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We shall turn ourselves upside down for you." "I cannot see how all these things can be," said Van Eyck. "Fear not, my promise will endure." The leaves of the branch rustled for another moment. Then, all was still, until the Moss Maiden and Trintje, the Tree Elf, again, hand in hand, as they tripped along merrily, appeared to him. "We shall help you and get our friends, the elves, to do the same.
His well-drawn forms are decided without being hard, and his warm and transparent colouring recalls the great masters of the Venetian School. Dr Waagen thus summarises the history of painting in the Netherlands during the interval of about a century and a half that elapsed between the death of Jan van Eyck in 1440 and the birth of PETER PAUL RUBENS in 1577.
Then he lowered his glass and swept the assembled officers of his staff with an indignant glare. "Ten Eyck!" he grunted. An infantry colonel came to attention. "Yes, sir." Cogswell said heavily, deliberately. "Under a white flag. A dispatch to Baron Haer. My compliments and request for his terms. While you're at it, my compliments also to Captain Joseph Mauser." Zwerdling was bug-eyeing him.
One of his favourite sayings was "He who occupies himself with the things of Christ, must ever dwell with Christ." It is related that, in the Monastery of Maes Eyck, while the illuminators were at work in the evening, copying Holy Writ, the devil, in a fit of rage, extinguished their candles; they, however, were promptly lighted again by a Breath of the Holy Spirit, and the good work went on!
His appearance did not alarm him. He was invisible. Lloyd George and Clémenceau might have called. Mr. Ten Eyck Jones was not at home, sir. If necessary he was dead. Always, while he dressed, his servant put, unseen, a tray on the workshop table and, still unseen, disappeared. With the tray was the morning paper and the usual letters, which Jones never read. Morning in the workshop meant work.
John Van Eyck, who had lived late enough to have departed from the painting of sacred pictures alone, so that he left portraits and an otter hunt among his works, is three times represented in our National Gallery, in three greatly esteemed portraits, one a double portrait, believed to be the likenesses of the painter and his wife, standing hand in hand with a terrier dog at their feet.
A Holy Mother withdrawing the cloth from the naked body of the sleeping child, and Joseph and John gazing on the sleeper; the figures, large as life, were represented by an old Roman master, so nobly and gracefully as to baffle all description. But well might I seek words to give but a faint conception of that matchless Van Eyck, an Annunciation, which was perhaps the crown of the collection.
Then he abruptly sat down at the opposite end of the couch. As he did so, she thought she heard him mutter something about "one hundred and seventy, at the lowest." "So many people have given up playing golf, Mr. Ten Eyck," she said. "I am surprised that you keep it up." "Golf?" he murmured blankly. "Weren't you speaking of your score for the eighteen holes?"
Nothing was said on either side; or, if aught were said, it was whispered, and was of a nature too sacred to be communicated to others. In that attitude did this young woman, long so coy and so difficult to decide, remain for near an hour, and in that quiet, cherishing, womanly embrace, did Guert Ten Eyck breathe his last.
A long white finger was extended by the Van Eyck in a line with the speaker's eye, and an agitated voice bade him stand, in the name of all the saints. "You are beautiful, so," cried she. "You are inspired with folly. What matters that? you are inspired. I must take off your head." And in a moment she was at work with her pencil.
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