_Prado Gallery, Madrid_]
The features are small, and modelled with an almost doll-like
regularity. Yet the mouth is set firmly enough to indicate a strong will
behind it. Isabella was indeed a woman of remarkable self-control. A
story is told that once when ill and in great pain she turned her face
in the shadow that none might see her suffer, and uttered no sound of
complaining. Her nurses remonstrated, but she replied firmly, "Die I
may, but wail I will not."
The costume of a Spanish queen of the sixteenth century naturally
interests us. Apparently Spanish Court etiquette of the period dictated
a dress made with high neck and long sleeves. The bodice is of red
velvet, the loose sleeves lined with satin. The under bodice, which we
should call a _guimpe_, is of white muslin with gold fillets. A jewel
adorns the red hair, and a long necklace of pearls is caught on the
bosom with a pendant of rubies and emeralds. The careful dressing of the
hair, the strict propriety of the gown, and the attitude of the queen
herself suggest the regard of conventionality which governed the great
lady.
What the portrait lacks is the quality of lifelikeness which makes other
pictures by Titian so wonderful.[8] Naturally the painter could not so
easily impart vitality to the picture when not working directly from the
living model. To make up, as it were, for this defect, he painted the
various textures of the dress with marvellous skill. Satin, velvet, and
muslin, each is distinguished by its own peculiar lustre.
The bit of landscape seen through the window is another beautiful part
of the picture. The distance gives depth to the composition and avoids
the crowded effect it might otherwise have. We shall see a similar
setting again in the portrait of Lavinia.
The Emperor had been very fond of his wife, and an old historian says
that "he treated her on all occasions with much distinction and regard."
If this seems nothing surprising to note, we must remember that at the
same period Henry VIII. of England was treating his queens quite
differently.
In the last years of his life Charles V., weary of the cares of
government, relinquished his kingdom to his son. He retired to the
convent of Yuste to end his days, taking with him this portrait of his
wife. When he lay on his death-bed he asked to see the picture, and when
at last he died his body was laid to rest beside Isabella. Their son,
Philip II., whose portrait we are presently to study, succeeded to a
portion of his father's dominion.