cousin betty-第59部分

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courage　above　all　thingsa　sort　of　courage　of　which　the　vulgar　have
no　conception；　and　which　has　never　perhaps　been　described　till　now。

Driven　by　the　dreadful　stress　of　poverty；　goaded　by　Lisbeth；　and　kept
by　her　in　blinders；　as　a　horse　is；　to　hinder　it　from　seeing　to　the
right　and　left　of　its　road；　lashed　on　by　that　hard　woman；　the
personification　of　Necessity；　a　sort　of　deputy　Fate；　Wenceslas；　a　born
poet　and　dreamer；　had　gone　on　from　conception　to　execution；　and
overleaped；　without　sounding　it；　the　gulf　that　divides　these　two
hemispheres　of　Art。　To　muse；　to　dream；　to　conceive　of　fine　works；　is　a
delightful　occupation。　It　is　like　smoking　a　magic　cigar　or　leading　the
life　of　a　courtesan　who　follows　her　own　fancy。　The　work　then　floats　in
all　the　grace　of　infancy；　in　the　mad　joy　of　conception；　with　the
fragrant　beauty　of　a　flower；　and　the　aromatic　juices　of　a　fruit
enjoyed　in　anticipation。

The　man　who　can　sketch　his　purpose　beforehand　in　words　is　regarded　as
a　wonder；　and　every　artist　and　writer　possesses　that　faculty。　But
gestation；　fruition；　the　laborious　rearing　of　the　offspring；　putting
it　to　bed　every　night　full　fed　with　milk；　embracing　it　anew　every
morning　with　the　inexhaustible　affection　of　a　mother's　heart；　licking
it　clean；　dressing　it　a　hundred　times　in　the　richest　garb　only　to　be
instantly　destroyed；　then　never　to　be　cast　down　at　the　convulsions　of
this　headlong　life　till　the　living　masterpiece　is　perfected　which　in
sculpture　speaks　to　every　eye；　in　literature　to　every　intellect；　in
painting　to　every　memory；　in　music　to　every　heart！This　is　the　task
of　execution。　The　hand　must　be　ready　at　every　instant　to　come　forward
and　obey　the　brain。　But　the　brain　has　no　more　a　creative　power　at
command　than　love　has　a　perennial　spring。

The　habit　of　creativeness；　the　indefatigable　love　of　motherhood　which
makes　a　motherthat　miracle　of　nature　which　Raphael　so　perfectly
understoodthe　maternity　of　the　brain；　in　short；　which　is　so
difficult　to　develop；　is　lost　with　prodigious　ease。　Inspiration　is　the
opportunity　of　genius。　She　does　not　indeed　dance　on　the　razor's　edge；
she　is　in　the　air　and　flies　away　with　the　suspicious　swiftness　of　a
crow；　she　wears　no　scarf　by　which　the　poet　can　clutch　her；　her　hair　is
a　flame；　she　vanishes　like　the　lovely　rose　and　white　flamingo；　the
sportsman's　despair。　And　work；　again；　is　a　weariful　struggle；　alike
dreaded　and　delighted　in　by　these　lofty　and　powerful　natures　who　are
often　broken　by　it。　A　great　poet　of　our　day　has　said　in　speaking　of
this　overwhelming　labor；　〃I　sit　down　to　it　in　despair；　but　I　leave　it
with　regret。〃　Be　it　known　to　all　who　are　ignorant！　If　the　artist　does
not　throw　himself　into　his　work　as　Curtius　sprang　into　the　gulf；　as　a
soldier　leads　a　forlorn　hope　without　a　moment's　thought；　and　if　when
he　is　in　the　crater　he　does　not　dig　on　as　a　miner　does　when　the　earth
has　fallen　in　on　him；　if　he　contemplates　the　difficulties　before　him
instead　of　conquering　them　one　by　one；　like　the　lovers　in　fairy　tales；
who　to　win　their　princesses　overcome　ever　new　enchantments；　the　work
remains　incomplete；　it　perishes　in　the　studio　where　creativeness
becomes　impossible；　and　the　artist　looks　on　at　the　suicide　of　his　own
talent。

