The work of Luca della Robbia was not confined to marble. Soon after completing the organ gallery he made a bronze door for the interior of the cathedral. He is best known for his work in enamelled terra-cotta, of which we shall hear more in later chapters. [Footnote 19: See Chapter III. in the volume on _Greek Sculpture_ in the Riverside Art Series.] [Footnote 20: Psalm lxviii., verse 25, and 1 Chronicles, chapter xiii., verse 8.] [Footnote 21: St. Matthew, chapter xxvi., verse 30.] [Footnote 22: The pontificate of Gregory I. was from 590 to 604.] VI TOMB OF ILARIA DEL CARRETTO (_Detail_) BY JACOPO DELLA QUERCIA A certain marquis of Carretto, living in Lucca at the close of the fourteenth century, had a daughter named Ilaria. Ilaria was like Helen of Troy, "a daughter of the gods, divinely tall and most divinely fair."[23] Her face was delicately cut in a patrician mould, and she carried her head with the air of a princess. The marquis must have been proud of his beautiful daughter, and as she grew into womanhood he looked about for a suitable match for her. There was little romance about marriages in those days, and when a rich widower sought Ilaria's hand, she was doubtless thought by all a very fortunate maiden. Her husband, Paolo Guinigi, was the signor or lord of the city of Lucca, and though somewhat despotic in temper was at least without vices. He was besides the richest man in Italy. In his treasury, says the historian, "diamonds and rubies, emeralds and pearls, were counted by hundreds." The palace awaiting the bride was magnificently furnished. There was linen from Paris and other French cities, exquisite in quality and in stores so abundant as to delight the heart of a housewife. The walls were hung with tapestries of many colors woven in Arras. Priceless vessels of gold and silver adorned the table. Nor were signs of learning lacking. There was a library, well stocked with the works of classical authors, written in manuscript in the manner of the times. So far as surroundings make for happiness Ilaria may well have been a happy woman. We like to fancy her queenly figure moving through the stately apartments of the palace or on the green terraces of the garden. But she did not long enjoy the splendors of her surroundings, for two years after her marriage she died. Her husband then ordered of the sculptor Jacopo della Quercia a marble tomb to be placed in the cathedral. On the sarcophagus lay the portrait figure of the lady herself; the sides were richly carved with cherubs holding festoons of flowers, and above was a canopy.