anner.bloodandgold(v2)-第47章

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　　　I　vowed　that　every　time　I　came　to　them　I　would　light　the　one　hundred　candles。　It　would　be　a　small　proof　of　my　undying　love。
　　　What　caused　me　to　do　such　a　thing？　I　have　no　true　idea。　But　after　that　I　kept　a　great　supply　of　candles　always　in　the　shrine；　I　stored　them　behind　the　two　figures；　and　after　the　offering；　I　would　replenish　the　bronze　holder　and　take　away　all　melted　wax。
　　　When　all　this　had　been　done；　I　returned　to　Florence　and　to　Venice；　and　to　the　rich　high…walled　little　city　of　Siena；　to　study　paintings　of　all　sorts。
　　　Indeed；　I　wandered　through　palaces　and　churches　throughout　Italy；　quite　drunken　on　what　I　beheld。
　　　As　I　have　described；　a　great　fusion　had　taken　place　between　Christian　themes　and　ancient　pagan　style；　which　was　developing　everywhere。　And　though　I　still　perceived　Botticelli　to　be　the　Master；　I　was　taken　aback　by　the　plasticity　and　wonder　of　much　of　what　I　saw。
　　　The　voices　in　the　taverns　and　in　the　wine　shops　told　me　I　ought　to　go　North　to　see　paintings　as　well。
　　　　　
　　　Now　this　was　news　to　me；　for　North　had　always　meant　the　land　of　the　less　civilized；　but　so　great　was　my　hunger　for　the　new　styles　that　I　did　as　I　was　told。
　　　I　found　throughout　all　of　northern　Europe　an　intense　and　plex　civilization　which　I　had　surely　underestimated；　most　particularly　I　think　in　France。　There　were　great　cities　in　existence　and　Royal　Courts　which　supported　painting。　There　was　much　for　me　to　study。
　　　But　I　did　not　love　the　art　which　I　saw。
　　　I　respected　the　works　of　Jan　van　Eyck；　and　Rogier　van　der　Weyden；　of　Hugo　van　der　Goes；　and　of　Hieronymus　Bosch　and　many　other　nameless　masters　whom　I　beheld；　but　their　work　did　not　delight　me　as　did　the　work　of　the　Italian　painters。　The　Northern　world　was　not　as　lyrical。　It　was　not　as　sweet。　It　still　bore　the　grotesque　stamp　of　the　work　of　purely　religious　art。
　　　So　I　soon　returned　to　the　cities　of　Italy　where　I　was　richly　rewarded　for　my　wanderings　with　no　end　in　sight。
　　　I　soon　learnt　that　Botticelli　had　studied　with　a　great　master；　Filippo　Lippi；　and　that　this　one's　son；　Filippino　Lippi；　was　working　with　Botticelli　right　now。　Other　painters　whom　I　loved　included　Gozzoli　and　Signorelli；　and　Piero　della　Francesca　and　beyond　that　so　many　that　I　do　not　want　to　mention　their　names。
　　　But　all　during　my　study　of　painting；　my　little　travels；　my　long　nights　of　adoring　attention　to　this　or　that　wall；　or　this　or　that　altarpiece；　I　did　not　let　myself　dream　of　bringing　Botticelli　to　me；　and　I　never　lingered　long　near　any　place　where　he　was。
　　　I　knew　that　he　prospered。　I　knew　that　he　painted。　And　that　was　quite　enough　for　me。
　　　But　an　idea　had　e　to　brew　in　me…an　idea　as　strong　as　the　earlier　dream　of　seducing　Botticelli　had　been。
　　　What　if　I　were　to　reenter　the　world　again；　and　to　live　in　it　as　a　painter？　Oh；　not　a　working　painter　who　took　missions；　that　would　be　nonsense；　but　an　eccentric　gentleman　who　chose　to　paint　for　his　own　pleasure；　admitting　mortals　to　his　house　to　dine　at　his　table　and　drink　his　wine。
　　　Had　I　not　done　so　in　a　bumbling　way　in　the　ancient　nights　before　the　first　sack　of　Rome？　Yes；　I　had　painted　my　own　walls　with　crude；　hasty　images；　and　I　had　let　my　good…natured　guests　laugh　at　me。
　　　Oh　yes；　a　thousand　years　had　passed　since　then；　more　in　fact；　and　I　could　no　longer　easily　pass　for　human。　I　was　too　pale　and　too　dangerously　strong。　But　was　I　not　more　clever　now；　more　wise；　more　practiced　with　the　Mind　Gift；　and　more　willing　to　mask　my　skin　with　whatever　emollients　were　required　to　dim　its　preternatural　gleam？
　　　I　was　desperate　to　do　it！
