Given the considerable attention accorded to the drawings of Titian and his circle over the past few decades, it is surprising that the sheet presented in this article (Fig.4) has apparently never been mentioned in the Titian literature, let alone fully published.' Yet it has been in the collection of the Royal Print Room in Copenhagen, part of the Statens Museum for Kunst, since 1960 and has an attribution to Titian dating back at least to the mid-eighteenth century. The basic premise of this article is that the traditional attribution is correct, even though no particularly compelling comparisons can be offered from among the slim corpus of generally accepted Titian drawings. The connoisseurship of Titian's drawings has long been a scholarly minefield and any pro- posed new attribution to him is likely to be met with scepticism. Whether or not the following arguments in support of Titian's authorship of the drawing are found persuasive, it is hoped that students of cinquecento Venetian art will agree that it is of sufficient intrinsic quality and interest to warrant its publication here.

The Art Institute of Chicago recently acquired Pompeo Batoni's Peace and War, an allegorical work completed in 1776 (Fig. 10). Although Batoni is now best known for his portraits of Grand Tourists in Rome, during his lifetime (1708-87) his mythological or historical paintings and allegories were highly appreciated by elite collectors through much of Europe. Peace and War, created when Batoni was at the summit of his artistic power and reputation, was described by contemporary critics as one of the artist's most successful works.

In the first part of this article we traced the origins of the second Baron Northwick's collecting during his extended travels as a young man in Italy and the way in which he graduated from being an important speculator in famous paintings to a collector on a large scale. Having filled the new gallery that he built at Northwick Park, the family seat, Lord Northwick's appetite for collecting and building found a new outlet in Cheltenham.

Wen Neil Maclaren in 1960 and Christopher Brown in 1991 published their respective catalogues of the Dutch School paintings in the National Gallery, both eliminated the possibility of a provenance from the convent of the Unshod Carmelites of San Hermenegildo in Madrid for the painting variously attributed to Rembrandt or his early pupil Gerrit Dou (1613-75), or perceived as a collaboration between them, Anna and the blind Tobit (Fig.34).' Although such a painting had been described in the convent by Antonio Ponz in his Viage de Espana in the late eighteenth century, the only illumination in the room depicted, according to Ponz, emanated from the fireplace.2 As this is plainly not the case in the London work, Maclaren and Brown logically assumed that the erudite Spaniard had seen a different version.

The zeal with which Giambattista Tiepolo's modelli were collected, not only during the artist's lifetime but also in subsequent generations, has rightly been taken as a measure of their exceptional quality.' Except for a few sketches made for church officials - who were evidently more inclined to keep them - most of Tiepolo's modelli seem to have reverted to the artist rather than being retained by the patrons responsible for the commissions. The artist was therefore free to do with them whatever he chose, and there is evidence that he sometimes sold them many years after having painted them, or occasionally gave them to friends. The names of a few collectors and dealers who managed to obtain modelli during the artist's lifetime are well known: Tiepolo's friend and sponsor, Francesco Algarotti, owned thirteen, at least a few of which had been gifts from the artist, when his collection was catalogued a few years after the artist's death in 1770,2 and the Swedish Count Carl GustafTessin purchased at least two directly from Tiepolo as early as 1736.3