the madonna of the future-第7节

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invite　her　to　sit　for　me！〃



〃'At　lastat　last'？〃　I　repeated；　in　much　amazement。　　〃Do　you　mean

that　she　has　never　done　so　yet？〃



〃I　have　not　really　hadaa　sitting；〃　said　Theobald；　speaking　very

slowly。　　〃I　have　taken　notes；　you　know；　I　have　got　my　grand

fundamental　impression。　　That's　the　great　thing！　　But　I　have　not

actually　had　her　as　a　model；　posed　and　draped　and　lighted；　before　my

easel。〃



What　had　become　for　the　moment　of　my　perception　and　my　tact　I　am　at　a

loss　to　say；　in　their　absence　I　was　unable　to　repress　a　headlong

exclamation。　　I　was　destined　to　regret　it。　　We　had　stopped　at　a

turning；　beneath　a　lamp。　　〃My　poor　friend；〃　I　exclaimed；　laying　my

hand　on　his　shoulder；　〃you　have　DAWDLED！　　She's　an　old；　old　woman

for　a　Madonna！〃



It　was　as　if　I　had　brutally　struck　him；　I　shall　never　forget　the

long；　slow；　almost　ghastly　look　of　pain；　with　which　he　answered　me。



〃Dawdled？old；　old？〃　he　stammered。　　〃Are　you　joking？〃



〃Why；　my　dear　fellow；　I　suppose　you　don't　take　her　for　a　woman　of

twenty？〃



He　drew　a　long　breath　and　leaned　against　a　house；　looking　at　me　with

questioning；　protesting；　reproachful　eyes。　　At　last；　starting

forward；　and　grasping　my　arm〃Answer　me　solemnly：　　does　she　seem　to

you　truly　old？　　Is　she　wrinkled；　is　she　faded；　am　I　blind？〃



Then　at　last　I　understood　the　immensity　of　his　illusion　how；　one　by

one；　the　noiseless　years　had　ebbed　away　and　left　him　brooding　in

charmed　inaction；　for　ever　preparing　for　a　work　for　ever　deferred。

It　seemed　to　me　almost　a　kindness　now　to　tell　him　the　plain　truth。

〃I　should　be　sorry　to　say　you　are　blind；〃　I　answered；　〃but　I　think

you　are　deceived。　　You　have　lost　time　in　effortless　contemplation。

Your　friend　was　once　young　and　fresh　and　virginal；　but；　I　protest；

that　was　some　years　ago。　　Still；　she　has　de　beaux　restes。　　By　all

means　make　her　sit　for　you！〃　I　broke　down；　his　face　was　too　horribly

reproachful。



He　took　off　his　hat　and　stood　passing　his　handkerchief　mechanically

over　his　forehead。　　〃De　beaux　restes？　　I　thank　you　for　sparing　me　the

plain　English。　　I　must　make　up　my　Madonna　out　of　de　beaux　restes！

What　a　masterpiece　she　will　be！　　Oldold！　　Oldold！〃　he　murmured。



〃Never　mind　her　age；〃　I　cried；　revolted　at　what　I　had　done；　〃never

mind　my　impression　of　her！　　You　have　your　memory；　your　notes；　your

genius。　　Finish　your　picture　in　a　month。　　I　pronounce　it　beforehand　a

masterpiece；　and　I　hereby　offer　you　for　it　any　sum　you　may　choose　to

ask。〃



He　stared；　but　he　seemed　scarcely　to　understand　me。　　〃Oldold！〃　he

kept　stupidly　repeating。　　〃If　she　is　old；　what　am　I？　　If　her　beauty

has　faded；　wherewhere　is　my　strength？　　Has　life　been　a　dream？　　Have

I　worshipped　too　longhave　I　loved　too　well？〃　　The　charm；　in　truth；

was　broken。　　That　the　chord　of　illusion　should　have　snapped　at　my

light　accidental　touch　showed　how　it　had　been　weakened　by　excessive

tension。　　The　poor　fellow's　sense　of　wasted　time；　of　vanished

