Even his enemies knew that he was liberal and magnanimous.
The week passed away, the horse was tamed and bore the saddle quietly.
Don Juan received Ulrich's petition kindly, and invited him to make the journey on the admiral's galley, with the king's ambassador and his secretary, de Soto.
The very same day the happy artist obtained a bill of exchange on a house on the Rialto, and now it was settled, he was going to Italy.
Coello was obliged to submit, and his kind heart again showed itself; for he wrote letters of introduction for Ulrich to his old artist friends in Venice, and induced the king to send the great Titian a present--which the ambassador was to deliver.

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.
The studies he had finished in Madrid aroused his compassion; in Italy he would first really begin to become an artist: there work must bring him what it had here denied: satisfaction, success! Gay as a boy, half frantic with joy, happiness and expectation, he crushed the sketches, which seemed to him too miserable, into the waste-paper basket with a maul-stick.
During this work of destruction, Isabella entered the room.
She was now sixteen.

Her figure had developed early, but remained petite.

Large, deep, earnest eyes looked forth from the little round face, and the fresh, tiny mouth could not help pleasing everyone.

Her head now reached only to Ulrich's breast, and if he had always treated her like a dear, sensible, clever child, her small stature had certainly been somewhat to blame for it.