the mysterious portrait-第7章

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in　his　breast；　might　perhaps　have　been　developed　into　magnificence　and

beauty；　and　have　extorted　too；　its　meed　of　tears　and　admiration！　It

seemed　as　though　those　impulses　which　he　had　known　in　other　days

re…awoke　suddenly　in　his　soul。



He　seized　a　brush　and　approached　his　canvas。　One　thought　possessed　him

wholly；　one　desire　consumed　him；　he　strove　to　depict　a　fallen　angel。

This　idea　was　most　in　harmony　with　his　frame　of　mind。　The　perspiration

started　out　upon　his　face　with　his　efforts；　but；　alas！　his　figures；

attitudes；　groups；　thoughts；　arranged　themselves　stiffly；

disconnectedly。　His　hand　and　his　imagination　had　been　too　long

confined　to　one　groove；　and　the　fruitless　effort　to　escape　from　the

bonds　and　fetters　which　he　had　imposed　upon　himself；　showed　itself　in

irregularities　and　errors。　He　had　despised　the　long；　wearisome　ladder

to　knowledge；　and　the　first　fundamental　law　of　the　future　great　man；

hard　work。　He　gave　vent　to　his　vexation。　He　ordered　all　his　later

productions　to　be　taken　out　of　his　studio；　all　the　fashionable；

lifeless　pictures；　all　the　portraits　of　hussars；　ladies；　and

councillors　of　state。



He　shut　himself　up　alone　in　his　room；　would　order　no　food；　and　devoted

himself　entirely　to　his　work。　He　sat　toiling　like　a　scholar。　But　how

pitifully　wretched　was　all　which　proceeded　from　his　hand！　He　was

stopped　at　every　step　by　his　ignorance　of　the　very　first　principles：

simple　ignorance　of　the　mechanical　part　of　his　art　chilled　all

inspiration　and　formed　an　impassable　barrier　to　his　imagination。　His

brush　returned　involuntarily　to　hackneyed　forms：　hands　folded

themselves　in　a　set　attitude；　heads　dared　not　make　any　unusual　turn；

the　very　garments　turned　out　commonplace；　and　would　not　drape

themselves　to　any　unaccustomed　posture　of　the　body。　And　he　felt　and

saw　this　all　himself。



〃But　had　I　really　any　talent？〃　he　said　at　length：　〃did　not　I　deceive

myself？〃　Uttering　these　words；　he　turned　to　the　early　works　which　he

had　painted　so　purely；　so　unselfishly；　in　former　days；　in　his　wretched

cabin　yonder　in　lonely　Vasilievsky　Ostroff。　He　began　attentively　to

examine　them　all；　and　all　the　misery　of　his　former　life　came　back　to

him。　〃Yes；〃　he　cried　despairingly；　〃I　had　talent：　the　signs　and　traces

of　it　are　everywhere　visible〃



He　paused　suddenly；　and　shivered　all　over。　His　eyes　encountered　other

eyes　fixed　immovably　upon　him。　It　was　that　remarkable　portrait　which

he　had　bought　in　the　Shtchukinui　Dvor。　All　this　time　it　had　been

covered　up；　concealed　by　other　pictures；　and　had　utterly　gone　out　of

his　mind。　Now；　as　if　by　design；　when　all　the　fashionable　portraits　and

paintings　had　been　removed　from　the　studio；　it　looked　forth；　together

with　the　productions　of　his　early　youth。　As　he　recalled　all　the

strange　events　connected　with　it；　as　he　remembered　that　this　singular

portrait　had　been；　in　a　manner；　the　cause　of　his　errors；　that　the

hoard　of　money　which　he　had　obtained　in　such　peculiar　fashion　had

given　birth　in　his　mind　to　all　the　wild　caprices　which　had　destroyed

his　talentmadness　was　on　the　point　of　taking　possession　of　him。　At

once　he　ordered　the　hateful　portrait　to　be　removed。



But　his　mental　excitement　was　not　thereby　diminished。　His　whole　being

was　shaken　to　its　foundation；　and　he　suffered　that　fearful　torture

which　is　sometimes　exhibited　when　a　feeble　talent　strives　to　display

itself　on　a　scale　too　great　for　it　and　cannot　do　so。　A　horrible　envy

took　possession　of　himan　envy　which　bordered　on　madness。　The　gall

flew　to　his　heart　when　he　beheld　a　work　which　bore　the　stamp　of