opportunity；　seemed　to　roll　in　upon　his　soul　in　waves　of　darkness。

He　suddenly　dropped　his　head　and　burst　into　tears。



I　led　him　homeward　with　all　possible　tenderness；　but　I　attempted

neither　to　check　his　grief；　to　restore　his　equanimity；　nor　to　unsay

the　hard　truth。　　When　we　reached　my　hotel　I　tried　to　induce　him　to

come　so。



〃We　will　drink　a　glass　of　wine；〃　I　said；　smiling；　〃to　the　completion

of　the　Madonna。〃



With　a　violent　effort　he　held　up　his　head；　mused　for　a　moment　with　a

formidably　sombre　frown；　and　then　giving　me　his　hand；　〃I　will　finish

it；〃　he　cried；　〃in　a　month！　　No；　in　a　fortnight！　　After　all；　I　have

it　HERE！〃　　And　he　tapped　his　forehead。　　〃Of　course　she's　old！　　She

can　afford　to　have　it　said　of　hera　woman　who　has　made　twenty　years

pass　like　a　twelvemonth！　　Oldold！　　Why；　sir；　she　shall　be　eternal！〃



I　wished　to　see　him　safely　to　his　own　door；　but　he　waved　me　back　and

walked　away　with　an　air　of　resolution；　whistling　and　swinging　his

cane。　　I　waited　a　moment；　and　then　followed　him　at　a　distance；　and

saw　him　proceed　to　cross　the　Santa　Trinita　Bridge。　　When　he　reached

the　middle　he　suddenly　paused；　as　if　his　strength　had　deserted　him；

and　leaned　upon　the　parapet　gazing　over　into　the　river。　　I　was

careful　to　keep　him　in　sight；　I　confess　that　I　passed　ten　very

nervous　minutes。　　He　recovered　himself　at　last；　and　went　his　way；

slowly　and　with　hanging　head。



That　I　had　really　startled　poor　Theobald　into　a　bolder　use　of　his

long…garnered　stores　of　knowledge　and　taste；　into　the　vulgar　effort

and　hazard　of　production；　seemed　at　first　reason　enough　for　his

continued　silence　and　absence；　but　as　day　followed　day　without　his

either　calling　or　sending　me　a　line；　and　without　my　meeting　him　in

his　customary　haunts；　in　the　galleries；　in　the　Chapel　at　San　Lorenzo；

or　strolling　between　the　Arno　side　and　the　great　hedge…screen　of

verdure　which；　along　the　drive　of　the　Cascine；　throws　the　fair

occupants　of　barouche　and　phaeton　into　such　becoming　reliefas　for

more　than　a　week　I　got　neither　tidings　nor　sight　of　him；　I　began　to

fear　that　I　had　fatally　offended　him；　and　that；　instead　of　giving　a

wholesome　impetus　to　his　talent；　I　had　brutally　paralysed　it。　　I　had

a　wretched　suspicion　that　I　had　made　him　ill。　　My　stay　at　Florence

was　drawing　to　a　close；　and　it　was　important　that；　before　resuming　my

journey；　I　should　assure　myself　of　the　truth。　　Theobald；　to　the　last；

had　kept　his　lodging　a　mystery；　and　I　was　altogether　at　a　loss　where

to　look　for　him。　　The　simplest　course　was　to　make　inquiry　of　the

beauty　of　the　Mercato　Vecchio；　and　I　confess　that　unsatisfied

curiosity　as　to　the　lady　herself　counselled　it　as　well。　　Perhaps　I

had　done　her　injustice；　and　she　was　as　immortally　fresh　and　fair　as

be　conceived　her。　　I　was；　at　any　rate；　anxious　to　behold　once　more

the　ripe　enchantress　who　had　made　twenty　years　pass　as　a　twelvemonth。

I　repaired　accordingly；　one　morning；　to　her　abode；　climbed　the

