With Nature to produce a man. Behold,
I chatter foolish speech ; for such a marvel
The fittest praise is silence.
[He rises and stands before the picture.
RIBERA (after a pause).
I am glad
Your Highness deigns approve. Lose no more time,
Lest the poor details should repay you not.
Unto your royal home ’t will follow you,
Companion, though unworthy, to the treasures
Of the Queen’s gallery.
DON JOHN.
T is another jewel
Set in my father s crown, and, in his name,
I thank you for it.
[RIBERA bows silently. DON JOHN glances around the studio.
DON JOHN.
There hangs a quaint, strong head,
Though merely sketched. What a marked, cunning leer
Grins on the wide mouth ! what a bestial glance !
RIBERA.
T is but a slight hint for my larger work,
" Bacchus made drunk by Satyrs."