talent。　He　gnashed　his　teeth；　and　devoured　it　with　the　glare　of　a

basilisk。　He　conceived　the　most　devilish　plan　which　ever　entered　into

the　mind　of　man；　and　he　hastened　with　the　strength　of　madness　to　carry

it　into　execution。　He　began　to　purchase　the　best　that　art　produced　of

every　kind。　Having　bought　a　picture　at　a　great　price；　he　transported

it　to　his　room；　flung　himself　upon　it　with　the　ferocity　of　a　tiger；

cut　it；　tore　it；　chopped　it　into　bits；　and　stamped　upon　it　with　a　grin

of　delight。



The　vast　wealth　he　had　amassed　enabled　him　to　gratify　this　devilish

desire。　He　opened　his　bags　of　gold　and　unlocked　his　coffers。　No

monster　of　ignorance　ever　destroyed　so　many　superb　productions　of　art

as　did　this　raging　avenger。　At　any　auction　where　he　made　his

appearance；　every　one　despaired　at　once　of　obtaining　any　work　of　art。

It　seemed　as　if　an　angry　heaven　had　sent　this　fearful　scourge　into　the

world　expressly　to　destroy　all　harmony。　Scorn　of　the　world　was

expressed　in　his　countenance。　His　tongue　uttered　nothing　save　biting

and　censorious　words。　He　swooped　down　like　a　harpy　into　the　street：

and　his　acquaintances；　catching　sight　of　him　in　the　distance；　sought

to　turn　aside　and　avoid　a　meeting　with　him；　saying　that　it　poisoned

all　the　rest　of　the　day。



Fortunately　for　the　world　and　art；　such　a　life　could　not　last　long：

his　passions　were　too　overpowering　for　his　feeble　strength。　Attacks　of

madness　began　to　recur　more　frequently；　and　ended　at　last　in　the　most

frightful　illness。　A　violent　fever；　combined　with　galloping

consumption；　seized　upon　him　with　such　violence；　that　in　three　days

there　remained　only　a　shadow　of　his　former　self。　To　this　was　added

indications　of　hopeless　insanity。　Sometimes　several　men　were　unable　to

hold　him。　The　long…forgotten；　living　eyes　of　the　portrait　began　to

torment　him；　and　then　his　madness　became　dreadful。　All　the　people　who

surrounded　his　bed　seemed　to　him　horrible　portraits。　The　portrait

doubled　and　quadrupled　itself；　all　the　walls　seemed　hung　with

portraits；　which　fastened　their　living　eyes　upon　him；　portraits　glared

at　him　from　the　ceiling；　from　the　floor；　the　room　widened　and

lengthened　endlessly；　in　order　to　make　room　for　more　of　the　motionless

eyes。　The　doctor　who　had　undertaken　to　attend　him；　having　learned

something　of　his　strange　history；　strove　with　all　his　might　to　fathom

the　secret　connection　between　the　visions　of　his　fancy　and　the

occurrences　of　his　life；　but　without　the　slightest　success。　The　sick

man　understood　nothing；　felt　nothing；　save　his　own　tortures；　and　gave

utterance　only　to　frightful　yells　and　unintelligible　gibberish。　At

last　his　life　ended　in　a　final　attack　of　unutterable　suffering。

Nothing　could　be　found　of　all　his　great　wealth；　but　when　they　beheld

the　mutilated　fragments　of　grand　works　of　art；　the　value　of　which

exceeded　a　million；　they　understood　the　terrible　use　which　had　been

made　of　it。







PART　II



A　THRONG　of　carriages　and　other　vehicles　stood　at　the　entrance　of　a

house　in　which　an　auction　was　going　on　of　the　effects　of　one　of　those

wealthy　art…lovers　who　have　innocently　passed　for　Maecenases；　and　in　a

simple…minded　fashion　expended；　to　that　end；　the　millions　amassed　by

their　thrifty　fathers；　and　frequently　even　by　their　own　early　labours。

The　long　saloon　was　filled　with　the　most　motley　throng　of　visitors；

collected　like　birds　of　prey　swooping　down　upon　an　unburied　corpse。

There　was　a　whole　squadron　of　Russian　shop…keepers　from　the　Gostinnui

Dvor；　and　from　the　old…clothes　mart；　in　blue　coats　of　foreign　make。

Their　faces　and　expressions　were　a　little　more　natural　here；　and　did

not　display　that　fictitious　desire　to　be　subservient　which　is　so

