bergamina." (Luzio, Archivio storico dell' Arte, 1888, p. 181.) 3 Uzielli, Leonardo da Vinci e tre Gentildonne milanesi.-Amoretti mentions another supposed portrait of Cecilia, which belonged to the Pallavicini family of San Calocero in his time. It represented a woman between thirty and forty years old. There was no

But all this is mere hypothesis, and what we really know of Leonardo's portrait is summed up in Bellincione's sonnet.

The portrait of Cecilia's successor, Lucrezia Crivelli, is, according to some critics, to be identified with the famous picture in the Louvre known as La Belle Ferronière. This delicate work, admirably frank and firm in handling and in colour, rich and luscious as a fine Ghirlandajo, is unfortunately disfigured by numerous cracks, and by clumsy repaints, which have blurred it and made it heavy. Its essential distinction, however, has survived all ill-treatment. The costume of the sitter is at once dignified and simple: she wears a bodice of a fine red, slashed sleeves tied with bows of yellowish ribbon, and an embroidery of gold on a black ground as a finish to the square-cut opening which displays her throat. Her jewels are a diamond or ruby, hanging from a bandeau in the centre of her forehead, and a necklace of alternate black and white beads in four rows. In front of her is a stone balustrade. The work has all the freshness and simplicity of the Primitives, with an added grace and liberty. The eyes are large and well-opened; the carefully painted lids are somewhat heavy and languid; the mouth is sweet and noble; the general outline full of grace; the hair is drawn down in flat bands on the temples, and the whole expression is serious, chaste, and timid. If this was a prince's mistress, she was certainly not one of those proclamatory favourites, such as the fair Catelina, who demand an endless profusion of fêtes and jewels. Rather was she a Marie Touchet, or a Clara (the beloved of Egmont), happy in the love of a great prince, and asking neither for riches nor splendour, but only for his affection.1

Two other pictures in the Ambrosiana, one of a man, the other of a woman, seem to belong to the category of official portraits.

According to

The first, a bust three-quarters to the front, represents a beardless lute, and the hand was occupied in arranging the folds of the dress. Amoretti, Leonardo painted La Gallerani a third time, as Saint Cecilia, in a picture which, in his time, belonged to Professor Franchi. Here again we have to deal with conjectures devoid of all scientific basis.

1 The Codex Atlanticus contains three Latin epigrams of a somewhat trivial order, addressed to Leonardo in praise of Lucrezia's portrait. M. Valton, one of the most learned and discriminating of amateurs, calls my attention to the analogy between the Louvre portrait and the medal of Elisabetta Gonzaga, Duchess of Urbino. The headdress, among other details, is almost identical. Unfortunately, it is difficult to solve the problem, the portrait being full face, and the medal a profile.