"And the church is dark," said another, "and the people like the red and blue of the colors of the true Madonna."
"And a frate, of the Servi--since it hath been painted for the convent--here--kneeling," suggested another, more timidly; for it was known that the Veronese was not always docile in these days, since he had become great.
"Nay, leave me," said the Veronese fiercely; "for this one thing I _know_, and this will I paint, for the good of my soul, as mine art shall prompt me and not otherwise. And if it please not him--Fra Paolo, who hath given the order--I will bestow it elsewhere."
Then a friar habited like the others, who had stood apart and had not spoken, came and threw back his cowl, dismissing the group with a gesture. The features thus disclosed were unimportant, apart from the domelike forehead, which might well belong to the most learned man of his learned age; but Fra Paolo's face owed its distinction to the rare impression it gave the beholder of invincible calm and self-mastery, with a certain mysterious hint of power and a promise of unswervingness. His gaze held no suggestion of concealment; yet for the deeper thoughts that move the spirit of man, to those who knew him well his mild blue eyes remained inscrutable, while his courtesy to all made one forget that his words were few, and that of himself he had revealed nothing.
"It is well," he said, "to _know_ that we know. Serve faithfully the God who gave the gift and take no counsel from men who know not."
Then he stood silent for a while before the picture, as if he would learn its meaning, the artist watching anxiously, not guessing his thought.
"The pious wish hath made the offering noble," he said at length, in quiet, measured tones. "And for the face, it is holy--of the beauty that God permits--yet I pretend no criticism, since Art is not of mine understanding. I will not take the honor of the gift away from the giver, though I had meant it otherwise."
After Fra Paolo had left the studio the Veronese was still studying his picture, pleased and serious, feeling that this man, who was not an artist, had comprehended the deepest mood in which he had ever approached his art, when Marina entered.
"Fra Paolo hath found our offering worthy," he said very gravely; and suddenly remembering that Marina had come for the last time, "Benedetto hath need of me in the outer studio for some measurements," he said to Marcantonio, "but I shall soon return. Do thou, meanwhile, show the _damigella_ thy sketch."