In the same year, 1532, he painted another goldsmith, Hans von Zürich, but the picture has disappeared, and is now only known from the engraving Hollar made of it in 1647, when it was in the Arundel collection. In the engraving he is shown at half-length, full-face, the body turned slightly to the left, and is a thin man, with a pleasant expression. It is inscribed on the top: “Hans von Zürch, Goltshmidt. Hans Holbein, 1532,” and below, “W. Hollar fecit, 1647, ex collectione Arundeliana,” and has a dedication by the publisher, H. Vander Borcht, to Matthäus Merian.[35] The date indicates that Hans von Zürich must have been living in London at that time, though his name does not occur in the State Papers.

One other portrait of a German merchant by Holbein was painted in the year 1532.[36] It is in the collection of Count von Schönborn in Vienna, and is one of a pair of portraits of brothers or near relations, members of the Wedigh family of Cologne.[37] They hung together until 1865, in which year the finer one of the two, dated 1533, was acquired by Herr B. Suermondt, of Aix-la-Chapelle, and is now in the Berlin Gallery, having been purchased in 1874, together with another fine portrait by Holbein of an unknown young man, from the Suermondt collection. The close relationship of the two sitters is proved by the exactly similar coat of arms on the enamelled ring each one is wearing. In the first edition of his book Woltmann gave it as his opinion that they were Englishmen, but afterwards came to the conclusion that both portraits represented German Steelyard merchants. The belief that they were Englishmen was afterwards strengthened by a communication to the Berlin authorities from Privy Councillor Dielitz, who, from the coat of arms on the rings, held that the pictures represented two members of the English family of Trelawney. This ascription, however, has been proved to be wrong, and it may be pointed out that the motto inscribed on the paper projecting from the book in the Vienna portrait,—“Veritas odium parit” (“Truth brings hatred”), is not the present motto of the Trelawney family. On the side of the same book, painted on the edges of the leaves, are the letters “H E R. W I D.,” and more recent research has established the fact that the two men were members of the Wedigh family. Members of this patrician family of Cologne had been connected with the London Steelyard since 1480. In this connection it is interesting to note that the seal in the so-called “Hans of Antwerp” picture is engraved with the letter “W,” which suggests some possibility that he, too, may have been a Wedigh.

The 1532 picture in the Schönborn collection is a small half-length. The subject, who is seated at the back of a table, is turned to the right, with head almost full-front and looking at the spectator. His right arm rests on the table, and he holds his gloves in his left hand. His hair, cut straight across his forehead, covers his ears, and he is clean-shaven. He is wearing the usual dark overcoat with deep fur collar, and an inner collar or lining of lighter fur, opened sufficiently to show a part of his embroidered under-dress, the sleeves of which are of watered or patterned silk, and a white pleated shirt gathered round the neck in a small frill. The customary flat black cap is on his head. On the table to the left is a leather-bound book with two clasps, with the artist’s initials on the cover, and a piece of paper projecting from between the leaves on which is written the Latin motto already quoted. On the plain blue background is inscribed on either side of the head, “ANNO. 1532.” and “ÆTATIS.SVÆ. 29.” It is a sympathetic and simple rendering of a young man of serious expression, in which both the beardless face, of a somewhat reddish complexion, and the two hands are very finely painted. Woltmann conjectured that the Latin motto indicated that the book on the table might be one of those writings which the German reformers were at that time busily engaged in smuggling into England, the secret dissemination of which neither Wolsey or More could stay, in spite of the drastic methods they employed to stamp it out. Although possessing many privileges, the men of the Steelyard were by no means free from persecutions of this nature.

The companion picture, in the Berlin Gallery (No. 586B) (Pl. 3), represents Hermann Hillebrandt Wedigh.[38] Like that of his brother, it is a small half-length. He stands directly facing the spectator, the left hand holding his buff-coloured gloves, and the right half hidden by the heavy dark-brown cloak, with black velvet collar and velvet at the wrists, the folds of which are finely arranged and painted. This cloak lacks the customary fur collar. The white shirt, partly open and showing the bare chest beneath, is tied in the front by long strings passed through a white button, and the embroidered collar is almost hidden by his beard. A flat black cap is on his head, of the type worn by all the Steelyard merchants in Holbein’s portraits. The hair, beard, and long moustache are fair, the separate hairs being indicated with almost microscopic care. The eyes are brown, the left one being decidedly smaller than the right, and there is a corresponding difference in the development of the two sides of the face. There are no accessories of any kind, and upon the plain blue background, on either side of the head, is inscribed, in gold letters: “ANNO. 1533.” and “ÆTATIS SVÆ. 39.” The gold ring is enamelled in red, white and black, and in the circle round the coat of arms there are some letters now undecipherable. This is one of the finest and most sympathetic portraits ever painted by Holbein. The face, in spite of its slight irregularity, is one of great charm and much sweetness of expression. The drawing of the hands and mouth is particularly fine.[39]