　　　Of　course　it　would　not　be　in　Florence。　That　was　far　too　close　to　Botticelli。　I　would　attract　his　notice　and　were　he　to　set　foot　under　my　roof；　I　would　be　driven　to　extremes　of　pain。　I　was　in　love　with　the　man。　I　could　not　deny　it。　But　I　had　another；　most　marvelous　choice。
　　　It　was　the　gorgeous　and　glittering　city　of　Venice　which　drew　me　with　its　indescribably　majestic　palaces；　their　windows　open　to　the　constant　breezes　of　the　Adriatic；　and　its　dark　winding　canals。
　　　It　seemed　I　should　make　a　new　and　spectacular　beginning　there；　purchasing　for　myself　the　finest　house　available；　and　acquiring　a　bevy　of　apprentices　to　prepare　my　paints　for　me；　and　the　walls　of　my　own　house　which　would　eventually　receive　my　best　efforts　after　I　had　done　some　panels　and　canvases　to　once　again　learn　my　craft。
　　　As　for　my　identity　I　would　be　Marius　de　Romanus；　a　man　of　mystery　and　incalculable　wealth。　Simply　put；　I　would　bribe　those　I　had　to　bribe　to　obtain　the　right　to　remain　in　Venice；　and　thereafter　spend　freely　among　those　who　came　to　know　me　in　the　smallest　capacity；　and　give　generously　to　my　apprentices　who　would　be　recipients　of　the　finest　education　I　could　obtain　for　them。
　　　Understand　please　that　in　this　time　the　cities　of　Florence　and　Venice　were　not　part　of　one　country。　Far　from　it。　Each　was　a　country　unto　itself。　And　so　being　in　Venice　I　was　quite　removed　from　Botticelli；　and　would　be　subject　to　very　important　laws　which　the　citizens　of　Venice　were　required　to　obey。
　　　Now　as　to　the　matter　of　my　appearance　I　intended　to　be　careful　in　the　extreme。　Imagine　the　effect　upon　a　mortal　heart　were　I　to　reveal　myself　in　all　my　coldness；　a　blood　drinker　of　some　fifteen　hundred　years　in　age　with　purely　white　skin　and　flashing　blue　eyes。　So　the　matter　of　emollients　was　no　small　thing。
　　　Renting　rooms　in　the　city；　I　purchased　from　the　perfume　shops　the　very　finest　tinted　salves　I　could　find。　Then　to　my　skin　I　applied　these　ointments；　carefully　inspecting　the　results　in　the　finest　mirrors　which　could　be　had。　I　soon　made　a　blending　of　salves　which　was　most　perfect　for　not　only　darkening　my　cold　plexion；　but　for　bringing　back　to　visibility　in　it　the　finest　little　wrinkles　or　lines。
　　　I　myself　had　not　known　that　these　lines　of　human　expression　still　remained　to　me；　and　I　was　most　happy　to　discover　them；　and　I　rather　liked　the　image　that　I　presented　to　the　glass。　As　for　the　perfume；　it　was　pleasing；　and　I　realized　that　once　settled　in　my　own　house；　I　could　have　the　proper　salves　made　for　me　and　have　them　always　on　hand。
　　　It　took　some　months　to　plete　my　entire　plan。
　　　And　this　was　largely　because　I　had　fallen　in　love　with　one　particular　palazzo；　a　house　of　great　beauty；　its　facade　covered　in　glistering　marble　tiles；　its　arches　in　the　Moorish　style；　and　its　immense　rooms　more　luxurious　than　anything　I　had　ever　beheld　in　all　my　nights；　and　even　my　long　ago　days。　The　lofty　ceilings　amazed　me。　We　had　known　nothing　like　them　in　old　Rome；　at　least　not　in　a　private　house。　And　on　top　of　the　immense　roof　was　a　carefully　arranged　roof　garden　from　which　one　could　view　the　sea。
　　　Once　the　ink　was　dry　upon　the　parchment；　I　set　out　to　purchase　for　myself　the　finest　furnishings　imaginable…coffered　beds；　desks；　chairs；　tables；　all　the　usual　appointments　including　gold…threaded　draperies　for　every　window…and　I　set　to　the　task　of　managing　all　this　a　clever　and　genial　old　man　named　Vincenzo；　a　creature　of　extremely　solid　health；　whom　I　had　bought　almost　as　if　he　were　a　slave　from　a　family　who　had　no　more　use　for　him　and　kept　him　about　in　shameful　neglect　because　he　had　once　educated　their　sons。
　　　I　saw　in　Vincenzo　just　the　sort　of　governor　I　would　need　for　all　the　apprentices　I　meant　to　buy　from　their　Masters；　boys　who　would　bring　some　skill　already　learnt　to　the　tasks　they　had　to　do　for　me。　I　was　also　pleased　with　the　fact　that　the　man　was　already　old　which　meant　I　did　not　have　to　be　tormented　by　the　spectacle　of　youth　dying　in　him。　Rather　I　could　pride　myself；　perhaps　foolishly；　on　visiting　upon　him　a　rather　splendid　old　age。
