The noon-bell in the southern turret of the Fondaco chimed softly. A
painter at work on the facade near by looked up inquiringly at the sun.
He smiled absently to himself and, dropping his brushes, descended
lightly from the scaffolding to the ground. He walked away a few
steps--as far as the ground permitted--and turned to look at the work
above.
"Not so bad," he murmured softly, "--not so bad ... and better from the
water." He glanced at the canal below. A white hand from a passing
gondola waved to him and motioned approvingly toward the colors of the
great wall.
"Bravo, Tiziano!" called some one from another craft. The canal took up
the cry. "Bravo, bravo! Bravo,--Tiziano!"
Titian raised his painter's cap and returned the salute. He stood with
one foot on the parapet, looking down and smiling with easy grace, at
the pleasure-loving crowd below. A man came in sight around the corner
of the Fondaco, walking slowly and looking up at the picture as he came.
"Well?" Titian glanced at him keenly.
"Great!" responded Giorgione heartily. "The Judith bears the light well,
and when the scaffolding is down it will be better yet.... Venice will
be proud!" He laid his hand affectionately on the other's shoulder and
motioned toward the throng of boats that had halted below, gazing at the
glowing wall.
"To-day Titian--to-morrow another!" said Titian a little bitterly.
"Why care?" responded Giorgione. "Some one to-day told me that my
Judith, on the south wall here, surpasses all my other work together."
He laughed cordially.
Titian looked at him keenly. His face had flushed a little under the
compliment. "It is like you not to care," he said affectionately.
"Care! Why should I care--so that the work is done?" His eyes rested
lovingly on the facade. "It is marvellous--that trick of light," he said
wonderingly.... "You must teach it to me."