“Most gracious sir, if I had had in the box which I guarded so closely hams or other edibles, instead of this picture, or even articles of clothing or munitions of war, then surely I should have failed in bringing it here from Italy, considering all the bands of soldiers and robbers who fly through the German empire now, like a swarm of bees, and like locusts leave in their train, wherever they alight, want and wretchedness.”

“Yes, yes,” cried Count Schwarzenberg, with a short, peculiar laugh, “right ill things look throughout this holy German empire; poverty, war, and pestilence are the locusts of which you speak, and—­But why do you remind me of these unpleasant things?  Let me enjoy one quarter of an hour’s refreshment and joy.  Let me forget care for just a little while, and feast my eyes upon the sight of this glorious woman!”

“It is a Venus,” said Master Gabriel with diffidence, “the so-called Venus with the Mirror.  Master Titian has twice painted this design, only that in one picture two Cupids appear, while the other shows only one Love.”

“Very naturally,” laughed the count.  “When the great Titian painted the first picture one Love only existed, while at the second representation a second Love had arrived for the beautiful woman, to her own ineffable delight and that of her beloved Master Titiano Vecellio.”

“Pardon, your excellency,” remarked Master Gabriel, “indeed the painting represents a Venus.”

“There you are now, poor child of man,” cried Schwarzenberg, laughing aloud, “so properly reserved and so affectedly modest!  A mere woman in her primitive beauty would wound your sense of propriety, and you would not venture to look at her, but a goddess has permission to appear without earthly clothing, and you dare, casting reserve aside, to lift your eyes to her glorious form.  And besides, in your humility and modesty, you think that a woman of such godlike shape may not be found upon earth, therefore you exalt her to the gods, and therefore you call her a Venus, who is only the most voluptuous, beautiful, and charming of women.”

With upraised finger Master Gabriel pointed toward the naked little boys who, exquisitely fair, stood behind Venus and held her mirror for her.

“That is an angel, as your grace sees, for he has wings upon his shoulders,” he said, timidly.

But Count Adam von Schwarzenberg hastily took the master’s finger and directed it to another part of the picture.

“It is a woman,” he cried, laughing, “for she has flung a covering around her hips, and you can never make me believe that Venus upon Olympus wore velvet edged with ermine.  But let us quit this strife!  A beautiful woman is always a goddess, and he who would not acknowledge that would be a real heathen and barbarian.  I will therefore comply with your wish, and entitle this wondrous woman a Venus.  And I keep her, your Venus.  Name the price, master, and you shall immediately receive your pay.”