in its quietude, must be discerned in Lucy and her
sisters. The whole of the altar in this inner church belongs to Luini.
Were it not for darkness and decay, we should pronounce this series of
the Passion in nine great compositions, with saints and martyrs and
torch-bearing genii, to be one of his most ambitious and successful
efforts. As it is, we can but judge in part; the adolescent beauty of
Sebastian, the grave compassion of St. Rocco, the classical perfection
of the cupid with lighted tapers, the gracious majesty of women smiling
on us sideways from their Lombard eyelids--these remain to haunt our
memory, emerging from the shadows of the vault above.

The inner church, as is fitting, excludes all worldly elements. We are
in the presence of Christ's agony, relieved and tempered by the sunlight
of those beauteous female faces. All is solemn here, still as the
convent, pure as the meditations of a novice. We pass the septum, and
find ourselves in the outer church appropriated to the laity. Above the
high-altar the whole wall is covered with Luini's loveliest work, in
excellent light and far from ill preserved. The space divides into eight
compartments. A Pieta, an Assumption, Saints and Founders of the church,
group themselves under the influence of Luini's harmonizing color into
one symphonious whole. But the places of distinction are reserved for
two great benefactors of the convent, Alessandro de' Bentivogli and his
wife, Ippolita Sforza. When the Bentivogli were expelled from Bologna by
the papal forces, Alessandro settled at Milan, where he dwelt, honored
by the Sforzas and allied to them by marriage, till his death in 1532.
He was buried in the monastery by the side of his sister Alessandra, a
nun of the order. Luini has painted the illustrious exile in his habit
as he lived. He is kneeling, as though in ever-during adoration of the
altar mystery, attired in a long black senatorial robe trimmed with
furs. In his left hand he holds a book; and above his pale, serenely
noble face is a little black berretta. Saints attend him, as though
attesting to his act of faith. Opposite kneels Ippolita, his wife, the
brilliant queen of fashion, the witty leader of society, to whom
Bandello dedicated his Novelle, and whom he praised as both incomparably
beautiful and singularly learned. Her queenly form is clothed from head
to foot in white brocade, slashed and trimmed with gold lace, and on her
forehead is a golden circlet. S