The Cena Of
Titian Dropped To Pieces In The Refectory.
The Gloria, which had sunk
into eclipse on the death of Charles V., was hidden here among
unappreciative monks.
But on the secularization of the monasteries,
these superb canvases went to swell the riches of the Royal Museum.
There are still enough left here, however, to vindicate the ancient fame
of the collection. They are perhaps more impressive in their beauty and
loneliness than if they were pranking among their kin in the glorious
galleries and perfect light of that enchanted palace of Charles III. The
inexhaustible old man of Cadora has the Prayer on Mount Olivet, an Ecce
Homo, an Adoration of the Magi. Velazquez one of his rare scriptural
pieces, Jacob and his Children. Tintoretto is rather injured at the
Museo by the number and importance of his pictures left in this monkish
twilight; among them is a lovely Esther, and a masterly Presentation of
Christ to the People. Plenty of Giordanos and Bassanos and one or two
by El Greco, with his weird plague-stricken faces, all chalk and
charcoal. A sense of duty will take you into the crypt where the dead
kings are sleeping in brass. This mausoleum, ordered by the great
Charles, was slow in finishing. All of his line had a hand in it down to
Philip IV., who completed it and gathered in the poor relics of royal
mortality from many graves. The key of the vault is the stone where the
priest stands when he elevates the Host in the temple above.
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