miniature portrait by the divine Elisabetta Sirani, which I sent to the
master some six months ago, with what results all must admire.'

"'Six months!' cried the Duchess, and seemed about to fall; but his
excellency caught her by the hand.

"'Nothing,' he said, 'could better please me than the excessive emotion you
display, for true piety is ever modest, and your thanks could not take a
form that better became you. And now,' says he to the men, 'let the image
be put in place.'

"By this, life seemed to have returned to the Duchess, and she answered him
with a deep reverence. 'That I should be overcome by so unexpected a grace,
your excellency admits to be natural; but what honors you accord it is my
privilege to accept, and I entreat only that in mercy to my modesty the
image be placed in the remotest part of the chapel.'

"At that the Duke darkened. 'What! You would have this masterpiece of a
renowned chisel, which, I disguise not, cost me the price of a good
vineyard in gold pieces, you would have it thrust out of sight like the
work of a village stonecutter?'

"'It is my semblance, not the sculptor's work, I desire to conceal.'

"'It you are fit for my house, Madam, you are fit for God's, and entitled
to the place of honor in both. Bring the statue forward, you dawdlers!' he
called out to the men.

"The Duchess fell back submissively. 'You are right, sir, as always; but I
would at least have the image stand on the left of the altar, that, looking