at the sign of the cat and racket-第5章

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wrong；　this　was　his　personal　feeling。　His　heart；　which　had　long　been　a
prey　to　the　fire　of　Italian　passion；　craved　one　of　those　modest　and
meditative　maidens　whom　in　Rome　he　had　unfortunately　seen　only　in
painting。　From　the　enthusiasm　produced　in　his　excited　fancy　by　the
living　picture　before　him；　he　naturally　passed　to　a　profound
admiration　for　the　principal　figure；　Augustine　seemed　to　be　pensive；
and　did　not　eat；　by　the　arrangement　of　the　lamp　the　light　fell　full　on
her　face；　and　her　bust　seemed　to　move　in　a　circle　of　fire；　which　threw
up　the　shape　of　her　head　and　illuminated　it　with　almost　supernatural
effect。　The　artist　involuntarily　compared　her　to　an　exiled　angel
dreaming　of　heaven。　An　almost　unknown　emotion；　a　limpid；　seething　love
flooded　his　heart。　After　remaining　a　minute；　overwhelmed　by　the　weight
of　his　ideas；　he　tore　himself　from　his　bliss；　went　home；　ate　nothing；
and　could　not　sleep。

The　next　day　he　went　to　his　studio；　and　did　not　come　out　of　it　till　he
had　placed　on　canvas　the　magic　of　the　scene　of　which　the　memory　had；
in　a　sense；　made　him　a　devotee；　his　happiness　was　incomplete　till　he
should　possess　a　faithful　portrait　of　his　idol。　He　went　many　times
past　the　house　of　the　Cat　and　Racket；　he　even　ventured　in　once　or
twice；　under　a　disguise；　to　get　a　closer　view　of　the　bewitching
creature　that　Madame　Guillaume　covered　with　her　wing。　For　eight　whole
months；　devoted　to　his　love　and　to　his　brush；　he　was　lost　to　the　sight
of　his　most　intimate　friends　forgetting　the　world；　the　theatre；
poetry；　music；　and　all　his　dearest　habits。　One　morning　Girodet　broke
through　all　the　barriers　with　which　artists　are　familiar；　and　which
they　know　how　to　evade；　went　into　his　room；　and　woke　him　by　asking；
〃What　are　you　going　to　send　to　the　Salon？〃　The　artist　grasped　his
friend's　hand；　dragged　him　off　to　the　studio；　uncovered　a　small　easel
picture　and　a　portrait。　After　a　long　and　eager　study　of　the　two
masterpieces；　Girodet　threw　himself　on　his　comrade's　neck　and　hugged
him；　without　speaking　a　word。　His　feelings　could　only　be　expressed　as
he　felt　themsoul　to　soul。

〃You　are　in　love？〃　said　Girodet。

They　both　knew　that　the　finest　portraits　by　Titian；　Raphael；　and
Leonardo　da　Vinci；　were　the　outcome　of　the　enthusiastic　sentiments　by
which；　indeed；　under　various　conditions；　every　masterpiece　is
engendered。　The　artist　only　bent　his　head　in　reply。

〃How　happy　are　you　to　be　able　to　be　in　love；　here；　after　coming　back
from　Italy！　But　I　do　not　advise　you　to　send　such　works　as　these　to　the
Salon；〃　the　great　painter　went　on。　〃You　see；　these　two　works　will　not
be　appreciated。　Such　true　coloring；　such　prodigious　work；　cannot　yet
be　understood；　the　public　is　not　accustomed　to　such　depths。　The
pictures　we　paint；　my　dear　fellow；　are　mere　screens。　We　should　do
better　to　turn　rhymes；　and　translate　the　antique　poets！　There　is　more
glory　to　be　looked　for　there　than　from　our　luckless　canvases！〃

Notwithstanding　this　charitable　advice；　the　two　pictures　were
exhibited。　The　/Interior/　made　a　revolution　in　painting。　It　gave　birth
to　the　pictures　of　genre　which　pour　into　all　our　exhibitions　in　such
prodigious　quantity　that　they　might　be　supposed　to　be　produced　by
machinery。　As　to　the　portrait；　few　artists　have　forgotten　that
lifelike　work；　and　the　public；　which　as　a　body　is　sometimes
discerning；　awarded　it　the　crown　which　Girodet　himself　had　hung　over
it。　The　two　pictures　were　surrounded　by　a　vast　throng。　They　fought　for
places；　as　women　say。　Speculators　and　moneyed　men　would　have　covered
the　canvas　with　double　napoleons；　but　the　artist　obstinately　refused
to　sell　or　to　make　replicas。　An　enormous　sum　was　offered　him　for　the
right　of　engraving　them；　and　the　print…sellers　were　not　more　favored
than　the　amateurs。

