"Bravo, Tiziano!" called some one from another craft. The canal took up the cry. "Bravo, bravo! Bravo,—Tiziano!"
Titian raised his painter's cap and returned the salute. He stood with one foot on the parapet, looking down and smiling with easy grace, at the pleasure-loving crowd below. A man came in sight around the corner of the Fondaco, walking slowly and looking up at the picture as he came.
"Well?" Titian glanced at him keenly.
"Great!" responded Giorgione heartily. "The Judith bears the light well, and when the scaffolding is down it will be better yet.... Venice will be proud!" He laid his hand affectionately on the other's shoulder and motioned toward the throng of boats that had halted below, gazing at the glowing wall.
"To-day Titian—to-morrow another!" said Titian a little bitterly.
"Why care?" responded Giorgione. "Some one to-day told me that my Judith, on the south wall here, surpasses all my other work together." He laughed cordially.
Titian looked at him keenly. His face had flushed a little under the compliment. "It is like you not to care," he said affectionately.
"Care! Why should I care—so that the work is done?" His eyes rested lovingly on the façade. "It is marvellous—that trick of light," he said wonderingly.... "You must teach it to me."
Titian laughed under his breath. "I learned it from you."
Giorgione shook his head. "Not from me...." he replied doubtingly. "If you learned it from me, others would learn from me." He stood, looking up, lost in thought.