The Veronese had a gift of sympathy; his heart opened to those who loved
art and had conquered difficulties in her service, and the talk flowed
freely. "I believe," he said, as together they laid away the parchment,
"that in our modern mosaics we should keep to the massive lines of these
earlier models--greater dignity and simplicity in outline and coloring.
It is a mistake to attempt to confound this art with painting."

"It is good, then, for our art, Messer Cavalière, that at San Donato,
our mother church, we workmen of Murano have our Lady in that old
Byzantine type; there is none earlier--nor in all Venice more perfect of
its time--and the setting is of marvelous richness and delicacy."

"It is most interesting," said the Veronese. "Sometimes a question has
come to me, if an artist cannot do the _all_, is he most the artist who
stops below his limitation or beyond it? A question of the earlier hint,
or the later realization."

"Between the mosaic and the painting, perhaps?" Girolamo questioned,
greatly interested.

"Nay, not between the arts, but of that which is possible to each. It is
not a Venetian question. Here all is warmth, color, beauty, joy; here
art is the expression of redundancy--it hath lost its symbolism."

"I know only Venice--the Greek and the Venetian types. But I have heard
that the Michelangelo was in himself a type?"

"He was a prophet," the Veronese answered reverently, "like the great
Florentine--a seer of visions; but at Rome only one understands why he