Chapter 3

"A pity that for my good little picture," said the old painter, pouring himself out another glass with perfect coolness. "Thou art warm, darling; so the old man would have nothing to say to the bargain?"

"Rogue!" cried Edward, flinging the picture violently away; "and on thy account I am become a rogue myself! Affronted, insulted! Oh, and how ashamed of myself, my face and neck all of a glow from top to bottom, that for thy sake I should have permitted myself such a lie!"

"It's no lie at all, manikin," said the painter, as he unwrapped the picture; "it is as genuine a Salvator Rosa as I ever painted. Thou hast never seen me at work upon it, and therefore canst not know who the author is. Thou hast no dexterity, my little simpleton; I ought not to have trusted thee with the business."

"I will be a man of honour!" cried Edward, striking the table with his fist; "I will become a steady man, and be once more respected by others and myself. I will become quite another creature, I will enter on a new course of life!"

"Why put thyself out of temper?" said the old man, renewing his draught. "I will not hinder thee; I shall rejoice to see the day. I have always, thou knowest, warned thee and lectured thee; I tried too to accustom thee to work; I wanted to initiate thee in the process of restoration, to teach thee to prepare varnishes, to grind colours, in short, I have left no stone unturned for thy benefit."

"Dog of a fellow!" cried Edward, "was I to become thy journeyman, thy colour-grinder? But in truth I sunk to-day deeper still, when I let myself be used as a knave's knave!"

"What derogatory expressions the lad makes use of!" said the painter, sniggering in his glass. "Were I to take such things to heart, here had we forthwith tilting or bitter feud. But he means well for all his warmth; the youngster has something noble in his character; only as a picture-dealer, to be sure, he is good for nothing."

Edward laid his head on the table, from which the painter hastily wiped a slop of wine away, that the youth might not dip his sleeve in it. "The dear good Salvator," he then said thoughtfully, "is supposed himself not to have led the best of lives; they even charge him with having been a bandit. When Rembrandt gave himself out for dead in his life-time, in order to raise the price of his works, he did not quite adhere to truth neither, though he died in reality some years afterwards, and so had only miscalculated a little. Suppose then, I, in all love and humility, paint a little piece like this, and gently and gradually identify myself in fancy with the old master, and all his delightful peculiarities, so that I feel as if the spirit of the dear departed guided my hand and pencil, and the thing is then finished, and affectionately winks to me its gratitude, for having executed another piece of the old virtuoso, who after all could not do every thing himself, nor live for ever, and I now, especially after a glass of wine, inspecting it with more profound attention, convince myself in right earnest that it actually is a production of the old master, and so hand it over to another lover of his, and desire only a fair recompense for my pains, in having let my hand be guided and my own genius suppressed for the time, to the detriment of my own reputation as an artist:--Is this then an offence, my darling, that cries to Heaven, to sacrifice myself in this child-like simplicity?"

He raised the recumbent head, but changed his grin of good-humour into a gravity equally distorted, on seeing the cheeks of the youth full of tears, which were gushing out of his eyes in a hot incessant stream. "Oh, my lost youth!" sobbed Edward; "oh, ye golden days, ye weeks, and years! how sinfully have I squandered you away, as though there lay not in your hours the germ of virtue, of honour, and of happiness; as though this precious treasure of time were ever to be redeemed. Like a glass of stale water have I poured forth my life and the essence of my heart. Oh! what a state of being might have opened on me, what happiness for myself and others, had not an evil genius blinded my eyes! Trees of blessing were growing and spreading a shade around me and over me, in which a friend, a wife, and the afflicted, might have found help, comfort, home, and peace; and I, in giddy wantonness, have laid the axe to this grove, and must now endure frost, storm, and heat!"

Eulenböck did not know what sort of face to make, still less what to say; for in this mood, with such sentiments, he had never seen his young friend before. At last he was glad to escape observation, and to be able snugly to empty his bottle.

"Thou art bent then on becoming virtuous, my son?" he began at last; "Good again. Verily few men are so inclined to virtue as myself, for it requires a keen eye to know even what virtue is. To act the niggard, and force people to lie in the face of God and man, is certainly none. But whoever has the true talent that way is sure to find it. If I help a sensible man to a good Salvator or Julio Romano of my own hand, and he is pleased with it, I have at all events done a better action than if I were to sell a blockhead a genuine Raphael, of which the dolt does not know the value, and at the bottom of his heart would take more delight in a tricksy Vanderwerft. My great Julio Romano I must sell in person, since thou hast neither the gift nor the luck for this kind of adventure."

"These wretched sophistries," said Edward, "can operate on _me_ no longer; that time is gone by, and thou hast only to take care they do not detect _thee_; for with the uninitiated indeed the attempt may succeed, but not with judges such as old Walther."