marked　in　the　Russian　shop…keeper　when　he　stands　before　a　customer　in

his　shop。　Here　they　stood　upon　no　ceremony；　although　the　saloons　were

full　of　those　very　aristocrats　before　whom；　in　any　other　place；　they

would　have　been　ready　to　sweep；　with　reverence；　the　dust　brought　in　by

their　feet。　They　were　quite　at　their　ease；　handling　pictures　and　books

without　ceremony；　when　desirous　of　ascertaining　the　value　of　the

goods；　and　boldly　upsetting　bargains　mentally　secured　in　advance　by

noble　connoisseurs。　There　were　many　of　those　infallible　attendants　of

auctions　who　make　it　a　point　to　go　to　one　every　day　as　regularly　as　to

take　their　breakfast；　aristocratic　connoisseurs　who　look　upon　it　as

their　duty　not　to　miss　any　opportunity　of　adding　to　their　collections；

and　who　have　no　other　occupation　between　twelve　o'clock　and　one；　and

noble　gentlemen；　with　garments　very　threadbare；　who　make　their　daily

appearance　without　any　selfish　object　in　view；　but　merely　to　see　how

it　all　goes　off。



A　quantity　of　pictures　were　lying　about　in　disorder：　with　them　were

mingled　furniture；　and　books　with　the　cipher　of　the　former　owner；　who

never　was　moved　by　any　laudable　desire　to　glance　into　them。　Chinese

vases；　marble　slabs　for　tables；　old　and　new　furniture　with　curving

lines；　with　griffins；　sphinxes；　and　lions'　paws；　gilded　and　ungilded；

chandeliers；　sconces；　all　were　heaped　together　in　a　perfect　chaos　of

art。



The　auction　appeared　to　be　at　its　height。



The　surging　throng　was　competing　for　a　portrait　which　could　not　but

arrest　the　attention　of　all　who　possessed　any　knowledge　of　art。　The

skilled　hand　of　an　artist　was　plainly　visible　in　it。　The　portrait；

which　had　apparently　been　several　times　restored　and　renovated；

represented　the　dark　features　of　an　Asiatic　in　flowing　garments；　and

with　a　strange　and　remarkable　expression　of　countenance；　but　what

struck　the　buyers　more　than　anything　else　was　the　peculiar　liveliness

of　the　eyes。　The　more　they　were　looked　at；　the　more　did　they　seem　to

penetrate　into　the　gazer's　heart。　This　peculiarity；　this　strange

illusion　achieved　by　the　artist；　attracted　the　attention　of　nearly

all。　Many　who　had　been　bidding　gradually　withdrew；　for　the　price

offered　had　risen　to　an　incredible　sum。　There　remained　only　two

well…known　aristocrats；　amateurs　of　painting；　who　were　unwilling　to

forego　such　an　acquisition。　They　grew　warm；　and　would　probably　have

run　the　bidding　up　to　an　impossible　sum；　had　not　one　of　the　onlookers

suddenly　exclaimed；　〃Permit　me　to　interrupt　your　competition　for　a

while：　I；　perhaps；　more　than　any　other；　have　a　right　to　this

portrait。〃



These　words　at　once　drew　the　attention　of　all　to　him。　He　was　a　tall

man　of　thirty…five；　with　long　black　curls。　His　pleasant　face；　full　of

a　certain　bright　nonchalance；　indicated　a　mind　free　from　all

wearisome；　worldly　excitement；　his　garments　had　no　pretence　to

fashion：　all　about　him　indicated　the　artist。　He　was；　in　fact；　B。　the

painter；　a　man　personally　well　known　to　many　of　those　present。



〃However　strange　my　words　may　seem　to　you；〃　he　continued；　perceiving

that　the　general　attention　was　directed　to　him；　〃if　you　will　listen　to

a　short　story；　you　may　possibly　see　that　I　was　right　in　uttering　them。

Everything　assures　me　that　this　is　the　portrait　which　I　am　looking

for。〃



A　natural　curiosity　illuminated　the　faces　of　nearly　all　present；　and

even　the　auctioneer　paused　as　he　was　opening　his　mouth；　and　with

hammer　uplifted　in　the　air；　prepared　to　listen。　At　the　beginning　of

the　story；　many　glanced　involuntarily　towards　the　portrait；　but　later

on；　all　bent　their　attention　solely　on　the　narrator；　as