Mark's is noticeable, causing it to bloom unexpectedly into fresh
subtleties and glories. The gold takes so sympathetically to any least
tint of color that is in the air, and counts up the altar candles even
unto its furthest recesses and cupolas.
I think before I leave Venice I shall find about ten Tintorettos which I
really like. Best of all is that Bacchus and Ariadne in the Ducal Palace,
of which you gave me the engraving. His "Marriage of St. Catherine," which
is there also, has all Veronese's charm of color and what I call his
"breeding"; and in the ceiling of the Council Chamber is one splendid
figure of a sea-youth striding a dolphin.
Last evening we climbed the San Giorgio campanile for a sunset view of
Venice; it is a much better point of view than the St. Mark's one, and
we were lucky in our sunset. Venice again looked like a beautified
factory town, blue and blue with smoke and evening mists. Down below in
the church I met a delightful Capuchin priest who could talk French, and
a poor, very young lay-brother who had the holy custody of the eyes
heavily upon his conscience when I spoke to him. I was so sorry for him!
The Mother-Aunt is ill in bed; but as she is at the present moment
receiving three visitors, you will understand about how ill. The fact
is, she is worn to death with sight-seeing. I can't stop her; while she
is on her legs it is her duty, and she will.
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