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Updated: June 8, 2025
The Prado is laid out in many avenues, leading in various directions to the suburbs, and these are planted with wild almond trees, which afford a pleasant shade. It is well kept, and creditable to the city. In passing the crowds of carriages very little display of female beauty is observed, and although well-dressed above, one cannot but revert to their wearing no stockings beneath.
There are two of these establishments, one situated in the Binondo quarter, and the other on the great square or Prado; in the former, which was visited by us, there are two buildings of two stories high, besides several storehouses, enclosed by a wall, with two large gateways, at which sentinels are always posted.
"Werry like, but the Bacchanal Queen has got to lead off the last dance in the Prado." "I wish to thunder I'd 'a known that, and I'd 'a stayed there to see her my beloved Queen!" "Gobinet; if you call her your beloved Queen again, I'll scratch you! Here's a pinch for you, anyhow!" "Ow, wow, Celeste! hands off!
The beautiful Virgin and Child with SS. Ulfo and Brigida, placed in the Sala de la Reina Isabel of the Prado, is now at last officially restored to Titian, after having been for years innumerable ascribed to Giorgione, whose style it not more than generally recalls. Here at any rate all the rival wise men are agreed, and it only remains for the student of the old masters, working to-day on the solid substructure provided for him by his predecessors, to wonder how any other attribution could have been accepted. But then the critic of the present day is a little too prone to be wise and scornful
Don John of Austria and the King of Spain set so great a value upon his pictures that they built a gallery set apart to preserve them there are no less than fifty-two in the Prado Gallery to-day. His principal talent was landscape adorned with small figures. He painted men drinking and smoking, alchemists, corps de garde, temptations of S. Anthony, and country fairs and merry-makings.
And again it was work that sent us, now each on a safety bicycle a change that explains how time was flying by the canals and on the flat roads of Belgium and Holland; into Germany, through the Harz with Heine for guide, by the castled Rhine and Moselle that may have lost their reputation for a while but that can never lose their loveliness; into Austria, on to Hungary, up in the Carpathians and to those heights from which the Russian Army but the other day looked down upon the Hungarian plain; into Spain, to sun-burnt Andalusia, for weeks in the Alhambra, to windy Madrid, for days in the Prado; into Switzerland, the "Playground of Europe," where our work must have seemed more than ever like play as we climbed, on our cycles and on foot, over the highest of the high Alpine passes, one after the other; again into Italy; again into France; again through England; again but they were too numerous to count, all those journeys that claimed so many of my days and taught me, while I worked, all I have learned of Europe.
To much about the same time, judging from the handling and the types, belongs the curious allegory, Religion succoured by Spain otherwise La Fé now No. 476 in the gallery of the Prado.
Every mother's son of us swimming in money!" as he guaranteed with his hand upon his heart. But Rafael's gaze was lost in the distant reaches of the Prado, to catch one more fleeting glimpse of a golden head of hair proof of Leonora's presence still! He found it hard to be courteous, even, to this man who, according to authentic rumor, was destined to be his father-in-law.
But meanwhile the master demanded that people should remember his name for his earlier works, that they should admire him for what he had already produced. He was irritated at the papers, which extolled the younger generation, remembered him only to mention him in passing, like a consecrated glory, like a man who was dead and had his pictures in the Museo del Prado.
All my life long I had been laboring under the delusion that a uniform is merely a uniform. But one lives and learns. There are few left, I suppose, who have not heard that gray-bearded story of the American in the Philippines who called his native servant and commanded: "Juan, va fetch the caballo from the prado and and oh, saddle and bridle him. Damn such a language anyway!
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