Augsburg, where I let it stay, a full ten hundred weight.
But it says it won't wait, hence the stink.

My picture [the self-portrait Dürer painted?], you must
know, says it would give a ducat for you to see it. It is
well painted and finely coloured. I have got much praise but
little profit by it. I could have easily earned 200 ducats
in the time, and I have had to decline big commissions in
order to come home.

I have shut up all the painters, who used to say that I was
good at engraving, but that in painting I didn't know how to
handle my colours. Now they all say they never saw better
colouring.

My French mantle greets you, and so does my Italian coat. It
seems to me that you smell of gallantry. I can scent it from
here; and they say here, that when you go courting, you
pretend to be no more than 25 years old. Oh, yes! Multiply
that and I`ll believe it. My friend, there `s a devil of a
lot of Italians here who are just like you. I don't know how
it is!

The Doge and the Patriarch have seen my picture. Herewith
let me commend myself as your servant. I really must sleep,
for it's striking seven at night, and I have already written
to the Prior of the Augustines, to my father-in-law, to
Mistress Dietrich, and to my wife, and they are all sheets
cram full. So I have had to hurry over this. Read according
to the sense. You would do it better if you were writing to