When he had gotten all that Italy could give, or more properly all he
could absorb, his intent was to follow his heart and go straight back to
Flanders.

Three years had passed since Rubens had arrived in Venice--years of
profit to both spirit and purse. He had painted pictures that placed him
in the rank of acknowledged artists, and the Duke of Mantua had dropped
all patronizing airs. With the ducal party Rubens had visited Verona,
Florence, Pisa and Padua. His fame was more than local. The painter
hinted to Chieppo that he would like to return to Antwerp, but the
Secretary objected--he had important work for him.

* * * * *

Rubens was from Flanders, and Flanders was a Spanish possession: then the
Fleming knew the daughter of the King of Spain. No man was so well fitted
to go on a delicate diplomatic mission to Spain as the Flemish painter.
"You are my heart's jewel," said the Duke of Mantua to the Prime
Minister, when the Minister suggested it.

The Duke wished private information as to certain things Spanish, and was
also preparing the way to ask for sundry favors. The Court at Madrid was
artistic in instinct; so was the Mantuan Court. To recognize the esthetic
side of your friend's nature, when your friend is secretly not quite sure
but that he is more worldly than spiritual, is a stroke of diplomacy.
Spain was not really artistic, but there were stirrings being felt, and
Velasquez and Murillo were soon to appear.

The Duke of Mantua wished to present the King of Spain with certain
pictures; his mind was filled with a lively sense of anticipation of