CHAPTER VII.
SEBASTIAN DEL PIOMBO.
Giulia remembered, the next morning, as her cameriera was warping somepearls into her hair, that she had meant and half engaged to try acourse of mortification on the Cardinal's departure. She therefore puton an old green gown, with bouffonnee sleeves, which was almost too wornfor a duchess; and, in a very easy pair of slippers, sat down to hermorning refection. Some sweetmeats allured her, but she took a piece ofplain bread and a glass of lemonade; after which, she thought "Welldone, resolution!" and tasted the sweetmeats after all. Moderately,however.
After this, she sat for a good while in a waking dream; and then,rousing herself, determined to go to church, but found it was too late.She thought she would send for the poor widow of whom Bar Hhasdai hadspoken to her; but just then, Caterina came to tell her that her lapdoghad run a thorn into its foot; and as one act of mercy would do foranother, she superintended the dressing of the little animal's paw, anddid not send for the widow. After this, she inspected the embroidery ofher maids of honour, and thought of fourteen rhymes as the skeleton of asonnet.
She had advanced thus far in this well-spent day, when the sound ofhorses' feet made her suddenly aware of the approach of a visitor. Now,our Duchess did not like being caught; it was very seldom, indeed, thatshe _could_ be caught in deshabille; for she enjoyed the consciousnessof being at all times a perfectly well-dressed woman. It was hard,therefore, to be found in half-toilette the only time in all the seasonthat such a misfortune could have occurred; especially as it would notbe known to partake of the meritorious nature of a penance. However,the mortification would be all the more complete. Who could the visitorbe? The Bishop of Fondi?
She looked into the court-yard, and saw a grave, elderly person inecclesiastical habit, with four mounted attendants, descending somewhatstiffly from his horse. His face was rather plain; his figure tall andimposing. He had a snub nose, high, broad forehead, small, penetratingeyes, and auburn hair and beard a little silvered.
In a few minutes the maggior-domo announced "Messer SebastianoVeneziano."
The Duchess uttered an exclamation of joy, and advanced, beaming withsmiles, to meet him. Never had she looked more lovely: the painterstarted, and paused for a moment, as she approached. The next instant,her white hand was in his.
"Welcome, Messer Sebastiano, welcome! How good of you to grace my poorhouse!"
"Illustrious Lady, his Holiness the Pope desired me to give you hispaternal greeting."
"I gratefully thank his Holiness."
"--And his Eminence, Cardinal Ippolito de' Medici kisses your hands, andsupplicates of your condescension that you will remember your promise tolet my poor pencil limn your features."
"I have not forgotten it. I shall esteem it an honour to sit to so greata master. How would you have me dressed, Messer Sebastian? What poseshall you choose?"
"Vossignoria will allow me to study you a little before I decide?"
"Certainly, certainly. Rather formidable, though, to think I am alwaysbeing studied!"
"I should recommend Vossignoria not to think at all about it."
"Well, I will try. You are fatigued with your journey, MesserSebastian."
"It will soon pass off. My hand is not steady enough to paint to-day.The journey has interested me. I have made acquaintance with thepromontory of Circe, the shining rock of Anxur, and the toweringVolscian mountains--all renowned in song, as I need not tell you,Signora! I observed Cora and Sezza shining like aerial palaces againstthe brown rugged rock that supports them. I viewed with interest thewoods and thickets that once sheltered Camilla. Piperno is, you know,the _antiqua urbs_ of Virgil. I am speaking to a princess who is aclassical scholar----"
"Little enough of one," replied the Duchess. "Cardinal Ippolito tookcompassion on my ignorance, and translated the second book of the Eneidfor me. But how go things at Rome?"
And the great painter found that the great lady was more interested inthe chit-chat of the capital, than in classical allusion and learnedquotation.
The Duchess could always summon at short notice a little circle ofdeferential friends to her evening meal. She appeared in velvet andjewels. The next morning she wore white. This was not out of coquetry,but as a simple matter of business, that the famous master might make uphis mind what suited her best, as a sitter, and proceed to work.
"Lady," said he, "I prefer the dress in which I saw you first."
"Oh, but that is so old! so shabby!----"
"_Non importa_--it harmonises with your complexion----"
"Two shades of olive," said she, laughing a little; and she went tochange her dress.
When she returned, Sebastian had concentrated the light by excluding italtogether from one window, and placing a screen before the lower halfof the other. His easel and panel had been brought in by his attendant,who was now busy laying his palette, and the artist was selecting chalksand cartridge paper for a preparatory sketch.
