This picture is at Turin, and is of quite inestimable value. It is hung
high; and the really principal figure--the Solomon, being in the shade,
can hardly be seen, but is painted with Veronese's utmost tenderness, in
the bloom of perfect youth, his hair golden, short, crisply curled. He
is seated high on his lion throne; two elders on each side beneath him,
the whole group forming a tower of solemn shade. I have alluded,
elsewhere, to the principle on which all the best composers act, of
supporting these lofty groups by some vigorous mass of foundation. This
column of noble shade is curiously sustained. A falconer leans forward
from the left-hand side, bearing on his wrist a snow-white falcon, its
wings spread, and brilliantly relieved against the purple robe of one of
the elders. It touches with its wings one of the golden lions of the
throne, on which the light also flashes strongly; thus forming, together
with it, the lion and eagle symbol, which is the type of Christ,
throughout mediæval work. In order to show the meaning of this symbol,
and that Solomon is typically invested with the Christian royalty, one
of the elders by a bold anachronism, holds a jewel in his hand in the
shape of a cross, with which he (by accident of gesture) points to
Solomon; his other hand is laid on an open book.

[Illustration: THE QUEEN OF SHEBA.
_Veronese._]

The group opposite, of which the Queen forms the centre, is also painted
with Veronese's highest skill; but contains no point of interest bearing
on our present subject, except its connection by a chain of descending
emotion. The Queen is wholly oppressed and subdued; kneeling, and nearly
fainting, she looks up to Solomon with tears in her eyes; he, startled