r the portrait.

It was in the year 1779 that I painted the Queen for the first time;
she was then in the heyday of her youth and beauty. Marie Antoinette
was tall and admirably built, being somewhat stout, but not
excessively so. Her arms were superb, her hands small and perfectly
formed, and her feet charming. She had the best walk of any woman in
France, carrying her head erect with a dignity that stamped her queen
in the midst of her whole court, her majestic mien, however, not in
the least diminishing the sweetness and amiability of her face. To any
one who has not seen the Queen it is difficult to get an idea of all
the graces and all the nobility combined in her person. Her features
were not regular; she had inherited that long and narrow oval peculiar
to the Austrian nation. Her eyes were not large; in colour they were
almost blue, and they were at the same time merry and kind. Her nose
was slender and pretty, and her mouth not too large, though her lips
were rather thick. But the most remarkable thing about her face was
the splendour of her complexion. I never have seen one so brilliant,
and brilliant is the word, for her skin was so transparent that it
bore no umber in the painting. Neither could I render the real effect
of it as I wished. I had no colours to paint such freshness, such
delicate tints, which were hers alone, and which I had never seen in
any other woman.

At the first sitting the imposing air of the Queen at first frightened
me greatly, but Her Majesty spoke to me so graciously that my fear was
soon dissipated. It was on that occasion that I began the picture
representing her with a large basket, wearing a satin dress, and
holding a rose in her hand. This portrait was destined for her
brother, Emperor Joseph II., and the Queen ordered two copies
besides--one for the Empress of Russia, the other for her own
apartments at Versailles or Fontainebleau.

I painted various pictures of the Queen at different times. In one I
did her to the knees, in a pale orange-red dress, standing before a
table on which she was arranging some flowers in a vase. It may be
well imagined that I preferred to paint her in a plain gown and
especially without a wide hoopskirt. She usually gave these portraits
to her friends or to foreign diplomatic envoys. One of them shows her
with a straw hat on, and a white muslin dress, whose sleeves are
turned up, though quite neatly. When this work was exhibited at the
Salon, mal