CHAPTER XX.

Towards noon Coello called Ulrich into Moor’s former studio; the youth could not fail to observe its altered appearance.

Long cartoons, containing sketches of figures, large paintings, just commenced or half-finished, leaned against the easels; mannikins, movable wooden horse’s heads, and plaster-models stood on the floor, the tables, and in the windows.  Stuffs, garments, tapestries, weapons hung over the backs of the chairs, or lay on chests, tables and the stone-floor.  Withered laurel-wreaths, tied with long ribbons, fluttered over the mantel-piece; one had fallen, dropped over the bald head of Julius Caesar, and rested on the breast.

The artist’s six cats glided about among the easels, or stretched their limbs on costly velvet and Arabian carpets.

In one corner stood a small bed with silk curtains—­the nursery of the master’s pets.  A magnificent white cat was suckling her kittens in it.

Two blue and yellow cockatoos and several parrots swung screaming in brass hoops before the open window, and Coello’s coal-black negro crept about, cleaning the floor of the spacious apartment, though it was already noon.  While engaged in this occupation, he constantly shook his woolly head, displaying his teeth, for his master was singing loudly at his work, and the gaily-clad African loved music.

What a transformation bad taken place in the Netherlander’s quiet, orderly, scrupulously neat studio!  But, even amid this confusion, admirable works were created; nay, the Spaniard possessed a much more vivid imagination, and painted pictures, containing a larger number of figures and far more spirited than Moor’s, though they certainly were not pervaded by the depth and earnestness, the marvellous fidelity to nature, that characterized those of Ulrich’s beloved master.

Coello called the youth to the easel, and pointing to the sketches in color, containing numerous figures, on which he was painting, said: 

“Look here, my son.  This is to be a battle of the Centaurs, these are Parthian horsemen;—­Saint George and the Dragon, and the Crusaders are not yet finished.  The king wants the Apocalyptic riders too.  Deuce take it!  But it must be done.  I shall commence them to-morrow.  They are intended for the walls and ceiling of the new winter riding-school.  One person gets along slowly with all this stuff, and I--I.....The orders oppress me.  If a man could only double, quadruple himself!  Diana of Ephesus had many breasts, and Cerberus three heads, but only two hands have grown on my wrists.  I need help, and you are just the person to give it.  You have had nothing to do with horses yet, Isabella tells me; but you are half a Centaur yourself.  Set to work on the steeds now, and when you have progressed far enough, you shall transfer these sketches to the ceiling and walls of the riding-school.  I will help you perfect the thing, and give it the finishing touch.”