"Let me alone, my little darling," said the old painter; "the _judges_ are precisely the best to cheat, and with a raw novice I should not even wish to try the experiment. Oh! that good old dear Walther, that sharp little man! Didst thou not see that fine Höllenbreughel that hangs on the third pillar between the sketch of Rubens and the portrait by Vandyke? That is mine. I went to the little man with the picture. Have you a mind to buy a fine piece? 'What!' cried he, 'such mad freaks, such fooleries? That is not in my line; however, let us see. Well, in general I do not take in such absurdities; but as in this picture there is rather more grace and design than one commonly meets with in these vagaries, I will for once in a way make an exception.' In short he kept it, and shows it to people to display his comprehensive taste."

"But wilt thou," said Edward, "never turn honest man? It is surely high time."

"My young doctor," cried the old man, "I have been one long. Thou dost not understand the thing, nor art thou with all the warmth of thy outset yet at the goal. When thou hast reached the mark, and happily passed all rocks, bars, and beacons, then boldly beckon to me, and I perhaps may shape my course after thee. Till then let me alone."

"So then our career of life is parted!" said Edward, viewing him again with a look of kindness; "I have let slip much, but yet not all; I have still a part of my property, my house, remaining. Here I shall quarter myself plainly, and endeavour to procure a place as secretary or librarian to the prince who is expected here shortly, perhaps I may travel with him; perhaps elsewhere a fortunate chance--or if not, I confine myself to this spot, and seek employment in my native town."

"And when dost launch into this life of virtue?" asked the old man with a grin.

"Immediately," said the youth; "to-morrow, to-day, this hour."

"Nonsense!" said the painter, shaking his grey head; "for all good things a man must allow himself time, must make preparation, take his vantage run, close the old period with a solemn rite, and in like manner begin the new one. It was an admirable custom of our ancestors, in some districts, to celebrate the exequies of the carnival with a fit of pure genuine extravagance, to let their spirits once more run wild at the end of the holidays, and surfeit themselves with mirth, that they might afterwards indulge their devotion uninterruptedly, and without the slightest scruple of conscience. Let us observe that worshipful custom; I have a yearning, dost see, towards thee, my little pet; give us and thy mad humours once more a right choice carouse, a solemn farewell dithyrambic, that thou mayst live in our memories, especially in mine; let us be joyous over the best wine till late in the night; then thou turnest off to the right to virtue and discretion, and the rest of us stay on the left where we are."

"Guzzler!" said Edward smiling, "so long as thou findest but a pretext for getting drunk, all is well with thee. Let it be then on Twelfth Night."

"That is still four days off," sighed the old man, draining the last drop, and then silently retired.

* * * * *

"We shall have a little party to dinner today," said counsellor Walther to his daughter.

"Indeed!" said Sophia. "And will young Edward come too?"

"No," answered her father. "How comes he into your head?"

"I was only thinking," said Sophia, "that you might perhaps wish to make him some amends, by an invitation, for the disagreeable scene which he was forced to go through against your will in your house."

"To-day," replied the old gentleman, "would of all days be the least suitable, for the very man by whom the youth was affronted is to dine with us."

"Ay! he?" said the maid, with a lengthened tone.

"It looks as if you had a dislike to this stranger."

"An exceeding one," cried Sophia; "for in the first place, I cannot bear any body when one does not know exactly who he is; this incognito is a dear pleasure in a strange place, to make a man pass for something extraordinary when he has precisely nothing at all to conceal; and such is no doubt the case with this Unknown, who has all the appearance of a chamberlain or secretary out of place, and gave himself yesterday in your gallery the airs of a superintendent-general of all the missionary institutions."

"You said, in the first place; now then in the second place?" asked the father smiling.

"In the second place," said she laughing, "he is a horrid creature; and in the third place, he is intolerable; and in the fourth place, I hate him heartily."

"That is indeed first and last with you women," said the old man. "There will be besides my friend Erich, and the young painter Dietrich, and that strange creature Eulenböck."

"There we have all ages together," cried Sophia, "all kinds of taste and modes of thinking! Does not young Von Eisenschlicht come too, to spoil completely the comfort of my life?"

The father raised his forefinger threateningly; however she would not be put out, but went on volubly and pettishly: "It is true, I have no enjoyment of my life in their company; there is such chattering and ogling, such gallantry and false compliments, each making the other more intolerable, that I should like a three days' fast better than such meals. These innamoratos set my teeth on edge like unripe currants; every word they say leaves a tart taste in my mouth for a week, and spoils my palate for all better fruit. I like the old crook-nosed copper-faced sinner the best of them all, for he at least has no thoughts of transferring me like a piece of furniture into his study."

