untrammelled, gay, and free as the birds in the air; he had desired to
see, admire, en joy, and after becoming familiar with all the great
artists, choose a new master among them. Sophonisba's home was to have
become his, and it had never entered his mind to limit the period of his
enjoyment and study on the sacred soil.

How differently his life must now be ordered! Until he went on board of
the ship in Valencia, the thought of calling a girl so good, sensible and
loving as Isabella his own, rejoiced and inspired him, but during the
solitary hours a sea-voyage so lavishly bestows, a strange transformation
in his feelings occurred.

The wider became the watery expanse between him and Spain, the farther
receded Isabella's memory, the less alluring and delightful grew the
thought of possessing her hand.

He now told himself that, before the fatal hour, he had rejoiced at the
anticipation of escaping her pedantic criticism, and when he looked
forward to the future and saw himself, handsome Ulrich Navarrete, whose
superior height filled the smaller Castilians with envy, walking through
the streets with his tiny wife, and perceived the smiles of the people
they met, he was seized with fierce indignation against himself and his
hard fate.

He felt fettered like the galley-slaves, whose chains rattled and
clanked, as they pulled at the oars in the ship's waist. At other times
he could not help recalling her large, beautiful, love-beaming eyes, her
soft, red lips, and yearningly confess that it would have been sweet to
hold her in his arms and kiss her, and, since he had forever lost his
Ruth, he could find no more faithful, sensible, tender wife than she.