'It is long since we saw each other, Maître Léonard,' he said. 'How is your health? Do you paint much? Have you done many new pictures? What is that one?' and he pointed to the curtained Monna Lisa.
'An old portrait, sire, which your Majesty has already seen.'
'Let me see it again. The oftener one sees your pictures the more one admires them.'
The painter hesitated, but to his annoyance a courtier removed the veil, and La Gioconda was revealed.
The king, throwing himself on a chair, gazed long without a word. 'Marvellous!' he exclaimed at last. 'That is the fairest woman I ever saw! Who is she?'
'Madonna Lisa, wife of a Florentine citizen.'
'Did you paint it lately?'
'Ten years ago.'
'Is she still beautiful?'
'Sire, she is dead.'