ger and
inquiring look is most happily shown. The sentiment of this bust is
quite out of the common; it has an engaging expression which is rare
in the sculpture of all ages, differing from what is called animation
or vivacity. These also may be found in the St. Laurence, where the
exact but indescribable movement of the face as he is about to speak
is rendered with immense skill. The bust, though modelled with a free
hand, is not carelessly executed; everything is in concord, and the
treatment of the clay shows exceptional dexterity, more so, at any
rate, than is the case in the St. Cecilia.[165] The name given to this
bust is traditional, there being no symbol to connect it with her; but
it suggests at least that the work was not meant purely as a portrait.
In technique and conception it is not quite equal to the St.
Laurence, but it is none the less a work of rare merit, and being
Donatello's only clay portrait in this country has a special value to
us. The Saint looks downwards, pensive, quiet and modest, the
embodiment of tranquillity and calm. There is no movement or effort
about her, neither does the work show any effort on the part of the
sculptor. It is equable in a very marked degree; the smooth regular
features are simple and well defined, and the hair, brushed back from
the forehead, has a softness which could scarcely be obtained in
marble. The bust known as Louis III. of Gonzaga is interesting in
another way: it is bronze and has been left in an unfinished state.
Two versions of it exist--one in Berlin, the other in Paris, belonging
to Madame Andre, the latter being perhaps the less ugly of the two. It
used to be known as Alfonso of Naples, on the assumption that
Donatello must surely have made a bust of that prince. This theory,
however, had to be abandoned, and it is now held to be a portrait of
the Gonzaga as being a closer resemblance to him than to Alfonso, or
Giovanni Tornabuoni. Mantegna's portrait of Gonzaga, though made
later, shows a rather different type, less displeasing than the
bronze. In the bust we have what is probably the portrait of a coarse
and clumsy person; he is petulant in the mouth, weak in the chin,
gross in the thick and heavy jaw. The bronze is extremely rough, and
shows no signs of the nervous and individual touches which we find in
Donatello's terra-cotta. Both the busts are unfinished; in the absence
of chasing and hammering they are covered with bubbles and splotches
of meta