"This humour of yours," said the father, "is a defect in yourself that annoys me, indeed really concerns me; for, considering the stubbornness of your temper, I can see no chance of an alteration in you. You know my sentiments on the subject of marriage and love as it is called, how happy you would make me if you would subdue your will--"

"I must see to the kitchen," cried she suddenly: "I must do you honour to-day; only do not you forget your good wines, that Eulenböck may not give your cellar a bad name." So saying she ran out, without waiting for an answer.

The old gentleman went to look after his affairs while his daughter superintended the preparations for the table. She had broken off the conversation so suddenly, because it was her father's wish, with which she was but too well acquainted, to marry her to his friend Erich, who, though no longer a young man, was not so far advanced in years as to render the scheme ridiculous. Erich had acquired a considerable fortune in his business; he was at this moment in possession of a collection of first-rate pictures of the Italian schools, and Walther proposed that, if his daughter could be brought to consent to the match, Erich should then retire from business, and incorporate these first-rate pictures into his gallery, that his son-in-law might possess and preserve it, distinguished as it would thus become, after his death: for he dreaded the thought of this excellent collection being some time or other again dispersed, perhaps even sold at an under-price, and thrown away on men in whose hands, from want of judgment, the pictures might go to ruin. His passion for painting was so great, that he would at all events have bought his friend's pictures at a very high price, had not the purchase of a considerable estate and a large garden, which he wished to leave to his daughter, prevented him, and rendered any outlay, but especially to such an amount, impracticable. As he was writing his letters these thoughts were continually diverting his attention. He then bethought himself of the young painter Dietrich, a handsome light-haired youth; and though his style of practising his art was as little to his taste as that of his dress, he would still have been glad to embrace him as his son-in-law, because he was convinced that the young man would cherish the highest reverence for his intended bequest. Old Eulenböck could not enter into his thoughts with a view to his plans; but since the day before he had viewed the stranger connoisseur with an eye of paternal affection, and hence the petulant answer in which his daughter had expressed herself about him gave him so much dissatisfaction. He would not own it to himself, but his thoughts, when he looked into futurity, were bent much more towards the preservation of his gallery than the happiness of his child. Even young Von Eisenschlicht, the son of an usurer, would have been acceptable to him as a son-in-law, for the young man's taste had been tolerably cultivated in his travels; and as he possessed at the same time his father's propensities, there was good ground to expect that he would, from every consideration, treat so valuable a collection with respect.

Thus passed the forenoon, and the guests dropped in one after the other. First of all the youngest, Dietrich, in what is called the old German costume, his flaxen hair flowing down his shoulders, and with a short light beard which did not disfigure his ruddy transparent face. He immediately made anxious inquiry after the daughter, and she appeared, in a dress of green silk, which gave a surprising relief to the brilliance of the face and neck. The young man, with a manner at once embarrassed and pressing, immediately began a conversation with Sophia, which grew the more dry, the more transcendent he endeavoured to make it. They were interrupted, to the comfort of both, by the appearance of old Eulenböck, whose brown-red visage peered oddly out of a pea-green waistcoat and whitish frock, he being, as is often the case with decidedly ugly men, fond of dressing in glaring colours. The young folks could hardly stifle a laugh at seeing him wheel awkwardly in, pay his respects with a grimace, and stumble in an unsuccessful attempt at politeness, while his gestures rendered his wry face, little sharp eyes, and twisted nose, the more conspicuous in their oddity. The stranger made the company wait for him a long while, and Sophia again rallied his presumption in playing the man of consequence, till at last he appeared, plainly dressed, and enabled the party to proceed to the dining-room, where they found Erich, who had been hanging a picture there which the stranger and the painters were to inspect. Sophia sat between Erich and the stranger, though Dietrich had made an unavailing attempt to wedge himself in by her side. Eulenböck, who observed every thing, and was never so well pleased as when he could wrap his malice in the disguise of good-nature, squeezed the young man's hand, and thanked him with seeming emotion for having cruised about so long merely to sit by the side of an old man who, it was true, also loved and practised the art, but still with his declining powers could no longer emulate the flight of the new school, though its enthusiasm rekindled his old fire, and warmed his chilled spirits. Dietrich, who was yet young enough to take all this in earnest, did not know how to express gratitude enough, nor to put forth modesty sufficient to counterbalance this humility. The old rogue was delighted with the success of his irony, and continued to open the heart of the good-natured youth, who already fancied he saw a scholar of his own in this old tyro, and thereupon began secretly to calculate how he should employ his practical knowledge for higher ends, without letting the veteran perceive that his new teacher was at the same time his scholar.

