Schiavone, Bonifazio, Campagnola, I could not live here. I must have the Moretto, and Moroni; who can count sea, them, And the sea-mist, with sunshine inter- Or measure their ambition? Woven Like cloth of gold; must have beneath my windows TITIAN. When we are gone, The generation that comes after us Will serve to build their palaces or They will possess the world that we think ours, And fashion it far otherwise. MICHAEL ANGELO. I hear And more, that you were present, And saw the showery Jove from high Olympus Your son Orazio and your nephew Marco Descend in all his splendor. Mentioned with honor. TITIAN. TITIAN. From your lips Such words are full of sweetness. Ay, brave lads, brave lads. MICHAEL ANGELO. in Venice, You have caught But time will show. There is a youth One Paul Cagliari, called the Veronese, These golden hues from your Venetian Still a mere stripling, but of such rare promise sunsets. That we must guard our laurels, or may Possibly. lose them. TITIAN. MICHAEL ANGELO. |