
The Last Supper (Tintoretto)
The table runs off on a steep diagonal into a smoky hall where servants clear plates and the lamp smoke thickens into angels.

The table runs off on a steep diagonal into a smoky hall where servants clear plates and the lamp smoke thickens into angels.

One boy has a card hidden behind his back and his older partner signals the count on his fingers. It got Caravaggio his first patron.
No profit grows where is no pleasure ta'en. In brief, sir, study what you most affect.
Against my soul's pure truth why labor you To make it wander in an unknown field?
It easeth some, though none it ever cur'd, To think their dolour others have endur'd.

Byrd was a Catholic in Protestant England, and wrote these to be sung in secret at private houses. They were printed without title pages.
Though men can cover crimes with bold stern looks, Poor women's faces are their own faults' books.
Beauty itself doth of itself persuade The eyes of men without an orator.
Sorrow concealed, like an oven stopped, Doth burn the heart to cinders where it is.