While these two were thus trying to deceive each other, the conversation of the stranger and his host had fallen, accidentally on the one side, and by judicious management on the other, on the topic of matrimony; for old Walther seldom let slip an opportunity of delivering his sentiments on that subject. "I have never," said he, "been able to coincide with the views which for now nearly half a century have become a general fashion. I call them a fashion, because, though I too have been young in my time, I could never convince myself that they were founded in nature. Is it possible to deny that some men are liable at times to passionate moods and excesses? We have but too frequently been forced to perceive the evil consequences of anger, drunkenness, jealousy, and rage. So it cannot be denied that a variety of mischief and strange catastrophes have sprung from those exaggerated feelings to which we give the name of love. The only question is as to the absurdity of which men are guilty when they avoid all other distractions, and seek to wean themselves from their subjection to sudden impulses of passion, while nevertheless for some time past it has become a common boast, and has been considered even as necessary to life, to have experienced love, and its wild moods and passionate distractions."

The stranger looked at his host seriously and nodded assent, thereupon the old gentleman proceeded with a raised voice:

"Should one after all be disposed to make some degree of concession, and admit that there is something natural in the moods of these lovers, in which, as they tell us, the whole world appears to them in a more beautiful light, and they are conscious of their powers being heightened and multiplied (though in general during that waking dream they are sluggish and incapable of labour), what, I ask, avails all this, supposing it even to take the happiest turn, towards concluding a rational good marriage? I would never give my consent were I to have the misfortune to observe this sort of infatuation in my daughter."

Sophia smiled; young Dietrich looked at her with a blush, and Eulenböck kept drinking with great satisfaction, while the stranger gravely listened to the old man, who, sure of his point, went on with so much the more zeal: "No; happy the man who, a total stranger to this preposterous passion, conceives the rational resolution of entering into the wedded state; and blest the maid who decorously finds a husband without having ever acted with him those scenes of frenzy; for then results that content, that quiet, and blessedness, which was not unknown to our forefathers, but which the modern world thinks beneath its notice. In those marriages, which were contracted after rational deliberation in humility and quiet resignation, the men of former days experienced, in growing confidence, in increasing tenderness, and reciprocal indulgence for each other's infirmities, a happiness which appears too trivial to the present arrogant generation, and it therefore rears in the garden of life no fruits but wretchedness and want, discontent and misunderstanding, discord and contempt. Early habituated to the intoxication of passion, they seek the same in wedlock, and despise the necessary duties of ordinary life, renew their love-tricks at every turn in reiterated variations which have constantly less and less of novelty, and so are lost in worthlessness and self-delusion."

"Very bitter, but true," said the Unknown, with a thoughtful air.

"It is with this as with all bitters," whispered Sophia, "they fall too heavy on the palate; one cannot rightly distinguish whether it is a taste, or whether it only deadens all taste; such things are of course true for one who likes them."

Eulenböck, who had also heard this remark, laughed, and the father, who had only half caught what had passed, addressed himself gaily to his unknown guest: "We are agreed then that none but marriages of convenience, as they are called, can be prosperous; and I shall never hesitate to give my only daughter, who will not be portionless or poor, to a man, whatever be his rank, whose character I esteem, and whose acquirements, particularly on the subject of the arts, I have reason to respect, that my grandchildren may still reap the fruits of my industry, and that the treasures which have been collected in this mansion by love for the arts, self-denial, study, and indefatigable diligence, be not scattered to the four winds, and over the houses of the ignorant."

He looked at the stranger with a complacent smile; but the latter, who till now had graciously met his advances, put on something like a scowl, and said after a short pause: "The collections of private persons can never subsist long; a lover of the arts, if he has made a collection, should sell his treasures at a fair price to some prince, or embody them by his will in some great gallery. For this reason I cannot approve of your plan with regard to your daughter, though I agree with you in your views of matrimony. And in any case marriage is an affair full of risk. If I were not engaged, and compelled by a thousand urgent motives not to break my word, my inclination would lead me never to marry."

The old gentleman coloured and hung his head, and soon after began a conversation with his neighbour on another topic. "The late auction of engravings," said the picture-dealer, "has not turned out so productive by a great deal as the owner anticipated." "That is frequently the case with auctions," said the daughter, briskly throwing in her word; "no man therefore ought to meddle with them who is not driven to it by extreme necessity."

Dietrich was yet too inexperienced to perceive the connexion of this dialogue; he declaimed sincerely and warmly on the barbarism of auctions, in which the most precious rarities are often overlooked, many works damaged by the gapers and understrappers, and the reputation of great masters, as well as the feelings of their genuine admirers, receive painful shocks. By this he won the good opinion of the father, who brightened up and gave him a gracious assent. Sophia, afraid perhaps that a new proposal was to be brought forward under cover of enthusiasm for the arts, hastily asked the young painter whether he should soon have finished his picture of the Virgin, or whether he meant first to complete his Descent from the Cross.