"You look charming," said he, as Giulia entered and seated herself in araised chair. She was in the olive-green dress, cut square on the bust,with velvet bars on the corsage; and full, puffed, long sleeves, a whitelace neckerchief, and long transparent veil, added to the modest andnoble simplicity of her dress; while her rich auburn hair, dark in theshade and golden in the sun,[8] was braided behind with a few pearls,and gathered into rich coils.
[8] "As through the meadow-lands clear rivers run, Blue in the shadow, silver in the sun."
Hon. Mrs. Norton. _Lady of La Garaye._
Poor Cynthia, with her throat swathed up, stood behind with herfeather-fan; but the painter looked distastefully at her, and did notrepeat his glance: he had no mind to introduce her, even as a foil.
"I must make a saint or an angel of you, since you are for a Cardinal,"said he, with a grave smile; "and it will not be difficult."
"Surely, this old gown is not very angelical?" said the Duchess.
"No matter. A nimbus and pincers will identify you with St. Agatha orSt. Apollonia, quite sufficiently for the purpose."
He began to draw with great diligence, and was terribly silent. TheDuchess felt inclined to yawn.
"More to the right," he said, abruptly, as she inclined her head alittle to the left. "Perdona, illustrissima."
"Pray do not stand on ceremony," said she. Her countenance had becomevacant, and he felt he must call up its expression.
"Do you take any interest in art, Signora?"
"O yes, a great deal. I only wish I knew more about it."
"Do you know what is its great object?"
"To address the eye?"
"To address the mind."
"Certainly. Of course. I ought to have said so."
"The painter who only aims to deceive the eye is ignorant of the truedignity of art."
"To deceive the eye, and to please it, however, are different things."
"I grant it; but the eye of an intelligent, a refined person, is notpleased by that which offends the mind."
"I thought you Venetians cared more for colour than for drawing orexpression."
"I did so as long as I was a pupil of Giorgione's. But when I came toRome, Michael Angelo showed me where I was wrong. He said, 'It is a pityyou Venetians do not learn to draw better in your youth, and adopt abetter manner of study.' I took the hint, and drew diligently from theliving model. But even this did not content him. 'You neglect the idealbeauty of form,' said he, 'and propriety of expression,' I treasuredthis hint, too. I said to him, 'If you would condescend to unite ourcolouring to your drawing, you would be--what, after all, you arealready--such a master as the world ne'er saw,' 'That may not be,' saidhe, half-smiling; 'you might as well try to graft a rose on an oak: butif _you_, my son, would unite good drawing to your colouring, you mightdistance Raffaelle.' And, taking up a piece of pipeclay, he sketched outa Lazarus, and splashed in the colour. I do not altogether like it, theaction is too violent, and he has made him as black as your Moorishgirl; but still
it is a grand thing--a very grand thing--the action ofthe toe, trying to disentangle the bandage of the left leg, iswonderfully original. I have tried to paint all the rest of my pictureup to it. A little more to the right, Signora!"
"Cardinal Ippolito told me that picture of yours was very grand," saidthe Duchess. "He especially admired the different expressions of the twosisters. But he thought the figure of the Saviour too small."
"----Well," said Sebastian, after drawing for a few minutes in silence,"perfect proportion always gives the idea of smallness. The figure wason the same scale with the rest, till Michael Angelo put in his greatLazarus: and you know I could not re-touch the master's work."
"Michael Angelo writes to me sometimes," observed the Duchess, "but heis a better correspondent of my cousin, Vittoria Colonna."
Sebastian worked a little while in silence, and then said:
"Is not the Marchioness somewhat tinctured with the new opinions?"
"Yes," said Giulia, "I am afraid she is. That's the worst of being tooclever."
"Is it a proof of being so?"
"Well, clever people are apt to run after new things."
"Perhaps they see more in them than the less clever do."
"They think they do, at any rate."
"Has your ladyship looked yet into the works of the Prince of Carpi?"
"Do you mean the great heavy books you brought me from the Cardinal?No."
"They contain a masterly refutation of the heresies of Erasmus. TheCardinal thought they might confirm you in the faith."
"I am happy to say my faith wants no confirming. I would rather have hadsome novels. You may tell him so, if he says anything to you aboutit.... Have you read the books yourself?"
"I have looked into them."
"Have you read Erasmus's books?"
"No."
"Well, when I attack controversy, I will read both sides."
"That will be rather dangerous."
"How can that be? Only one side can be right."
"Your excellency is of course above danger," said Sebastian, with alittle cough, "but, for common minds, there is the danger of notdistinguishing which _is_ the right. For myself, being but a moderatelogician, and still slighter theologian, I prefer taking my religion asI have been taught it, to meddling with edged tools. The Church isirrefutable: the Church has foundations that will never be shaken. And Iam content to abide by its decisions.--A little more to the right."