Three other portraits of Steelyard merchants bear the date 1533: Derich Born at Windsor, Derich Tybis at Vienna, and Cyriacus Fallen at Brunswick. The portrait of Derich Born (Pl. 4 (1)),[40] in the royal collection at Windsor Castle, painted when he was twenty-three, is, after the “Gisze” and “Hermann Wedigh” portraits, perhaps the most attractive of the Steelyard series. It is slightly under life-size, the figure shown nearly to the waist, turned to the right, and the head, upon which the light falls strongly from above on the right, nearly in full-face. His right elbow rests on a stone ledge or parapet which runs across the picture, the left hand placed across the right wrist, and a gold signet-ring with a coat of arms on his forefinger. He wears a flat black cap, black silk dress, and a white shirt with a collar of so-called Spanish work of black silk thread, very delicately painted. He is beardless, and has chestnut-brown hair, cut straight across the forehead and hiding the ears in the customary fashion.

On the flat stonework below the ledge on which his arm rests is inscribed, in large Roman letters as though cut in the stone, the following Latin couplet:

(“If you were to add a voice this would be Derich, his very self; and you would doubt whether a painter or a parent had produced him.”)

Below this runs, in slightly smaller letters of the same type:

The background is of a dark greenish blue against which stand out some branches and leaves of a vine or fig tree. It is painted in cool and delicate tones, with flesh tints of a pale brown, in which it bears a close resemblance to the portrait of Georg Gisze. It is marked, too, by the same simplicity and restraint, and air of quiet and dignified repose, and searching truth and insight in the rendering of what must have been a very attractive nature, qualities which make Holbein’s portraiture so great.

This is the only one of several portraits of the series without letters or papers bearing the name and address of the sitter which can be said with absolute certainty to represent one of the London Steelyard merchants. Mr. W. F. Dickes suggests that it represents the eldest son and successor of Theodorichus de Born, the printer, of Deventer and Nimeguen, who issued the Netherland New Testament in 1532, and he quotes a reference to a Theodorichus de Born de Novimagio acting as Secretary to the Faculty of Arts at Cologne University, and also to a Derichus de Born who had a licence to preach. “Remembering,” he says, “that Erasmus spent his schooldays at Deventer, and that Holbein owed to him several of his introductions, I think my suggestion deserves to be considered. At any rate, there is no necessity to assume, as is done without a tittle of evidence, that this young scholar was a member of the Stahlhof! Nor does the presence of this portrait at Windsor prove that it was painted in England.”[41]

Mr. Dickes, whose chief object is to prove, for the purposes of his theory about the “Ambassadors,” that none of these Steelyard portraits was painted in England, starts by misquoting the inscription on the picture, which he gives as “Derichus si vocem addas de Born,” an extraordinary mixing of the first and third lines. There is no “de Born” in it, it is distinctly “Der. Born,” and though the young man depicted may have been a member of Theodorichus de Born’s family, as he suggests, he was certainly a member of the Steelyard, and known in London as Derich Born. In the Calendars of Letters and Papers, under the heading of “Ordnance,” a paper is printed which gives a list of “payments made by Erasmus Kyrkenar, the King’s armourer, by his Majesty’s command, from 15th Sept, to 13th Oct. 28 Hen. VIII” (1536), for wages of armourers, and the providing of armour, harness, &c., in connection with the Rebellion in the North. Among the items included in his account is the following:

“For various bundles of harness bought of Mr. Locke, merchant of London, and of Dyrycke Borne, merchant of the Steelyard,” &c.[42] This, though it does not actually prove him to have been in London in 1533, shows that he was most certainly here three years later as a member of the Steelyard. Evidence of his presence in London in the years 1542-49 is to be found in the Inventare hansischer Archive des 16. Jahrhunderts, I, quoted by Dr. Ganz,[43] who states that he was a merchant of Cologne.

