"My portrait, which I began to paint yesterday, will be finished here.

Hand me the mirror, the maul-stick, and the colors." The picture was a superb likeness, absolutely faultless.

The pure brow curved in lofty arches at the temples, the small eyes looked as clear and bright as they did in the mirror, the firm mouth shaded by a thin moustache, seemed as if it were just parting to utter a friendly word.
The close-shaven beard on the cheeks and chin rested closely upon the white ruff, which seemed to have just come from under the laundresses' smoothing-iron.
How rapidly and firmly the master guided his brush! And Sophonisba, whom Moor distinguished by such a gift, how was he to imagine her?
The other five sisters too! For their sakes he first anticipated with pleasure the arrival at Madrid.
In Bayonne the artist left the baggage-wagon behind.

His luggage was put on mules, and when the party of travellers started, it formed an imposing caravan.
Ulrich expressed his surprise at such expenditure, and Moor answered kindly: "Pellicanus says: 'Among fools one must be a fool.' We enter Spain as the king's guests, and courtiers have weak eyes, and only notice people who give themselves airs." At Fuenterrabia, the first Spanish city they reached, the artist received many honors, and a splendid troop of cavalry escorted him thence to Madrid.
Moor came as a guest to King Philip's capital for the third time, and was received there with all the tokens of respect usually paid only to great noblemen.
His old quarters in the treasury of the Alcazar, the palace of the kings of Castile, were again assigned to him.

They consisted of a studio and suite of apartments, which by the monarch's special command, had been fitted up for him with royal magnificence.
Ulrich could not control his amazement.