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Updated: July 17, 2025
You are poisoning my happiness, you you... the croaker's voice is disagreeable to me." Isabella sadly bent her head in silence. Ulrich approached her, saying: "I do not wish to wound you, Belita; indeed, I do not. You mean well, and you love me, a poor forsaken fellow; do you not, little girl?" "Yes, Ulrich, and that is just why I have told you what I think.
If you have become what I hope, I'll give her to you; if not, you can quietly go your way. You will make no objection to this, you silly little, love-sick thing. Go to your room now, Belita, and you, Navarrete, come with me." Ulrich followed the artist to his chamber, where the latter opened a chest, in which lay the gold he had earned.
You will then be no great artist and you can, you must become one." "I will, Belita, I will!" "Well, well; but first be a pupil! If I were in your place, I would, for aught I care, go to Venice and look about me, but from there I would ride to Flanders, to Moor, to the master." "Give up Italy? Can you be in earnest?
He had opened his arms wide, and now hastily approached her with the eager look of the gambler, who has staked his last penny on a card. Coello's daughter did not obey. She was no longer little, unassuming Belita; here stood no child, but a beautiful, blooming maiden.
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