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But the court-artist would not let him go. He knew how to maintain his composure, and even admitted that Ulrich must travel, but said it was still too soon. He must first finish the work he had undertaken in the riding-school, then he himself would smooth the way to Italy for him. To leave him, so heavily burdened, in the lurch now, would be treating him ungratefully and basely.
But the court-artist would not let him go. He knew how to maintain his composure, and even admitted that Ulrich must travel, but said it was still too soon. He must first finish the work he had undertaken in the riding-school, then he himself would smooth the way to Italy for him. To leave him, so heavily burdened, in the lurch now, would be treating him ungratefully and basely.
Philip left the studio, the court-artist accompanying him to the door. When he returned, the unhappy youth was still standing in the same place, gazing, panting for breath, at his condemned work. "Poor fellow!" said Coello, compassionately, approaching him; but Ulrich interrupted, gasping in broken accents: "And you, you? Your verdict!"
Philip left the studio, the court-artist accompanying him to the door. When he returned, the unhappy youth was still standing in the same place, gazing, panting for breath, at his condemned work. "Poor fellow!" said Coello, compassionately, approaching him; but Ulrich interrupted, gasping in broken accents: "And you, you? Your verdict!"
What reception could he expect? The court-artist might easily shrink from coming in contact with the pupil of Moor, who had now lost the sovereign's favor. Coello was a very different man from the Master, a child of the moment, varying every day.
With these words she shut her fan so abruptly, that it snapped loudly, and tripped on. Ulrich shrugged his shoulders, then turned to the porter more courteously, and this time succeeded in his purpose; for the artist Coello's body-servant came out of the treasury, and willingly announced him to his master, who now, as court-artist, occupied Moor's quarters.
With these words she shut her fan so abruptly, that it snapped loudly, and tripped on. Ulrich shrugged his shoulders, then turned to the porter more courteously, and this time succeeded in his purpose; for the artist Coello's body-servant came out of the treasury, and willingly announced him to his master, who now, as court-artist, occupied Moor's quarters.
The court-artist obtained from the latter a promise to present his pupil Navarrete to the grey-Haired prince of artists. Everything was now ready for departure; Ulrich again packed his belongings in the studio, but with very different feelings from the first time. He was a man, he now knew what the right "word" was, life lay open before him, and the paradise of Art was about to unclose its gates.
Philip left the studio, the court-artist accompanying him to the door. When he returned, the unhappy youth was still standing in the same place, gazing, panting for breath, at his condemned work. "Poor fellow!" said Coello, compassionately, approaching him; but Ulrich interrupted, gasping in broken accents: "And you, you? Your verdict!"
But the court-artist would not let him go. He knew how to maintain his composure, and even admitted that Ulrich must travel, but said it was still too soon. He must first finish the work he had undertaken in the riding-school, then he himself would smooth the way to Italy for him. To leave him, so heavily burdened, in the lurch now, would be treating him ungratefully and basely.
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