This strange and awful memento of mortality was placed upon a pedestal of ebony, exquisitely ornamented with bas-reliefs and inlayings of silver and ivory.
By one of those striking contrasts which abounded throughout the whole of this strange apartment, the ornamental part of the pedestal by no means assimilated with the osseous spectacle it supported. On the contrary, the perfection of Florentine art, as it was in the fifteenth century, seemed expended on this master-piece of carving and sculpture. Nevertheless, the pure and exquisite style of the ornaments, charming as they were, bore reference to the gloomy object whose base they decorated. The figure of the skeleton, leaning one hand on a naked sword, and with the other supporting a lute, its head bearing an episcopal crown, and its foot a woman's shoe, was to be seen amidst all the varied and artistical combinations of design.
Thus Cupids, supported by the fabulous birds so much in favour during the Renaissance, resembling the eagle in the head and wings, and the syren in the capacious folds of their tail, were introduced as bearing the hideous skeleton in their tiny arms.
In another part was represented a group of nymphs, whose chastely elegant attitudes would have reflected no discredit on the sculptors of Greece itself, sporting beneath the walls of the richest and most splendid salons, while busying themselves in preparing the toilette of the grisly phantom; one graceful creature holding the sword, another the lyre, and a third presenting the mitre.
In a corner of this exquisite specimen of Florentine skill, two nymphs, gracefully designed, were represented as holding between them the sandals of the shoe, while a little Cupid, nestled in this Cinderella's slipper, was employing it as a swing.
During these fanciful preparations the skeleton, reclining on a Grecian couch, and half hidden by its flowing draperies, looked on, smiling with a ghastly smile at the sportive dances of the nymphs, whilst with its bony fingers it grasped a bouquet of roses presented by a group of lovely children. A small tripod of silver gilt, most elaborately wrought, was placed at the base of this pedestal, for the double purpose of serving as a lamp, and, likewise, a burner of perfumes.
If the remainder of the furniture of this spacious gallery was less remarkable for its incongruous mixture of gloomy and sportive ideas, it was not less worthy of notice from its singular combination; some of the articles meriting close attention from their extreme rarity, the others claiming observation from the extraordinary mutilation they had undergone.
A painting, placed in one of the divisions of the gallery, where but a dim, religious light stole in, represented a female of exquisite beauty, and by the freshness of the colouring, the half-concealed light, the perfect grace of the design, and softness of touch, it was easy to recognise the masterly hand of Leonardo da Vinci; but, alas! instead of the liquid, clear, expressive eye, to which that unrivalled artist had doubtless almost communicated life, two sharp, fine stilettos, or sharp, glittering blades of steel, shot forth from the sockets whence the eyes had been ruthlessly, barbarously torn. Could this fearful mutilation have been a mournful, yet ferocious jest, upon the ancient maxim in mythology, that "the eyes of beauty dart forth mortal arrows?"
It was impossible to view this outrage to a work of art, in itself a master-piece, without considerable indignation; but this sentiment was quickly forgotten in the admiration excited by a small white monument close adjoining, the ornaments of which were borrowed equally from the pagan and Christian mythology.
In a scroll, supported by Loves and Angels, were traced in letters of gold the names of Phidias and Raphael, beneath a sort of Prie-Dieu, the worn state of whose velvet cushion sufficiently attested its constant use, as though some fervent admirer of those two great and immortal geniuses was in the frequent habit of invoking their mighty inspirations in humble, supplicating entreaty, or of pouring forth his gratitude for the ineffable enjoyments which a taste for the sublime and beautiful is calculated to bestow upon man. And, indeed, various copies or engravings of the most celebrated cartoons of Raphael, placed side by side with fragments from the Parthenon, selected with perfect taste and correctness of judgment, gave evident proofs of an intimate acquaintance with, and a passion for, the fine arts, wholly irreconcilable with the barbarous mutilation of which we have before made mention.