interminable　staircase；　and　reached　her　door。　　It　stood　ajar；　and　as

I　hesitated　whether　to　enter；　a　little　serving…maid　came　clattering

out　with　an　empty　kettle；　as　if　she　had　just　performed　some　savoury

errand。　　The　inner　door；　too；　was　open；　so　I　crossed　the　little

vestibule　and　entered　the　room　in　which　I　had　formerly　been　received。

It　had　not　its　evening　aspect。　　The　table；　or　one　end　of　it；　was

spread　for　a　late　breakfast；　and　before　it　sat　a　gentlemanan

individual；　at　least；　of　the　male　sexdoing　execution　upon　a

beefsteak　and　onions；　and　a　bottle　of　wine。　　At　his　elbow；　in

friendly　proximity；　was　placed　the　lady　of　the　house。　　Her　attitude；

as　I　entered；　was　not　that　of　an　enchantress。　　With　one　hand　she　held

in　her　lap　a　plate　of　smoking　maccaroni；　with　the　other　she　had

lifted　high　in　air　one　of　the　pendulous　filaments　of　this　succulent

compound；　and　was　in　the　act　of　slipping　it　gently　down　her　throat。

On　the　uncovered　end　of　the　table；　facing　her　companion；　were　ranged

half　a　dozen　small　statuettes；　of　some　snuff…　coloured　substance

resembling　terra…cotta。　　He；　brandishing　his　knife　with　ardour；　was

apparently　descanting　on　their　merits。



Evidently　I　darkened　the　door。　　My　hostess　dropped　liner　maccaroni

into　her　mouth；　and　rose　hastily　with　a　harsh　exclamation　and　a

flushed　face。　　I　immediately　perceived　that　the　Signora　Serafina's

secret　was　even　better　worth　knowing　than　I　had　supposed；　and　that

the　way　to　learn　it　was　to　take　it　for　granted。　　I　summoned　my　best

Italian；　I　smiled　and　bowed　and　apologised　for　my　intrusion；　and　in　a

moment；　whether　or　no　I　had　dispelled　the　lady's　irritation；　I　had　at

least　stimulated　her　prudence。　　I　was　welcome；　she　said；　I　must　take

a　seat。　　This　was　another　friend　of　hersalso　an　artist；　she

declared　with　a　smile　which　was　almost　amiable。　　Her　companion　wiped

his　moustache　and　bowed　with　great　civility。　　I　saw　at　a　glance　that

he　was　equal　to　the　situation。　　He　was　presumably　the　author　of　the

statuettes　on　the　table；　and　he　knew　a　money…spending　forestiere　when

he　saw　one。　　He　was　a　small　wiry　man；　with　a　clever；　impudent；

tossed…up　nose；　a　sharp　little　black　eye；　and　waxed　ends　to　his

moustache。　　On　the　side　of　his　head　he　wore　jauntily　a　little　crimson

velvet　smoking…cap；　and　I　observed　that　his　feet　were　encased　in

brilliant　slippers。　　On　Serafina's　remarking　with　dignity　that　I　was

the　friend　of　Mr。　Theobald；　he　broke　out　into　that　fantastic　French

of　which　certain　Italians　are　so　insistently　lavish；　and　declared

with　fervour　that　Mr。　Theobald　was　a　magnificent　genius。



〃I　am　sure　I　don't　know；〃　I　answered　with　a　shrug。　　〃If　you　are　in　a

position　to　affirm　it；　you　have　the　advantage　of　me。　　I　have　seen

nothing　from　his　hand　but　the　bambino　yonder；　which　certainly　is

fine。〃



He　declared　that　the　bambino　was　a　masterpiece；　a　pure　Corregio。　　It

was　only　a　pity；　he　added　with　a　knowing　laugh；　that　the　sketch　had

not　been　made　on　some　good　bit　of　honeycombed　old　panel。　　The　stately

Serafina　hereupon　protested