A. No, my most Illustrious Sirs; I do not pretend to prove it, but I had not thought that I was doing wrong; I had never taken so many things into consideration. I had been far from imagining such a great disorder, all the more as I had placed these buffoons outside the room in which Our Lord was sitting. These things having been said, the judges pronounced that the aforesaid Paolo should be obliged to correct his picture within the space of three months from the date of the reprimand, according to the judgments and decision of the Sacred Court, and altogether at the expense of the said Paolo. Et ita decreverunt omni melius modo. (And so they decided everything for the best!) The existing picture proves that Veronese paid no attention to the recommendations of the Court, for I find that it contains every figure referred to. After this brief review of the more serious offices of the Republic, I pass on to speak of a tribunal which, though in reality much less serious, gave itself airs of great solemnity, and promulgated a great number of laws. This was the Court of the ‘Provveditori delle Pompe,’ established in the sixteenth century to deal with matters of dress and fashion. As far back as the end of the thirteenth century, the ‘Savi,’ the wise men of the government, had feebly deplored the increase of luxury. Their plaintive remarks were repeated at short intervals, and on each occasion produced some new decree against foolish and unreasonable expenditure. [Illustration: THE LAST RAYS, ST. MARK’S] The length of women’s trains, the size and fulness of people’s sleeves, the adornment of boots and shoes, and all similar matters, had been most minutely studied by these wise gentlemen, and the avogadors had their hands full to make the regulations properly respected. One day a lady was walking in the square of Saint Mark’s, evidently very proud of the new white silk [Sidenote: _Molmenti, vita Priv._] gown she wore. She was stopped by two avogadors who gravely proceeded to measure the amount of stuff used in making her sleeves. It was far more than the law judged necessary. The lady and her tailor--there were only male dressmakers in Venice in the fifteenth and sixteenth centuries--were both made to pay a fine heavy enough to make them regret the extravagance of their fancy. I quote this story from Signor Molmenti. Marin Sanudo tells of another similar regulation in his journal under the month of December 1491: ‘All those who hold any office from the State, and those who are finishing their term of service, are forbidden to give more than two dinner-parties to their relations, and each of these dinners shall not consist of more than ten covers.’