eserved his mental and physical vigour to the end. Further,
the imperial court with its Spanish etiquette, its Spanish language and
manners, was much the same at Augsburg as he had known it on previous
occasions at Bologna. Moreover, Augsburg and Nuremberg[41] had, during
the last fifty years, been in close touch with Venice in all matters
appertaining to art and commerce. Especially the great banking house of
the Fuggers had the most intimate relations with the queen-city of the
Adriatic. Yet art of the two great German cities would doubtless appeal
less to the Venetian who had arrived at the zenith of his development
than it would and did to the Bellinis and their school at the beginning
of the century. The gulf had become a far wider one, and the points of
contact were fewer.

The trusted Orazio had been left behind, notwithstanding the success
which he had achieved during the Roman tour, and it may be assumed that
he presided over the studio and workshop at Biri Grande during his
father's absence. Titian was accompanied to Augsburg by his second
cousin, Cesare Vecellio,[42] who no doubt had a minor share in very many
of the canvases belonging to the period of residence at Augsburg. Our
master's first and most grateful task must have been the painting of the
great equestrian portrait of the Emperor at the Battle of Muehlberg,
which now hangs in the Long Gallery of the Prado at Madrid. It suffered
much injury in the fire of the Pardo Palace, which annihilated so many
masterpieces, but is yet very far from being the "wreck" which, with an
exaggeration not easily pardonable under the circumstances, Crowe and
Cavalcaselle have described it. In the presence of one of the world's
masterpieces criticism may for once remain silent, willingly renouncing
all its rights. No purpose would be served here by recording how much
paint has been abraded in one corner, how much added in another. A deep
sense of thankfulness should possess us that the highest manifestation
of Titian's genius has been preserved, even though it be shorn of some
of its original beauty. Splendidly armed in steel from head to foot, and
holding firmly grasped in his hand the spear, emblem of command in this
instance rather than of combat, Caesar advances with a mien impassive yet
of irresistible domination. He bestrides with ease his splendid
dark-brown charger, caparisoned in crimson, and heavily weighted like
himself with the full panoply of battle, a perfec