the mysterious portrait-第13章

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character。　He　was　possessed　by　a　troubled；　uneasy　feeling；　of　which　he

was　unable　to　explain　the　cause；　and　he　soon　committed　a　deed　which　no

one　could　have　expected　of　him。　For　some　time　the　works　of　one　of　his

pupils　had　been　attracting　the　attention　of　a　small　circle　of

connoisseurs　and　amateurs。　My　father　had　perceived　his　talent；　and

manifested　a　particular　liking　for　him　in　consequence。　Suddenly　the

general　interest　in　him　and　talk　about　him　became　unendurable　to　my

father　who　grew　envious　of　him。　Finally；　to　complete　his　vexation；　he

learned　that　his　pupil　had　been　asked　to　paint　a　picture　for　a

recently　built　and　wealthy　church。　This　enraged　him。　'No；　I　will　not

permit　that　fledgling　to　triumph！'　said　he：　'it　is　early；　friend；　to

think　of　consigning　old　men　to　the　gutters。　I　still　have　powers；　God

be　praised！　We'll　soon　see　which　will　put　down　the　other。'



〃And　this　straightforward；　honourable　man　employed　intrigues　which　he

had　hitherto　abhorred。　He　finally　contrived　that　there　should　be　a

competition　for　the　picture　which　other　artists　were　permitted　to

enter　into。　Then　he　shut　himself　up　in　his　room；　and　grasped　his　brush

with　zeal。　It　seemed　as　if　he　were　striving　to　summon　all　his　strength

up　for　this　occasion。　And；　in　fact；　the　result　turned　out　to　be　one　of

his　best　works。　No　one　doubted　that　he　would　bear　off　the　palm。　The

pictures　were　placed　on　exhibition；　and　all　the　others　seemed　to　his

as　night　to　day。　But　of　a　sudden；　one　of　the　members　present；　an

ecclesiastical　personage　if　I　mistake　not；　made　a　remark　which

surprised　every　one。　'There　is　certainly　much　talent　in　this　artist's

picture；'　said　he；　'but　no　holiness　in　the　faces：　there　is　even；　on

the　contrary；　a　demoniacal　look　in　the　eyes；　as　though　some　evil

feeling　had　guided　the　artist's　hand。'　All　looked；　and　could　not　but

acknowledge　the　truth　of　these　words。　My　father　rushed　forward　to　his

picture；　as　though　to　verify　for　himself　this　offensive　remark；　and

perceived　with　horror　that　he　had　bestowed　the　usurer's　eyes　upon

nearly　all　the　figures。　They　had　such　a　diabolical　gaze　that　he

involuntarily　shuddered。　The　picture　was　rejected；　and　he　was　forced

to　hear；　to　his　indescribable　vexation；　that　the　palm　was　awarded　to

his　pupil。



〃It　is　impossible　to　describe　the　state　of　rage　in　which　he　returned

home。　He　almost　killed　my　mother；　he　drove　the　children　away；　broke

his　brushes　and　easels；　tore　down　the　usurer's　portrait　from　the　wall；

demanded　a　knife；　and　ordered　a　fire　to　be　built　in　the　chimney；

intending　to　cut　it　in　pieces　and　burn　it。　A　friend；　an　artist；　caught

him　in　the　act　as　he　entered　the　rooma　jolly　fellow；　always

satisfied　with　himself；　inflated　by　unattainable　wishes；　doing　daily

anything　that　came　to　hand；　and　taking　still　more　gaily　to　his　dinner

and　little　carouses。



〃'What　are　you　doing？　What　are　you　preparing　to　burn？'　he　asked；　and

stepped　up　to　the　portrait。　'Why；　this　is　one　of　your　very　best　works。

It　is　the　usurer　who　died　a　short　time　ago：　yes；　it　is　a　most　perfect

likeness。　You　did　not　stop　until　you　had　got　into　his　very　eyes。　Never

did　eyes　look　as　these　do　now。'



〃'Well；　I'll　see　how　they　look　in　the　fire！'　said　my　father；　making　a

movement　to　fling　the　portrait　into　the　grate。



〃'Stop；　for　Heaven's　sake！'　exclaimed　his　friend；　restraining　him：

'give　it　to　me；　rather；　if　it　offends　your　eyes　to　such　a　degree。'　My

father　resisted；　but　yielded　at　length；　and　the　jolly　fellow；　well

pleased　with　his　acquisition；　carried　the　portrait　home　with　him。



〃When　he　was　gone；　my　father　felt　more　calm。　The　burden　seemed　to　have

disappeared　from　his　soul　in　company　with　the　portrait。　He　was

surprised　himself　at　his　evil　feelings；　his　envy；　and　the　evident

change　in　his　character。　Reviewing　his　acts；　he　became　sad　at　heart；

and　not　without　inward　sorrow　did　he　exclaim；　'No；　it　was　God　who

punished　me！　my　picture；　in　fact；　was　meant　to　ruin　my　brother…man。　A

devilish　feeling　of　envy　guided　my　brush；　and　that　devilish　feeling

must　have　made　itself　visible　in　it。'



