ved a present of a thousand crowns
of gold, and the artist was made a cavalier, or knight, by his
majesty, with a revenue of two hundred crowns yearly, secured on the
treasury of Naples, and attached to his title.

When Titian painted Filippo, King of Spain, the son of Charles, he
received another annuity of two hundred crowns; so that these four
hundred, added to the three hundred from the German Exchange, make him
a fixed income of seven hundred crowns, which he possesses without the
necessity of exerting himself in any manner. Titian presented the
portraits of Charles V. and his son Filippo to the Duke Cosimo, who
has them now in his Guardaroba. He also took the portrait of
Ferdinand, King of the Romans, who was afterward emperor, with those
of his children, Maximilian, that is to say, now emperor, and his
brother; he likewise painted the Queen Maria; and at the command of
the Emperor Charles, he portrayed the Duke of Saxony, when the latter
was in prison. But what a waste of time is this! when there has
scarcely been a noble of high rank, scarcely a prince or lady of great
name, whose portrait has not been taken by Titian, who in that branch
of art is indeed an excellent painter.

All these works, with many others which I omit to avoid prolixity,
have been executed up to the present age of our artist, which is above
seventy-six years. Titian has been always healthy and happy; he has
been favored beyond the lot of most men, and has received from Heaven
only favors and blessings. In his house he has entertained whatever
princes, literati, or men of distinction have gone to or dwelt in
Venice; for, to say nothing of his excellence in art, he has always
distinguished himself by courtesy, hospitality, and rectitude.

Titian has had some rivals in Venice, but not of any great ability,
wherefore he has easily overcome them by the superiority of his art;
while he has also rendered himself acceptable to the gentlemen of the
city. He has gained a fair amount of wealth, his labors having always
been well paid; and it would have been well if he had worked for his
amusement alone during these latter years, that he might not have
diminished the reputation gained in his best days by works of inferior
merit, performed at a period of life when nature tends inevitably to
decline, and consequent imperfection.

In the year 1566, when Vasari, the writer of the present history, was
at Venice, he went to visit Titian, as one who was h