They're the three best friends that anyone could have. Barbaro and Veronese were BFFs, with their three-way bromance completed by local architect Palladio.

The Veneto magnate is single-beardedly responsible for throwing commissions toward both Veronese and Palladio, landing each right in the lap of utter, decadent success. Veronese's spoils from his schmoozing with Barbaro even included a fly as hell gold chain awarded by none other than grand master Titian for the decoration of a famous library.

So, obviously, when Veronese is called to portray his good friend and breadwinner, he really lays on the visual kudos for a life spent making the world a better-educated place. Barbaro was a leading scholar of Aristotelian physics, but was most concerned with merging the fields of philosophy, the arts, and the sciences in a way that people could actually benefit from. Venice made him ambassador to England for a time before granting him local titles of power and authority until he, finally, was put in charge of the history of the Republic. Nerd alert aside, how many people do you know get told they're in charge of every fact about America? No one. There's no position like that now because we'd get things worse than what the rednecks in Texas do to primary school textbook standards.

But, if we're to take Veronese's opinion as anything, Barbaro was up to the responsibility. In this portrait, he's gussied up in the clothing of a scholar and is posed like Raphael's portrait of Pope Julius II. Cause, you know, he's a smart and holy guy. The book he holds is a mix of vertical integration and a shout out to Palladio. It's the translation of a tract on architecture by Roman scholar Vitruvius, translated by Barbaro and illustrated by Palladio.

Daniele was a Renaissance man squared:

1) He studied math, engineering, philosophy

2) He translated the works of the Roman architect Vitrivius, and then himself became one of the top architects in Venice

3) He was ambassador to England

4) He became a cardinal, and served on the Council of Trent (a club of Catholic bigwigs in charge of dissing Protestants)

5) He collected astronomical instruments

On top of all of this, he was also modest, and gave up his share of his family's inheritance to his brother.  For this generosity, he was buried in an unmarked grave.

He looked very distinguished though, in his cardinal getup, surrounded by architectural drawings and books. Although we have to wonder why the last two buttons of his crop top are undone...

His beard is epic, his dress- not so much.