The best proof we have that Titian’s artistic power was in many respects at its highest in 1566, is afforded by the magnificent portrait of the Mantuan painter and antiquary Jacopo da Strada, now in the Imperial Gallery at Vienna.  It bears, besides the usual late signature of the master, the description of the personage with all his styles and titles, and the date MDLXVI.  The execution is again di macchia, but magnificent in vitality, as in impressiveness of general effect, swift but not hasty or superficial.  The reserve and dignity of former male portraits is exchanged for a more febrile vivacity, akin to that which Lotto had in so many of his finest works displayed.  His peculiar style is further recalled in the rather abrupt inclination of the figure and the parallel position of the statuette which it holds.  But none other than Titian himself could have painted the superb head, which he himself has hardly surpassed.

It is curious and instructive to find the artist, in a letter addressed to Philip on the 2nd of December 1567, announcing the despatch, together with the just now described altar-piece, The Martyrdom of St. Lawrence, of “una pittura d’una Venere ignuda”—­the painting of a nude Venus.  Thus is the peculiar double current of the aged painter’s genius maintained by the demand for both classes of work.  He well knows that to the Most Catholic Majesty very secular pieces indeed will be not less acceptable than those much-desired sacred works in which now Titian’s power of invention is greatest.

[Illustration:  Religion succoured by Spain.  Gallery of the Prado, Madrid.  From a Photograph by Braun, Clement, & Cie.]

Our master, in his dealings with the Brescians, after the completion of the extensive decorations for the Palazzo Pubblico, was to have proof that Italian citizens were better judges of art than the King of Spain, and more grudging if prompter paymasters.  They declared, not without some foundation in fact, that the canvases were not really from the hand of Titian, and refused to pay more than one thousand ducats for them.  The negotiation was conducted—­as were most others at that time—­by the trusty Orazio, who after much show of indignation was compelled at last to accept the proffered payment.

[Illustration:  Portrait of the Antiquary Jacopo da Strada.  Imperial Gallery, Vienna.  From a Photograph by Loewy.]

[Illustration:  Madonna and Child.  Collection of Mr. Ludwig Mond.]

The great victory of Lepanto, gained by the united fleets of Spain and Venice over the Turk on the 7th of October 1571, gave fitting occasion for one of Paolo Veronese’s most radiant masterpieces, the celebrated votive picture of the Sala del Collegio, for Tintoretto’s Battle of Lepanto, but also for one of Titian’s feeblest works, the allegory Philip II. offering to Heaven his Son, the Infant Don Ferdinand, now No. 470 in the gallery