The picture is on oak, 1 ft. 11½ in. high by 1 ft. 7¼ in. wide. It was at one time in the Arundel collection, and is entered in the 1655 inventory as “Derichius a Born.” It is possible that the earl owned more than one of the Steelyard portraits, for there are two entries of portraits of men with black birettas. On the back is the brand of Charles I, “C.R.” crowned, though it is not described in his catalogue. There is a second portrait of Derich Born by Holbein, a small oval of about 3 in. high (9 × 8 mm.), on paper, in the Alte Pinakothek at Munich, giving the head and shoulders only.[44] It is painted in oil on paper, and has suffered somewhat from retouching, but is still an excellent example of the small portraits in oil on wood or paper, usually enclosed in a case of wood or ivory, which Holbein was fond of painting at this period, closely akin to his true miniatures of a rather later date. In the Munich version the position is reversed, the sitter being turned to the right, and the face not quite so fully to the front. The workmanship, more particularly of the collar, is as fine as in the larger Windsor portrait. His name and age and the date are given, but the last figures and letters have been cut away, probably when fitting it into the frame, so that all that is left of the inscription on the background, on either side of the head, now reads:

There is every probability that the completed date was 1533, and that the little picture was produced at about the same time as the Windsor version, though the sitter looks slightly younger, and while the more important work was painted for a place on the walls of the Hanse Guildhall, the lesser one may well have been done for sending to the sitter’s relations abroad. The Munich catalogue states that it is from the Elector Palatine’s palace at Mannheim, but otherwise nothing is known of its history.

The half-length portrait of Derich Tybis, of Duisburg (Pl. 4 (2)), about half the size of life, in the Vienna Gallery (No. 1485), is of the same date, 1533.[45] It is a full-face representation of a young man, with dark brown eyes and hair, his double chin and upper lip being clean-shaven and tinged with blue. In his hands, which rest on a table in front of him, he is holding a letter which he is about to open. He wears the usual heavy, black, sleeveless cloak or overcoat, with a deep collar of fur, and a smaller inner collar of lighter fur. The fore-sleeves of his under-dress are of dark-brown velvet. The open fur collar allows a glimpse of a finely-pleated white shirt, with a neck-band of a conventional design of holly leaves worked in gold thread in place of the more usual black Spanish embroidery. He wears two rings on the forefinger of his left hand, one with an oval green stone in a claw setting. The table is covered with an olive-green cloth, and lying upon it are a second letter, a paper with an inscription, a seal, quill-pen, sealing-wax, and a circular inkstand in two divisions, with an ink-well in one half and some gold coins in the other.

The picture has suffered some damage, more particularly in the colour. The ground, which was originally azure blue, has turned to a greenish tone, and the shadows of the flesh are now too grey; but the masterly draughtmanship is still there and the extraordinary insight into character. Here again the fine and expressive hands at once attract attention.

The letter he holds in his hands is from his father, and is addressed “Dem ersamen Deryck tybis von Duysburch alwyl London vff wi ... dgyss mynem lesten Sun....” (“To the honourable Derich Tybis of Duisburg, at the time in London, in Windgyss, my dear son”). This address shows that Tybis was living in Windgoose Alley, one of the passage-ways running through the Steelyard, with the houses and shops of the members on either side.

On the open paper lying on the table is inscribed, in imitation of the sitter’s handwriting:

“Da ick was 33 jar alt was ick Deryck Tybis to London dyser gestalt en hab dyser gelicken den mark gesch[rieben] myt myner eigenen Hant en was Holpein malt anno 1533. per my Deryck [device here] Tybis fan Drys[burch].”

(“When I was 33 years old, I, Deryck Tybis, in London, had this appearance, and I have marked this portrait with my device in my own hand, and it was painted by Holbein in the year 1533, by me Deryck (here stands the device) Tybis von Drys....”)

The device, a combination of crosses, is repeated on the seal on the table, with the letters D.T., reversed, on either side of it. There is a somewhat similar device on some of the letters in Georg Gisze’s portrait. The address on the second letter, lying in front of him, is now almost illegible. There is no inscription on the background. The writer has found no reference to Tybis in the English State Papers.

