RIBERA. Show him in. [Exit LUCA. RIBERA draws the curtain before his picture of "Jacob's Dream."] RIBERA. A gentleman of Spain! Perchance the Prince Sends couriers to herald his approach, Or craves a longer grace. Enter LUCA, ushering in DON JOHN unattended, completely enveloped in a Spanish mantle, which he throws off, his face almost hidden by a cavalier's hat. He uncovers his head on entering. RIBERA, repressing a movement of surprise, hastens to greet him and kisses his hand. RIBERA. Welcome, my lord! I am shamed to think my sovereign's son should wait, Through a churl's ignorance, without my doors. DON JOHN. Dear master, blame him not. I came attended By one page only. Here I blush to claim Such honor as depends on outward pomp. No royalty is here, save the crowned monarch Of our Sicilian artists. Be it mine To press with reverent lips my master's hand. RIBERA. Your Highness is too gracious; if you glance Round mine ill-furnished studio, my works Shall best proclaim me and my poor deserts. Luca, uplift you hangings. DON JOHN (seating himself). Sir, you may sit. RIBERA (aside, seating himself slowly). Curse his swollen arrogance! Doth he imagine I waited leave of him? (Luca uncovers the picture). DON JOHN. Oh, wonderful! You have bettered here your best. Why, sir, he breathes! Will not those locked lids ope?--that nerveless hand Regain the iron strength of sinew mated With such heroic frame? You have conspired 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." DON JOHN. Where is that? I ne'er have seen the painting.