APPENDIX, 11 293

must be first examined. It is said by the Marchese Selvatico-on the authority, I believe, of an inscription which, as usual in Venice, is to be seen no more-to be that of a knight named Arnoldo Tentonino, who died in 1300. The general effect of this tomb, as it is seen by looking up at it steeply from below (the only possible way of seeing it in general), is given in Plate-[reference to intended illustration]. The reader will see in a moment that it is the simplest possible type of the Perfect Tomb, described above as composed of the sarcophagus, statue, and canopy. The sarcophagus is a plain oblong, not even divided into the double panel, but charged with eight shields, and surrounded by a dentiled moulding. Two shafts, one on each side of it, sustain its canopy-a low pointed arch, surmounted by the knight’s crest. There are no crockets, no pinnacles, no brackets even, beneath the sarcophagus; nothing but the members absolutely necessary, and those in their broadest and simplest form. But the way in which the few and bold divisions of the design are relieved and enriched by their decoration is in the highest degree instructive.

But before coming to these let the reader observe for a moment how the generalizations at which we arrived in the first volume include, as it was promised they should, all good architecture of all time. The type of aperture protection given in fig. 49¹ presupposed the apprehension of rain, and therefore the sharp gable is used above the pointed arch; but as in the sepulchral monument within the church we are under no fear of rain, we remove the unnecessary gable and foliations, leaving only the pointed arch, which is at once the strongest and simplest form in which we can build our canopy; and for the short bracket, which would not completely shelter the sides of the sarcophagus, we substitute the bracket d, fig. 39, p. 196, and we have our Arnoldo tomb. I wish it were possible, in as few words as are necessary to explain the construction of this monument, to give the reader an idea of its beautiful feeling.

I do not know any other tomb in Venice of which the conception is so beautiful; of its execution I find it exceedingly difficult to arrive at a just estimate. Examined close, the sculpture, both of the knight’s countenance and of the St. Joseph, is utterly hard and cold; and it appears rash to assume that the perfect effect which, in spite of this, the monument possesses, when seen at the right distance, was calculated upon with absolute precision by its sculptor. Something is to be allowed for the obscurity of the chapel, and for the mystery with which the fading colours which once illuminated, have now veiled, the arch of the tomb itself. But I never yet saw a design, essentially poor or mean, rendered impressive or sublime by distance; and the outlines of the breast and body are so thoroughly fine, lines which in monuments of this early date nearly always show failure of power, that I believe we should be unjust in attributing the harshness of the features altogether to the sculptor’s incapability. Even if it were so, the skill of the treatment, both of the larger lines and of the flower mouldings, alone renders this monument an example of sculptural execution not a little extraordinary at the period, and of which our estimate will increase continually as we examine the working of the several parts more closely. [A description of various architectural details follows, not intelligible without the intended illustrations.] The ornament, as above

¹ [Vol. IX. p. 236, of this edition.]

[Version 0.04: March 2008]