The fourth Steelyard portrait of 1533, that of Cyriacus Fallen, in the Brunswick Gallery,[46] is also a half-length, about half the size of life. Like Derich Tybis, the sitter is shown full-face, looking at the spectator. His hair is cut in the customary Steelyard fashion, and he is clean-shaven. His black cap is set rather jauntily on one side, and his black overcoat has a very heavy fur collar, while his fore-sleeves are of brown silk with a pattern, as in the Wedigh portrait. The neck of his white embroidered shirt is just visible over the collar. In his hands he holds his gloves and two letters, superscribed with his name and address in London. These addresses are not very legible. Dr. Woltmann at first supposed the Christian name to be Ambrose, but further examination proved it to be Cyriacus. One of the inscriptions is: “Dem Ersamen syryacussfalen zu luden vp Stalhoff sy disser briff”; and the other: “Dem Ersamen f. ... syriakus fallenn in Lunde ... stalhuff sy dies....”

On the green background, on either side of the sitter’s head, is inscribed his motto, “Patient in all things,” his age, and the date:

Fallen has a broad face, and a somewhat stolid expression; like his fellow merchants, he has been placed upon the panel with absolute truth and precision, without a touch of flattery. The eyes, hands, and dress are still in excellent condition, but the head, unfortunately, has suffered greatly in the course of time, and has been much rubbed and overcleaned, and retouched in numerous places.[47]

There is a gap of three years before the next and last of this series of portraits of Hanse merchants is reached, that of Derich Berck or Berg of Cologne, in Lord Leconfield’s collection at Petworth (#Pl. 5#),[48] which is dated 1536. He is represented life-size, at half-length, and full face, with brown hair and beard, and black dress and cap. Both hands are shown, and the left, resting on a table with a red cover, holds a letter addressed:—“Dem Ersame’ v[n]d fromen Derich berk i. London upt. Stalhoff,” together with the motto besad dz end (“Consider the end”), and the trade-mark of his business house. On the table is a slip of paper with the Latin motto, “Olim meminisse juvabit,” selected by Berck, says Dr. Ganz, to indicate that Holbein’s brush will secure him immortality.[49] In the top right-hand corner are the date and the sitter’s age, “AN. 1536. ÆTA: 30” twice over, a later inscription being painted over the faded original one. The background is blue, with a green curtain on the left.

The writer has not seen this picture, but it is described as follows by Dr. Ganz in the Burlington Magazine:—“The merchant’s cloth and cap are black, but not dark; the heavy silk reflects the light in a greenish colour finely observed. The background is blue, of the same blue as in the portrait of Richard Southwell at Florence executed in the same year. It is enriched by a green curtain with red strings, giving an opportunity for the artist—like the red cloth on the table—for introducing other tones into his composition, such as black, besides the main notes of blue and flesh colour. The brightest point in this profound harmony of colours, a part of the white shirt with black embroidery, is placed just under the face and makes the fresh and lively expression of it stronger. The light shines with a rare splendour over this man’s healthy face and is reflected in the grey-blue eyes, which look so frank and kindly.” This picture has suffered from over-painting, but it remains a splendid and virile example of Holbein’s portraiture. There is a poor copy of it in the Alte Pinakothek at Munich,[50] purchased in 1899 from a local picture-dealer. It had come originally from France, and was regarded as an unfinished portrait by Holbein of an unknown man. The Munich catalogue describes it as a school-replica.

To Holbein the Steelyard proved to be in all ways a fruitful source of income. Not only was he busily engaged for some years in painting individual members of the League, but he was also employed by them in their corporate capacity upon an important work of decoration for their Guildhall, and in at least one other direction. This decoration consisted of two large allegorical paintings in tempera representing “The Triumph of Riches” and “The Triumph of Poverty.” No record exists as to the date of this work, but it is reasonable to suppose that the commission was given him in 1532 or 1533, at the time when he was in constant attendance within the precincts of the Steelyard for the purpose of painting some of its leading members in the midst of their daily occupations.

These decorative paintings have long since disappeared, but the original design for “The Triumph of Riches” exists, as well as numerous copies of both compositions, so that it is possible to gain some idea of their beauty and importance. These allegories, which contained many life-size figures, were not painted on the walls, but on canvas, and so easily removable. They added greatly to the artist’s reputation in this country, and before the close of the sixteenth century they were celebrated throughout Europe among artists and connoisseurs of painting. Carel von Mander says that Federigo Zuccaro, about the year 1574, made two drawings from them, and declared them to be equal to anything accomplished by Raphael, and that after his return to Italy he told Goltzius the painter that they were even finer than any wall-paintings from Raphael’s brush.