Though　these　incidents　occupied　the　world；　they　were　not　of　a　nature
to　penetrate　the　recesses　of　the　monastic　solitude　in　the　Rue　Saint…
Denis。　However；　when　paying　a　visit　to　Madame　Guillaume；　the　notary's
wife　spoke　of　the　exhibition　before　Augustine；　of　whom　she　was　very
fond；　and　explained　its　purpose。　Madame　Roguin's　gossip　naturally
inspired　Augustine　with　a　wish　to　see　the　pictures；　and　with　courage
enough　to　ask　her　cousin　secretly　to　take　her　to　the　Louvre。　Her
cousin　succeeded　in　the　negotiations　she　opened　with　Madame　Guillaume
for　permission　to　release　the　young　girl　for　two　hours　from　her　dull
labors。　Augustine　was　thus　able　to　make　her　way　through　the　crowd　to
see　the　crowned　work。　A　fit　of　trembling　shook　her　like　an　aspen　leaf
as　she　recognized　herself。　She　was　terrified；　and　looked　about　her　to
find　Madame　Roguin；　from　whom　she　had　been　separated　by　a　tide　of
people。　At　that　moment　her　frightened　eyes　fell　on　the　impassioned
face　of　the　young　painter。　She　at　once　recalled　the　figure　of　a
loiterer　whom；　being　curious；　she　had　frequently　observed；　believing
him　to　be　a　new　neighbor。

〃You　see　how　love　has　inspired　me；〃　said　the　artist　in　the　timid
creature's　ear；　and　she　stood　in　dismay　at　the　words。

She　found　supernatural　courage　to　enable　her　to　push　through　the　crowd
and　join　her　cousin；　who　was　still　struggling　with　the　mass　of　people
that　hindered　her　from　getting　to　the　picture。

〃You　will　be　stifled！〃　cried　Augustine。　〃Let　us　go。〃

But　there　are　moments；　at　the　Salon；　when　two　women　are　not　always
free　to　direct　their　steps　through　the　galleries。　By　the　irregular
course　to　which　they　were　compelled　by　the　press；　Mademoiselle
Guillaume　and　her　cousin　were　pushed　to　within　a　few　steps　of　the
second　picture。　Chance　thus　brought　them；　both　together；　to　where　they
could　easily　see　the　canvas　made　famous　by　fashion；　for　once　in
agreement　with　talent。　Madame　Roguin's　exclamation　of　surprise　was
lost　in　the　hubbub　and　buzz　of　the　crowd；　Augustine　involuntarily　shed
tears　at　the　sight　of　this　wonderful　study。　Then；　by　an　almost
unaccountable　impulse；　she　laid　her　finger　on　her　lips；　as　she
perceived　quite　near　her　the　ecstatic　face　of　the　young　painter。　The
stranger　replied　by　a　nod；　and　pointed　to　Madame　Roguin；　as　a　spoil…
sport；　to　show　Augustine　that　he　had　understood。　This　pantomime　struck
the　young　girl　like　hot　coals　on　her　flesh；　she　felt　quite　guilty　as
she　perceived　that　there　was　a　compact　between　herself　and　the　artist。
The　suffocating　heat；　the　dazzling　sight　of　beautiful　dresses；　the
bewilderment　produced　in　Augustine's　brain　by　the　truth　of　coloring；
the　multitude　of　living　or　painted　figures；　the　profusion　of　gilt
frames；　gave　her　a　sense　of　intoxication　which　doubled　her　alarms。　She
would　perhaps　have　fainted　if　an　unknown　rapture　had　not　surged　up　in
her　heart　to　vivify　her　whole　being；　in　spite　of　this　chaos　of
sensations。　She　nevertheless　believed　herself　to　be　under　the　power　of
the　Devil；　of　whose　awful　snares　she　had　been　warned　of　by　the
thundering　words　of　preachers。　This　moment　was　to　her　like　a　moment　of
madness。　She　found　herself　accompanied　to　her　cousin's　carriage　by　the
young　man；　radiant　with　joy　and　love。　Augustine；　a　prey　to　an
agitation　new　to　her　experience；　an　intoxication　which　seemed　to
abandon　her　to　nature；　listened　to　the　eloquent　voice　of　her　heart；
and　looked　again　and　again　at　the　young　painter；　betraying　the　emotion
that　came　over　her。　Never　had　the　bright　rose　of　her　cheeks　shown　in
stronger　contrast　with　the　whiteness　of　her　skin。　The　artist　saw　her
beauty　in　all　its　bloom；　her　maiden　modesty　in　all　its　glory。　She
herself　felt　a　sort　of　rapture　mingled　with　terror　at　thinking　that
her　presence　had　brought　happiness　to　him　whose　name　was　on　every　lip；
and　whose　talent　lent　immortality　to　transient　scenes。　She　was　loved！
It　was　impossible　to　doubt　it。　When　she　no　longer　saw　the　artist；
these　simple　words　still　echoed　in　her　ear；　〃You　see　how　love　has
inspired　me！〃　And　the　throbs　of　her　heart；　as　they　grew　deeper；　seemed
a　pain；　her　heated　blood　revealed　so　many　unknown　forces　in　her　being。
She　affected　a　severe　headache　to　avoid　replying　to　her　cousin's
questions　concerning　the　pictures；　but　on　their　return　Madame　Roguin
could　not　forbear　from　speaking　to　Madame　Guillaume　of　the　fame　that
had　fallen　on　the　house　of　the　Cat　and　Racket；　and　Augustine　quaked　in
every　limb