evidently caused the artist
much trouble, for _pentimenti_ are frequent, and other outlines can be
distinctly traced through the nude body. The effect of this clumsy
figure is far from satisfactory; the limbs are not articulated
distinctly; moreover, the balance of the whole composition is seriously
threatened by the tragedy being enacted at the side instead of in the
middle. The artist appears to have felt this difficulty so much that he
stopped short at this point; at any rate, the living child remains
unrepresented, nor is there any second child such as is required to
illustrate the story. It looks as though the scheme was not carefully
worked out before commencing, and that the artist found himself in
difficulties at the last, when he had to introduce the dramatic motive,
which apparently was not to his taste.

Now, all this fits in exactly with what we know of Giorgione's
temperament; lyrical by nature, he would shrink from handling a great
dramatic scene, and if such a task were imposed upon him he would
naturally treat three-fourths of the subject in his own fantastic way,
and do his best to illustrate the action required in the remaining part.
The result would be (what might be expected) forced or stagey, and the
action rhetorical, and that is exactly what has happened in this
"Judgment of Solomon."

It is a natural inference that, supposing Giorgione to be the painter,
he would never have selected such a subject of his own free will to be
treated, as this is, on so large a scale. There may be, therefore,
something in the suggestion which Crowe and Cavalcaselle make that this
may be the large canvas ordered of Giorgione for the audience chamber
of the Council, "for which purpose," they add, "the advances made to him
in the summer of 1507 and in January 1508 show that the work he had
undertaken was of the highest consequence."[30]

Be this as it may, the picture was in Venice, in the Casa Grimani di
Santo Ermagora,[31] in Ridolfi's day (1646), and that writer specially
mentions the unfinished executioner. It passed later into the
Marescalchi Gallery at Bologna, where it was seen by Lord Byron (1820),
and purchased at his suggestion by his friend Mr. Bankes, in whose
family it still remains.[32]

It will be gathered from what I have written that Giorgione and no other
is, in my opinion, the author of this remarkable work. Certain of the
figures are reminiscent of those by him elsewhere--e.g. the old man with