Daughters of the Doge (22 page)

I stopped punching the furniture and sat down. Once again, Thomas had reason on his side.

‘But he makes me so mad.’

Thomas crossed the room and laid a hand on my arm. ‘Ignore it. Let it pass over you, for in truth it is a trivial thing. What would Lady Jane have said to you?’

I did not have to think for long. ‘She would have said exactly what you have said, then told me to consider the wider issues and to rise above petty squabbles.’

Thomas did not need to reply He simply tilted his head to one side and raised his shoulder to meet it. The gesture said ‘Exactly’ and I knew there was no more to say. Finally I rose.

‘Well, standing around won’t get anything done. I suppose I had better try to find another artist. It’s something to do, anyway. The answer must be to find an up-and-coming young painter who needs the work. I must go and search again.’

Thomas simply repeated his gesture. Sometimes he made me nearly as angry as the earl did.

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February the 23rd 1556 – Workshop of Veronese

Although the city of Venice was full of paintings, the list of reliable artists provided to me by Vannes was very short indeed. Paulo Caliari, originally from Verona, but now established in Venice and known by all as Veronese, was next, and I followed Vannes’s instructions carefully, looking for his workshop.

I had seen some of his recent work in the form of ceiling paintings in the Palazzo Ducale, completed only a year ago. Vannes had also told me to visit the Church of San Sebastiano, where the first of a set of planned paintings had just been delivered. Perhaps I would do so after talking to the artist.

Veronese’s workshop was quite modest – much smaller than Titian’s – and I nearly walked past it, before the smell of fresh paint made me turn and look again. I knocked gently on the door, dreading a repeat of my treatment by Claudio Manzi. Once again a young apprentice answered my knock. I was surprised to be led straight into the studio itself.

The atmosphere was quite different from Titian’s workshop: there were fewer assistants and fewer paintings in preparation, and the whole place had a much more relaxed feel about it. The apprentice apologized that his master was absent, but asked if I would speak to Giovanni, the
maestro
’s assistant. He joined me in the corner of the room, wiping paint from his hands with a rag.

I described the earl and the portrait he required and Giovanni wrote it all down carefully. His writing was slow and awkward, but eventually he had all the information he needed, and he began to relax.

‘I am sorry he is not here at the moment. He is on the mainland for a few weeks, at Maser, with Andrea Palladio. Palladio is to build a great villa there for Marc’ Antonio Barbaro. Veronese has secured the contract for the frescoes and also for some large oil paintings to go in the house. Once work starts, we are likely to move our whole workshop there for two or three years, and to live on site, but the design is not yet complete. Unfortunately, until Paulo returns, I cannot really give you any commitment about when we might start; it all depends on Marc’ Antonio Barbaro.’

I liked this workshop, the tidiness and the gentle good manners of Giovanni and the apprentice. There was none of the fear that seemed to rule Titian’s house.

‘How long have you been here?’ I asked.

‘Paulo came to Venice three years ago, and I joined him about six months later. This workshop is only temporary as we can’t commit to anything until we are sure about Barbaro. But don’t let that put you off: Paulo may only be twenty-eight, but he is very, very good. I am sure we can make a nice portrait for you. The cost for head and shoulders with hands would be fifty ducats, maybe sixty if the subject has difficult features; and we would need an advance for materials of, say, ten – or twenty, if he wants a lot of ultramarine, which is very expensive to import from Asia. It’s hard to be more precise until Paulo returns and sees your friend, but that will give you an indication.’

I thanked him for his friendly response and said I would pass the information on to the earl. As I left, he called after me.

‘Come back in a month. Paulo should have returned by then. Of course, if you are in a hurry, there’s always Tintoretto. He will make a bargain with anyone rather than lose the work, but if you come back to us, and we are available, I promise you will not be disappointed.’

I returned home with mixed feelings. I liked the straightforward truthfulness of Veronese’s workshop, but a month, with no certainty? The earl would not like that. I had to keep looking. Perhaps this man Tintoretto? They said I could make a bargain there, and fifty ducats, a year’s wages for a skilled man, was not a small sum, even for an earl.

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February the 26th 1556 – Venice Rialto, beside the Grand Canal

‘Richard, calm yourself We were standing beside the Grand Canal at Rialto, watching the men arguing over the new designs for the bridge, and once again, Thomas was trying to cool my blood.

‘Is that what he said? Exactly those words?’ I had stormed out of the house in a rage and Thomas had followed me, hoping I would not do anything rash.

‘His exact words were, “If you value my sponsorship, try harder.” I have had enough of this self-important posturing fool. He can find his own bloody “artisan” and I hope the painting makes him look like a bloody monkey.’

Thomas put his hand on my arm. ‘Lady Jane?’ It always worked. I stopped fuming and started thinking again. If only she were here to talk to.

Thomas led me to a tavern beside the canal. Here we could drink some wine, sit in the sun and (in my case) calm down. Thomas ordered some
prosecco
and put his feet up on a spare bench opposite us. For a moment he sat quietly, absorbing the warmth of the early-spring sun, but I knew he was preparing to talk, and I waited.

‘I know how you feel, Richard. From a physician’s point of view, he is unwell and getting worse. All I ask is that you consider him as a sick man, not as a bad one. I share your frustration, but I feel strongly that I cannot abandon him, as so many others have done in the past. The armed guards may have been reduced, but he is still in danger. Somehow – I am not sure how – I think this thing will resolve itself fairly soon. We have only been here for six weeks. Give it time. Do as I do and escape from his presence by finding other activities in the city. There is so much to do here, and so many good people to meet.’

I knew he was right, but at the same time I did not see why I should always retreat. ‘The issue that really concerns me, Thomas, is his bringing sponsorship into the conversation. We agreed to accompany him as companions and he for his part agreed to pay our expenses. It was an agreement that we undertook at his request. There is no question of sponsorship, and I resent the suggestion that there is.’

Thomas nodded. ‘You are half right. However, to be precise, we agreed to join him on this journey of our own free will and in response to his invitation, not his request. However, it’s a lawyer’s point and I, for one, do not want to spend a sunny day trading words with you.’

I nodded. Once again he was right.

‘And as for sponsorship, well . . . As far as I am concerned, I will judge the man by his actions. His words, as we know, are often mere bravado. How many times have we seen him take up a brave stance of mighty principle, only to back down two minutes later in the face of stark reality? The man is a dreamer, Richard, but while he continues to meet the terms of the bargain and pay all the expenses, I for one will put aside the niceties of detailed terms and conditions and satisfy myself with receiving the cash.’

‘And if he stops paying?’

‘Then I shall consider myself released from the bargain and travel to Padua.’

We watched as a large plank of timber fell from the bridge, much to the consternation of a gondolier who was passing below at the time.

‘Perhaps you are being over-sensitive, Richard. He’s right. There must be other artisans. They can’t all be designing that bridge.’

I felt my heart sink. From my point of view, the whole purpose of this conversation had been for Thomas to agree that the problem was Courtenay’s unreasonableness and to indicate a way out of this imprisonment. Yet all he seemed to be doing was taking the earl’s side. Sometimes I found his balanced reasonableness more infuriating than any argument. I lifted my glass. Thank you, Thomas; I thought you were on my side. The words echoed through my head, but I stopped myself from saying them. I needed one friend in this city and arguing with him now was not going to help my cause. Perhaps he was right. That was what was so maddening about Thomas: he usually was right. I glared at him and he smiled back, as if he could hear every thought going through my head.

Thomas raised his glass back to mine in mock-salute. ‘Life’s a bugger. Then you die.’

This time we both laughed.

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