　　　How　did　I　find　the　creature？　I　went　about　reading　minds　to　discover　what　I　wanted。
　　　I　was　now　more　powerful　than　ever；　I　could　find　the　Evil　Doer　effortlessly。　I　could　hear　the　secret　thoughts　of　those　who　sought　to　cheat　me　or　those　who　loved　the　mere　sight　of　me。　And　the　latter　was　a　dangerous　thing。
　　　Why　dangerous；　you　might　ask？　The　answer　is　that　I　was　now　more　than　ever　susceptible　to　love；　and　when　seen　with　loving　eyes　I　knew　it　and　I　slowed　my　pace。
　　　What　a　strange　mood　would　descend　upon　me　while　walking　in　the　arcade　along　San　Marco　if　someone　should　be　looking　at　me　admiringly。
　　　
　　　
　　　I　would　turn　about；　taking　my　time；　and　double　back　perhaps；　and　only　reluctantly　move　away；　rather　like　a　bird　in　some　northern　clime　enjoying　the　warmth　of　the　sun　on　its　wings。
　　　Meantime；　with　gold　in　his　hands；　Vincenzo　was　sent　to　buy　fine　clothes　for　himself。　I　would　make　a　gentleman　of　him；　in　so　far　as　the　sumptuary　laws　allowed。
　　　And　seated　at　my　new　desk　in　a　spacious　bedchamber　floored　in　marble　with　windows　open　to　the　winds　off　the　canal；　I　wrote　out　lists　of　those　additional　luxuries　which　I　desired。
　　　I　wanted　a　lavish　old　Roman…style　bath　built　for　me　in　this　bedchamber；　so　that　I　could　enjoy　the　warm　water　whenever　I　wished。　I　wanted　shelves　for　my　books；　and　a　finer　chair　for　this　desk。　Of　course　there　should　be　another　library。　What　was　a　house　to　me　if　it　did　not　possess　a　library？　I　wanted　the　finest　clothing；　the　fashionable　hats　and　leather　shoes。
　　　I　drew　pictures　to　guide　those　who　would　carry　out　my　designs。
　　　These　were　heady　times。　I　was　a　part　of　life　once　more　and　my　heart　was　beating　to　a　human　pace。
　　　Hailing　a　gondola　at　the　quais；　I　traveled　the　canals　for　hours　looking　up　at　the　spectacular　facades　which　made　up　the　waterways　of　Venice。　I　listened　to　the　voices　everywhere。　I　lay　back　sometimes　on　my　elbow　and　gazed　up　at　the　stars。
　　　At　various　goldsmith　shops　and　painters'　workshops　I　chose　my　first　gathering　of　apprentices；　taking　every　opportunity　to　select　the　brilliant　ones　who　were　for　various　reasons　among　the　wronged；　and　neglected；　and　abused。　They　would　show　me　profound　loyalty　and　untapped　knowledge；　and　I　sent　them　off　to　their　new　home　with　gold　coins　in　their　hands。
　　　Of　course　I　procured　clever　assistants　because　those　were　necessary；　but　I　knew　I　would　be　very　successful　with　the　poorlings。　Force　was　riot　required。
　　　Meantime；　it　was　my　wish　that　my　boys　should　be　educated　for　the　university…not　a　customary　thing　with　a　painter's　apprentice…so　I　chose　tutors　for　them　and　arranged　for　these　men　to　e　to　my　house　in　the　daylight　hours　to　perform　instruction　as　required。
　　　The　boys　would　learn　Latin；　Greek；　philosophy；　the　newfound　and　much　valued　〃classics；〃　some　mathematics　and　whatever　they　needed　to　proceed　in　life。　If　they　excelled　in　painting　and　they　chose　it；　they　could　of　course　forget　the　university　and　follow　the　painter's　path。
　　　
　　　
　　　Finally　I　had　a　houseful　of　healthy　and　noisy　activity。　There　were　cooks　in　the　kitchen；　and　musicians　teaching　my　boys　to　sing　and　play　the　lute。　There　were　dancing　instructors　and　there　were　fencing　matches　over　the　marble　floors　of　the　great　salons。
　　　But　I　did　not　open　my　doors　to　the　populace　as　I　had　done　in　long　ago　Rome。
　　　I　was　too　wary　to　do　such　a　thing　in　Venice；　too　unsure　of　my　ruse；　too　uncertain　of　what　questions　my　mad　painting　might　arouse。
　　　No；　I　need　only　have　my　young　male　assistants；　I　fancied；　both　to　keep　me　pany　and　to　help　me；　for　there　was　much　to　be　done　preparing　the　walls　for　my　frescoes　and　covering　m