I thought I understood this painting:

 

 

 

 

A medieval courtship chess game between the black knight and the buxom woman across from him. These are the initial moves, the contest is not decided, the knight's sword remains sheathed on his back. The buxom woman however is winning. She has captured a number of the knight's pieces which are off board.

There is a whole language of flowers, there are books written on it, but the undersigned is illiterate in said language. A flower is usually symbolic of femininity. This is a complex painting, the artist has thought through every brush stroke, so the flower means something. Even its species likely has a specific meaning.

The knight however is fatally distracted by a young woman with come-hither eyes (women always fall for men in uniform). The buxom woman looks like she's playing a piece but on closer examination she's trying to draw the knight's attention back to the game, and to her, by tapping his sleeve. It all fits the theme. 

Seeing the danger of her position, two seconds, the wide-eyed young woman over her left shoulder and the jester at bottom right appear to be counseling her on her next move, although the wide-eyed woman is not speaking.

The knight seems to be getting advice as well, from his red-plumed friend at extreme top right. His mouth is as if he is speaking but his eyes are on the young woman. Some ambiguity.

The two other men in the painting, at top center, are not knights. What their vocation is I do not know. However, they occupy a position directly between the black night and the buxom woman, like they are referees or judges evaluating the courtship game and prepared to call in and out and faults. Neither appears to be pleased. The judge in foreground looks down in seeming sadness, the judge in background looks away as if dazed.

Taking it all in however, I thought I understood the painting. However then I noticed, I don't know how I didn't notice previously, the left arm of the buxom woman.

The sleeve ruffle points inward; the ruffle on her right arm folds back. A grotesque, green, reptilian hand with pointy fingers protrudes from the left arm sleeve. It is not a detail, it is prominent; it is not ambiguous, it is unmistakably hideous and menacing. And it flummoxes my understanding of the entire work.