by Diane de Poitiers, it has not been quite finished. It now has that curious leaden colour which iron takes before it is russeted: the shield was never lined.
Yet another shield of this same form and indubitably from the same hand is in the Royal Armoury of Turin (Fig. 1323). It may be regarded as even a finer achievement than either of the Louvre shields, being perhaps a better composition, richer in its damascening, and perfect in condition. In the past, as in the case of nearly all these great pageant shields, Italy has had the credit of its production, and it almost goes without saying that Benvenuto Cellini was its supposed maker. Apart from the exact similarity as regards workmanship which it bears to those shields we have just described, we see on it the crescent-crowned head of Diana, the emblem dear to the heart of the French King, Henri II. Nothing definite appears known as to its past history; though it is vaguely suggested that it became an Italian royal possession as war booty, but more recent researches suggest that it was presented to the University of Turin by Princess Victoria of Saxony, niece and heiress of Prince Eugene of Savoy, in the middle of the XVIIIth century. The large central medallion, like the four smaller ones that surround it, is embossed with subjects that refer to Jugurtha and the wars waged against this African king by the Romans. As in the case of the Windsor shield a lengthy inscription in Latin surrounds each subject, giving us the true construction of each incident represented. This splendid shield retains its original lining.
Perhaps the most remarkable of this series of shields is the example preserved in the Imperial Armoury of Vienna (Fig. 1324). Shown there as having belonged to Charles V and stated to be of Italian workmanship, it has not yet, except by a few experts, been recognized as one of the most characteristic examples of our unknown French armourer's work. Though it resembles some decorative tablet rather than an example of pageant armour, we ourselves can recognize in it all those peculiarities of workmanship strongly developed, and—if we may use the phrase—tricks of design, to which we have alluded. It is made of superimposed plates attached to a common ground; its broken, kite-shaped outline being influenced by the position of the interlaced strapwork that constitutes its border. It could not possibly have belonged to the Emperor Charles V, for in our opinion it obviously dates far into the XVIth century, and is quite one of the armourer's latest known works, showing the eccentricities of his style carried to excess. Every excuse can be made for experts in the past in attributing the design of
