Access Online - The European Library
Access Online - The European Library Access Online - The European Library
166ARIADNE.blocks of poor pale stone, till she could bidthem arise and speak.Sometimes the artist'screation is spontaneous,electric, full of sudden and eager joys, like thebirthof love itself: sometimes itisaccomplishedonly withsoretravail,and manypangs and sleeplessnights,Idee the birth of children. Whetherthe offspring of joy or of pain be tlie holiest andthe strongest, who shall say? — is our ladyof SanSisto or the Delphic Sibyl worth the most ?All this timeInever saw the one whosepleasure it had been to teach her the gladnessof laborious clays, and all the secrets of the artsthat say to the wood and the stone, " tell menthe vision wehave had of heaven." He did notsummonme, andIdid not dare to seek him.Isaw the old mother, who grew quite blind,and who struck herstaff at theemptyair,and saidtome: "So wouldIstrike the girl wereshe here;was she blind like me " that she could not see agreatlife at her feet?One night Giulio, the foreman, said to me," the master has beenill; we were very afraid."It seemed that the fever of oui' city, which had
ARIADNE. 167never touched Maryx once in aU the five-andtwentyyears which had passed since he had firststood by the white lions hi the portico of VillaMedicia,had taken hold onhimhithisunhealthyand burning summer.Isuppose the fever comes up from the soil; —our marveUous soU that, hke the water of oursprings and fountains,never changes takeit awa}'or shut it up as you may, and bears such lovelyluxuriance of leaf and blossoms; — because theearthhere has all been so scorched through andthrough with blood,and every handsbreadth ofits space is as it were a sepulchre,and the lushgrass, and the violets that are sweeter here thanever they are elsewhere, and all the deliciousmoist hanging mosses and herbs and ferns are,after aU, so rich,because born from the bodies ofvirgins and martyrs, and heroes, and all thenameless mUhons that he buried here.Blood must have soaked through the — soildeeper than any tree can plunge its roots: tenthousand animals woidd be slaughtered in thecircus in a clay, not to speak of men: — however,come whenceit may,the fever, that evenHorace
- Page 123 and 124: ARIADNE. 115Spring had come,Isay, a
- Page 125 and 126: ARIADNE. 117nightingales, and so pi
- Page 127 and 128: ARIADNE. 119foul patrician jade wru
- Page 129 and 130: ARIADNE. 121aburied village when th
- Page 131 and 132: ARIADNE. 123But for mypromise to he
- Page 133 and 134: ARIADNE. 125parts of Rome; a turn o
- Page 135 and 136: ARIADNE. 127seek to go away. He sto
- Page 137 and 138: ARIADNE. 129speak the truth. Yetit
- Page 139 and 140: ARIADNE. 131seems to me that you ar
- Page 141 and 142: ARIADNE. 133beauty against the gran
- Page 143 and 144: ARIADNE. 135Hilarion laughed ahttle
- Page 145 and 146: ARIADNE. 137that mirroredhim." That
- Page 147 and 148: ARIADNE. 139to be always seeing hea
- Page 149 and 150: ARIADNE. 141He laughed a httle, par
- Page 151 and 152: ARIADNE. 143ThenIturned,and woulcl
- Page 153 and 154: ARIADNE. 145other gain from her a m
- Page 155 and 156: ARIADNE. 147dead things none are so
- Page 157 and 158: ARIADNE. 149sometimes, and knew tho
- Page 159 and 160: ARIADNE. 151her; she was vaguely op
- Page 161 and 162: ARIADNE. 153She stayed aU the summe
- Page 163 and 164: ARIADNE. 155of tlie Nonii, to the s
- Page 165 and 166: ARIADNE. 157Then hot tears filled h
- Page 167 and 168: ARIADNE. 159A Divine City indeed, h
- Page 169 and 170: ARIADNE. 161open air of the gardens
- Page 171 and 172: CHAPTER XThat verynightImade a scul
- Page 173: ARIADNE. 165silent andlookinginto v
- Page 177 and 178: ARIADNE. 169coidd not end the phras
- Page 179 and 180: ARIADNE. 171" Iwoulcl notpromise,"
- Page 181 and 182: ARIADNE. 173that are vile canbe fai
- Page 183 and 184: CHAPTER XLThe months went on, and s
- Page 185 and 186: ARIADNE. 177Hilarion: the man made
- Page 187 and 188: ARIADNE. 179" Is that aU that you k
- Page 189 and 190: ARIADNE. 181and the apes away. IfIc
- Page 191 and 192: ARIADNE. 183would change places wit
- Page 193 and 194: ARIADNE. 185to her. Youlook strange
- Page 195 and 196: CHAPTER XII.AVhex he had goneaway t
- Page 197 and 198: ARIADNE. 189you ? Imean simply and
- Page 199 and 200: ARIADNE. 191AlmostIlonged to teU he
- Page 201 and 202: ARIADNE. 193the ways of the world a
- Page 203 and 204: ARIADNE. 195" Take my life away wit
- Page 205 and 206: ARIADNE. 197talked of; it took a ti
- Page 207 and 208: ARIADNE. 199pale Carrara marble, an
- Page 209 and 210: ARIADNE. 201bit his tired senses in
- Page 211 and 212: ARIADNE. 203pure a breath of heaven
- Page 213 and 214: ARIADNE. 205before the world, and h
- Page 215 and 216: ARIADNE. 207— for her sake. He kn
- Page 217 and 218: ARIADNE. 209" Do they indeed caU he
- Page 219 and 220: CHAPTER XIAIt was the night of the
- Page 221 and 222: ARIADNE. 213selfish effort — alas
- Page 223 and 224: ARIADNE. 215reason, when the clay i
166ARIADNE.blocks of poor pale stone, till she could bidthem arise and speak.Sometimes the artist'screation is spontaneous,electric, full of sudden and eager joys, like thebirthof love itself: sometimes itisaccomplishedonly withsoretravail,and manypangs and sleeplessnights,Idee the birth of children. Whetherthe offspring of joy or of pain be tlie holiest andthe strongest, who shall say? — is our ladyof SanSisto or the Delphic Sibyl worth the most ?All this timeInever saw the one whosepleasure it had been to teach her the gladnessof laborious clays, and all the secrets of the artsthat say to the wood and the stone, " tell menthe vision wehave had of heaven." He did notsummonme, andIdid not dare to seek him.Isaw the old mother, who grew quite blind,and who struck herstaff at theemptyair,and saidtome: "So wouldIstrike the girl wereshe here;was she blind like me " that she could not see agreatlife at her feet?One night Giulio, the foreman, said to me," the master has beenill; we were very afraid."It seemed that the fever of oui' city, which had
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