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And what of Rembrandt is so perfect as his Saskia with the Pink at Dresden?
It's time we're wantin', and the longer they think we're a' in the auld Tower the better for us. What news o' the polis?" He listened to Sir Archie's report with a gloomy face. "Not afore the darkenin'? They'll be ower late the polis are aye ower late. It looks as if we had the job to do oursels. What's your notion?" "God knows," said the baronet, whose eyes were on Saskia. "What's yours?"
She was not a great woman, but she was good, which is better, and she filled her husband's heart to the brim. Those first few years of their married life read like a fairy-tale. He bought her jewels, laces, elegant costumes, and began to fill their charming home with many rare objects of art. All was for Saskia his life, his fortune, his work, his all.
Gardiner's collection, it is even more eloquent of the ease with which he managed his tools. Of a still greater charm, with subtler problems met and solved, is the portrait of Saskia van Ulenburgh, whom he married in Amsterdam in the year 1634, the probable date of the Cassel portrait.
The gale which roared in the chimney and eddied among the rafters of the hall seemed an infernal commotion in a tomb. "Let's go upstairs," he told Saskia; "there must be a view from the upper windows." "You can see the top of the old Tower, and part of the sea," she said. "I know it well, for it was my only amusement to look at it. On clear days, too, one could see high mountains far in the west."
Saskia was dead, his popularity gone; but the effect of these things was but to fill his heart with a world sympathy, with pity for all who sorrow. Again and again he treated the Christ at Emmaus, The Good Samaritan, and The Prodigal Son themes.
We've got the chance while Dobson and his friends are locked up. Let's get them as far away as we can from the sea. They're far safer tramping the moors, and it's no' likely the new folk will dare to follow us." "But I cannot go." Saskia, who had been listening intently, shook her head. "I promised to wait here till my friend came. If I leave I shall never find him."
He painted his own wives as often as Rembrandt painted Saskia; both were plump enough to make our memories recur with pleasure to the slenderer figures preferred by Botticelli and the painters of his school.
We have an inventory of the gorgeous pictures, the armour, the sculptures, and the jewels and dresses that had belonged to Saskia. His son Titus retained a little of his mother's money, and set up as an art dealer in order to help his father. It is a truly dreary scene, yet Rembrandt still continued to paint, because painting was to him the very breath of life.
He brought together all manner of Oriental arms, ancient fabrics, and gleaming jewellery; and his house became one of the sights of Amsterdam." His existence reads like a fairy tale. It is said that Saskia strutted about decked in gold and diamonds, till her relatives "shook their heads" in alarm and amazement at such wild goings on.
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