does the Venus of Urbino in the Tribuna, which was closely modelled upon it.  And the aged Titian had gone back even a step farther than Giorgione; the group of Antiope with Jupiter in the guise of a Satyr is clearly a reminiscence of a Nymph surprised by a Satyr—­one of the engravings in the Hypnerotomachia Poliphili first published in 1499, but republished with the same illustrations in 1545.[55]

[Illustration:  The Rape of Europa.  From the Engraving by J.Z.  Delignon.]

According to the correspondence published by Crowe and Cavalcaselle there were completed for the Spanish King in April 1562 the Poesy of Europa carried by the Bull, and the Christ praying in the Garden, while a Virgin and Child was announced as in progress.

These paintings, widely divergent as they are in subject, answer very well to each other in technical execution, while in both they differ very materially from the Venere del Pardo.  The Rape of Europa, which has retained very much of its blond brilliancy and charm of colour, affords convincing proof of the unrivalled power with which Titian still wielded the brush at this stage which precedes that of his very last and most impressionistic style.  For decorative effect, for “go,” for frankness and breadth of execution, it could not be surpassed.  Yet hardly elsewhere has the great master approached so near to positive vulgarity as here in the conception of the fair Europa as a strapping wench who, with ample limbs outstretched, complacently allows herself to be carried off by the Bull, making her appeal for succour merely pour la forme.  What gulfs divide this conception from that of the Antiope, from Titian’s earlier renderings of female loveliness, from Giorgione’s supreme Venus![56]

[Illustration:  Portrait of Titian, by himself.  Gallery of the Prado, Madrid.  From a Photograph by Braun, Clement, & Cie.]

The Agony in the Garden, which is still to be found in one of the halls of the Escorial, even now in its faded state serves to evidence the intensity of religious fervour which possessed Titian when, so late in life, he successfully strove to renew the sacred subjects.  If the composition—­as Crowe and Cavalcaselle assert—­does more or less resemble that of the famous Agony by Correggio now at Apsley House, nothing could differ more absolutely from the Parmese master’s amiable virtuosity than the aged Titian’s deep conviction.[57]

To the year 1562 belongs the nearly profile portrait of the artist, painted by himself with a subtler refinement and a truer revelation of self than is to be found in those earlier canvases of Berlin and the Uffizi in which his late prime still shows as a green and vigorous manhood.  This is now in the Sala de la Reina Isabel of the Prado.  The pale noble head, refined by old age to a solemn beauty, is that of one brought face to face with the world beyond; it is the face of the man who could conceive and paint the sacred pieces of the end, the Ecce Homo of Munich and the last Pieta, with an awe such as we here read in his eyes.  Much less easy is it to connect this likeness with the artist who went on concurrently producing his Venuses, mythological pieces, and pastorals, and joying as much as ever in their production.