〃He　set　out　at　once　to　seek　his　former　pupil；　embraced　him　warmly；

begged　his　forgiveness；　and　endeavoured　as　far　as　possible　to　excuse

his　own　fault。　His　labours　continued　as　before；　but　his　face　was　more

frequently　thoughtful。　He　prayed　more；　grew　more　taciturn；　and

expressed　himself　less　sharply　about　people：　even　the　rough　exterior

of　his　character　was　modified　to　some　extent。　But　a　certain　occurrence

soon　disturbed　him　more　than　ever。　He　had　seen　nothing　for　a　long　time

of　the　comrade　who　had　begged　the　portrait　of　him。　He　had　already

decided　to　hunt　him　up；　when　the　latter　suddenly　made　his　appearance

in　his　room。　After　a　few　words　and　questions　on　both　sides；　he　said；

'Well；　brother；　it　was　not　without　cause　that　you　wished　to　burn　that

portrait。　Devil　take　it；　there's　something　horrible　about　it！　I　don't

believe　in　sorcerers；　but；　begging　your　pardon；　there's　an　unclean

spirit　in　it。'



〃'How　so？'　asked　my　father。



〃'Well；　from　the　very　moment　I　hung　it　up　in　my　room　I　felt　such

depressionjust　as　if　I　wanted　to　murder　some　one。　I　never　knew　in　my

life　what　sleeplessness　was；　but　I　suffered　not　from　sleeplessness

alone；　but　from　such　dreams！I　cannot　tell　whether　they　were　dreams；

or　what；　it　was　as　if　a　demon　were　strangling　one：　and　the　old　man

appeared　to　me　in　my　sleep。　In　short；　I　can't　describe　my　state　of

mind。　I　had　a　sensation　of　fear；　as　if　expecting　something　unpleasant。

I　felt　as　if　I　could　not　speak　a　cheerful　or　sincere　word　to　any　one：

it　was　just　as　if　a　spy　were　sitting　over　me。　But　from　the　very　hour

that　I　gave　that　portrait　to　my　nephew；　who　asked　for　it；　I　felt　as　if

a　stone　had　been　rolled　from　my　shoulders；　and　became　cheerful；　as　you

see　me　now。　Well；　brother；　you　painted　the　very　Devil！'



〃During　this　recital　my　father　listened　with　unswerving　attention；　and

finally　inquired；　'And　your　nephew　now　has　the　portrait？'



〃'My　nephew；　indeed！　he　could　not　stand　it！'　said　the　jolly　fellow：

'do　you　know；　the　soul　of　that　usurer　has　migrated　into　it；　he　jumps

out　of　the　frame；　walks　about　the　room；　and　what　my　nephew　tells　of

him　is　simply　incomprehensible。　I　should　take　him　for　a　lunatic；　if　I

had　not　undergone　a　part　of　it　myself。　He　sold　it　to　some　collector　of

pictures；　and　he　could　not　stand　it　either；　and　got　rid　of　it　to　some

one　else。'



〃This　story　produced　a　deep　impression　on　my　father。　He　grew　seriously

pensive；　fell　into　hypochondria；　and　finally　became　fully　convinced

that　his　brush　had　served　as　a　tool　of　the　Devil；　and　that　a　portion

of　the　usurer's　vitality　had　actually　passed　into　the　portrait；　and

was　now　troubling　people；　inspiring　diabolical　excitement；　beguiling

painters　from　the　true　path；　producing　the　fearful　torments　of　envy；

and　so　forth。　Three　catastrophes　which　occurred　afterwards；　three

sudden　deaths　of　wife；　daughter；　and　infant　son；　he　regarded　as　a

divine　punishment　on　him；　and　firmly　resolved　to　withdraw　from　the

world。



〃As　soon　as　I　was　nine　years　old；　he　placed　me　in　an　academy　of

painting；　and；　paying　all　his　debts；　retired　to　a　lonely　cloister；

where　he　soon　afterwards　took　the　vows。　There　he　amazed　every　one　by

the　strictness　of　his　life；　and　his　untiring　observance　of　all　the

monastic　rules。　The　prior　of　the　monastery；　hearing　of　his　skill　in

painting；　ordered　him　to　paint　the　principal　picture　in　the　church。

But　the　humble　brother　said　plainly　that　he　was　unworthy　to　touch　a

brush；　that　his　was　contaminated；　that　with　toil　and　great　sacrifice

must　he　first　purify　his　spirit　in　order　to　render　himself　fit　to

undertake　such　a　task。　He　increased　the　rigours　of　monastic　life　for

himself　as　much　as　possible。　At　last；　even　they　became　insufficient；

and　he　retired；　with　the　approval　of　the　prior；　into　the　desert；　in

order　to　be　quite　alone。　There　he　constructed　himself　a　cell　from

branches　of　trees；　ate　only　uncooked　roots；　dragged　abo