The two pictures remained in the Guildhall of the Steelyard until 1598, when it was closed by Queen Elizabeth, who at the same time expelled the Germans from their houses. For some years the place remained desolate, and when, in 1606, under James I, the buildings were restored to the League, most of the property left behind was found to have been stolen or badly damaged. The glory and prosperity of the Steelyard, indeed, had completely vanished, never to be fully restored again, and when the affairs of the Company in London were finally wound up, the two pictures were presented by the League, through their representative, the house-master, Holtscho, on January 22nd, 1616 (old style) to Henry, Prince of Wales, like his brother, Charles I, a patron of the fine arts. Holtscho, in describing the event, says: “I cannot, also, leave it unnoticed, that although these works are old, and have lost their freshness, yet His Highness, as a lover of painting, and as the works of the master, specially this work, have been highly commended, has taken great pleasure in them, as I have myself perceived, and have also heard from himself.”[51] The researches of Dr. Lappenberg have placed these facts beyond doubt, thus disproving the old legend that the pictures were destroyed when still hanging on the walls of the banqueting-hall of the Easterlings during the Great Fire in 1666.

It has been generally supposed that on the death of Prince Henry, two years after they were presented to him, the pictures passed into the possession of Charles I; and as they were not included among the pictures of that King’s collection sold by order of the Commonwealth in 1648-53, Dr. Lappenberg concluded that they must have remained at Whitehall until destroyed in the fire at that palace in 1698. Further evidence, however, appears to contradict this conclusion. In Van der Doort’s carefully-prepared catalogue of Charles I’s collection, although several less important works by Holbein are included, among them two miniatures, these two celebrated pictures are not mentioned. Again, Sandrart, in his autobiography, describes the two compositions in some detail, after seeing them in 1627 in the Earl of Arundel’s possession, in the long garden gallery in Arundel House. He does not say whether they were pictures or drawings, so that they may have been only the original designs; it is much more probable, however, that they were the large paintings, as Sandrart speaks of them first of all, as the chief of Holbein’s works belonging to the Earl, and afterwards describes three of his best known portraits, hanging in the same gallery, those of Erasmus, Sir Thomas More, and a “Princess of Lorraine” (the Duchess of Milan), which seems to indicate that Lord Arundel possessed the large works. It has been suggested that they may have been presented by Charles I to the Earl; but it is more likely that they were obtained by exchange with that monarch. Later on they were taken abroad with the rest of the collection by the Countess of Arundel, and were in Amsterdam at the time of her death in 1654. In the inventory then drawn up they are merely described as “Triumpho della Richezza” and “Triumpho della Poverta.” Probably they were among the pictures hastily sold by Lord Stafford in that town immediately after his mother’s decease.[52] The last trace of their history to be found is in a paragraph in Félibien’s Entretiens sur les Vies et sur les Ouvrages des plus excellents Peintres anciens et modernes, published in 1666, in which he speaks of them as having been brought from Flanders to Paris: “Il y avait encore dans la maison des Ostrelins, dans la salle du Convive, deux tableaux à détrempe, qu’on a veûs icy depuis quelques années, et qu’on avait envoyez de Flandres.”[53]

If Félibien is correct, the pictures had once more come into the possession of the Hanseatic League. They were, no doubt, purchased in Amsterdam by that body, and forwarded to Paris. No further record of them has been discovered, and as they were already in a damaged state when presented to the Prince of Wales, the probability is that they have perished.

