The Dramatic Works of G. E. Lessing Part 42

I do not mean that his works should be many, but his labour much: a little, but well done. But you do not come empty-handed, Conti?

CONTI.

I have brought the portrait which your Highness ordered; and another which you did not order; but as it is worthy of inspection----

PRINCE.

That one, is it? And yet I do not well remember----

CONTI.

The Countess Orsina.

PRINCE.

True. The commission, however, was given rather long ago.

CONTI.

Our beauties are not every day at the artist's command. In three months, the Countess could only make up her mind to sit once.

PRINCE.

Where are the pictures?

CONTI.

In the antechamber. I will fetch them (_exit_).

Scene III.

PRINCE.

Her portrait! Let it come; it is not herself. But perhaps I may see in the picture what I can no longer find in her person. But I have no wish to make such a discovery. The importunate painter! I almost believe that she has bribed him. But even were it so, if another picture which is pourtrayed in brighter colours and on a different canvas, could be obliterated to make room for her once more in my heart, I really think that I should be content. When I loved the Countess, I was ever gay, sprightly, and cheerful; now I am the reverse. But no, no, no; happy or unhappy, it is better as it is.

Scene IV.

_The_ Prince, Conti, _with the portraits; he places one with the face reversed against a chair, and prepares to show the other_.

CONTI.

I beg your Highness will bear in mind the limits of our art; much of the highest perfection of beauty lies altogether beyond its limits.

Look at it in this position.

PRINCE (_after a brief inspection_).

Excellent! Conti, most excellent! It does credit to your taste,--to your skill. But flattered, Conti--quite, infinitely flattered!

CONTI.

The original did not seem to be of your opinion. But, in truth, she is not more flattered than art is bound to flatter. It is the province of art to paint as plastic nature--if there is such a thing--intended her original design, without the defects which the unmanageable materials render inevitable, and free from the ravages which result from a conflict with time.

PRINCE.

The intelligent artist has therefore double merit. But the original, you say, notwithstanding all this----

CONTI.

Pardon me, Prince! The original is a person who commands my respect. I did not intend to insinuate anything to her disadvantage.

PRINCE.

As much as you please. But what said the original?

CONTI.

"I am satisfied," said the Countess, "if I am not plainer."

PRINCE.

Not plainer! The original herself!

CONTI.

And she uttered this with an expression of which the portrait affords no trace, no idea.

PRINCE.

That is just what I meant; therein lies your infinite flattery. Oh! I know well her proud, contemptuous look, which would disfigure the face of one of the Graces. I do not deny that a handsome mouth set off with a slight curl of scorn, sometimes acquires thereby additional beauty.

But, observe, it must be only slight; the look must not amount to grimace, as it does with this Countess. The eyes, too, must keep control over the disdainful charmer; eyes which the worthy Countess decidedly does not possess. You do not even give them to her in the picture.

CONTI.

Your Highness, I am perfectly amazed.

PRINCE.

And wherefore? All that could be achieved by the resources of art out of the great prominent staring Medusa eyes of the Countess, you have honourably accomplished. Honourably, I say, but less honourably would have been more honest; for tell me yourself, Conti, is the character of the individual expressed by this picture? yet it should be. You have converted pride into dignity, disdain into a smile, and the gloom of discontent into soft melancholy.

CONTI (_somewhat vexed_).

Ah! Prince, we painters expect that a portrait when finished will find the lover as warm as when he ordered it. We paint with eyes of love, and the eyes of love alone must judge our works.

PRINCE.

'Tis true, Conti; but why did you not bring it a month sooner? Lay it aside. What is the other?