Holbein’s original sketch for “The Triumph of Riches,” a masterly pen drawing washed with Indian-ink, and touched with white in the high lights, is in the Louvre (#Pl. 6#).[54] A similar drawing in the British Museum, purchased in 1854, which at one time was attributed to Holbein himself, is said by Woltmann to be a tracing of the Louvre example; but it has no appearance of being traced, and is certainly a copy, perhaps by an Italian.[55] The heads and attributes are given a Raphaelesque air, strikingly different from the Flemish style of a second drawing in the Museum, of the second composition, “The Triumph of Poverty.”[56] This latter is in black and red chalks and pen, washed with Indian-ink, and heightened with white, on a blue background, and was acquired in 1894 from the Eastlake collection. Lady Eastlake possessed a similar drawing of the “Riches.” Both are in all probability by Lucas Vorsterman the younger, and were purchased by Sir Charles Eastlake from the Walpole sale in 1842 for sixteen guineas. They appear to be copies, as Vertue suggested, made for engraving purposes by Lucas Vorsterman from the drawings done by Zuccaro in 1574; or possibly from the original paintings when in Amsterdam. Vorsterman certainly engraved one, if not both subjects, though only his engraving of the “Poverty” is known. These drawings,[57] at one time in the Lely collection, were in Buckingham House, before it was purchased for a royal palace, and were sold as allegorical works by Van Dyck, and bought by Horace Walpole, who regarded the “Riches” as by Vorsterman, and the “Poverty” as by Zuccaro; but the latter, like the former, is decidedly Flemish in style.[58] Sandrart possessed copies, in all probability those made by Zuccaro, which were afterwards in the Crozat collection, and when that collection was sold passed into that of Privy Councillor Fleischmann, of Strasburg, and while in his possession were engraved for Von Mechel’s “œuvres de Jean Holbein,” and inscribed “Zuccari delin. 1574.” All further traces of these Zuccaro drawings have now been lost.

The British Museum possesses a very rare and interesting engraving, dated 1561,[59] and inscribed “Faicte par Maistre Hans Holbeyn tres excellent pointre. Et imprime par Johan Borgni Floreto en Anuers lan M·D·LXI.” It is evidently taken from Holbein’s original design, which must have been in Antwerp at that date. Larger copies of both paintings are also in the British Museum; they are by Jan de Bisschop, a Dutch artist who died in 1686, and were probably made from the original large compositions when they were in Amsterdam. They are pen drawings washed with bistre, and are executed with great detail (#Pl. 7#).[60] The “Riches” shows several minor differences and some additions when compared with the Louvre drawing. Two new characters are introduced, Phileas and Leo Pisanus, their heads appearing before and behind the charioteer, as well as Heliogabalus and some unnamed persons; there is a parrot on the tree in the background (as in the Vorsterman drawing), while the tree itself is much larger and more finished. All goes to prove, in short, that the Louvre drawing and the copy of it in the British Museum represent Holbein’s study for the painting, while the Bisschop drawings were made from the paintings themselves, and the Vorsterman drawings either from the finished works or from Zuccaro’s copies of them, and represent the final designs.[61] The British Museum possesses a third copy of the “Triumph of Poverty,” made by Matthäus Merian the Younger in 1640, when the picture was still in London.[62]

It has been noted in an earlier chapter that Holbein, in his wall-paintings, was influenced by the example of Andrea Mantegna, whose “Triumph of Cæsar” had a European reputation. The Steelyard allegories were compositions of a similar nature, though in no sense copies of any earlier Italian work. The “Triumph of Riches” represents a crowded procession moving towards the spectator’s left. The magnificent chariot of Plutus, drawn by four white horses, is followed and surrounded by the most famous men of wealth of antiquity. The god of riches himself, old, bent, and bald, is seated on a high seat at the back of the car, with his feet on a sack of gold. In front of him sits Fortune on a globe, blindfolded,[63] her veil blown out like a sail, and stooping down to scatter gold among the crowd; and in front of her sits the Charioteer, named Ratio, holding the reins, which are labelled Notitia and Voluntas. The two near horses, Impostura and Contractus, are led by Bona Fides and Justitia, two finely designed figures of women, while two other women, Liberalitas and Æqualitas, are mounted on the off horses, Avaritia and Usura, which they urge along with short whips. On either side of the chariot walk Simonides, Sichaeus, Leo Byzantius, Bassa, Themistocles, Pythius, Crispinus, Ventidius, who holds up his toga to catch the coins Fortune is scattering, Gadareus and others, some of them bent down with the weight of gold they are carrying in sacks or large purses. Behind the car rides Crœsus, a majestic, crowned figure, his horse led by Narcissus, with Cleopatra, Midas, Tantalus, and other riders bringing up the rear. On the extreme right of the composition Nemesis hovers over them in the clouds. To each figure a label with the name is attached, all of which are not given on the Louvre drawing, but are found in the Vorsterman and Bisschop copies. On the extreme left, in the sky, is a large cartellino,[64] with a Latin inscription of two lines in Roman characters:—