Rossini；　a　brother　genius　to　Raphael；　is　a　striking　instance　in　his
poverty…stricken　youth；　compared　with　his　latter　years　of　opulence。
This　is　the　reason　why　the　same　prize；　the　same　triumph；　the　same　bays
are　awarded　to　great　poets　and　to　great　generals。

Wenceslas；　by　nature　a　dreamer；　had　expended　so　much　energy　in
production；　in　study；　and　in　work　under　Lisbeth's　despotic　rule；　that
love　and　happiness　resulted　in　reaction。　His　real　character
reappeared；　the　weakness；　recklessness；　and　indolence　of　the　Sarmatian
returned　to　nestle　in　the　comfortable　corners　of　his　soul；　whence　the
schoolmaster's　rod　had　routed　them。

For　the　first　few　months　the　artist　adored　his　wife。　Hortense　and
Wenceslas　abandoned　themselves　to　the　happy　childishness　of　a
legitimate　and　unbounded　passion。　Hortense　was　the　first　to　release
her　husband　from　his　labors；　proud　to　triumph　over　her　rival；　his　Art。
And；　indeed；　a　woman's　caresses　scare　away　the　Muse；　and　break　down
the　sturdy；　brutal　resolution　of　the　worker。

Six　or　seven　months　slipped　by；　and　the　artist's　fingers　had　forgotten
the　use　of　the　modeling　tool。　When　the　need　for　work　began　to　be　felt；
when　the　Prince　de　Wissembourg；　president　of　the　committee　of
subscribers；　asked　to　see　the　statue；　Wenceslas　spoke　the　inevitable
byword　of　the　idler；　〃I　am　just　going　to　work　on　it；〃　and　he　lulled
his　dear　Hortense　with　fallacious　promises　and　the　magnificent　schemes
of　the　artist　as　he　smokes。　Hortense　loved　her　poet　more　than　ever；
she　dreamed　of　a　sublime　statue　of　Marshal　Montcornet。　Montcornet
would　be　the　embodied　ideal　of　bravery；　the　type　of　the　cavalry
officer；　of　courage　/a　la　Murat/。　Yes；　yes；　at　the　mere　sight　of　that
statue　all　the　Emperor's　victories　were　to　seem　a　foregone　conclusion。
And　then　such　workmanship！　The　pencil　was　accommodating　and　answered
to　the　word。

By　way　of　a　statue　the　result　was　a　delightful　little　Wenceslas。

When　the　progress　of　affairs　required　that　he　should　go　to　the　studio
at　le　Gros…Caillou　to　mould　the　clay　and　set　up　the　life…size　model；
Steinbock　found　one　day　that　the　Prince's　clock　required　his　presence
in　the　workshop　of　Florent　and　Chanor；　where　the　figures　were　being
finished；　or；　again；　the　light　was　gray　and　dull；　to…day　he　had
business　to　do；　to…morrow　they　had　a　family　dinner；　to　say　nothing　of
indispositions　of　mind　and　body；　and　the　days　when　he　stayed　at　home
to　toy　with　his　adored　wife。

Marshal　the　Prince　de　Wissembourg　was　obliged　to　be　angry　to　get　the
clay　model　finished；　he　declared　that　he　must　put　the　work　into　other
hands。　It　was　only　by　dint　of　endless　complaints　and　much　strong
language　that　the　committee　of　subscribers　succeeded　in　seeing　the
plaster…cast。　Day　after　day　Steinbock　came　home；　evidently　tired；
complaining　of　this　〃hodman's　work〃　and　his　own　physical　weakness。
During　that　first　year　the　household　felt　no　pinch；　the　Countess
Steinbock；　desperately　in　love　with　her　husband　cursed　the　War
Minister。　She　went　to　see　him；　she　told　him　that　great　works　of　art
were　not　to　be　manufactured　like　cannon；　and　that　the　Statelike
Louis　XIV。；　Francis　I。；　and　Leo　X。ought　to　be　at　the　beck　and　call
of　genius。　Poor　Hortense；　believing　she　held　a　Phidias　in　her　embrace；
had　the　sort　of　motherly　cowardice　for　her　Wenceslas　that　is　in　every
wife　who　carries　her　love　to　the　pitch　of　idolatry。

〃Do　not　be　hurried；〃　said　she　to　her　husband；　〃our　whole　future　life
is　bound　up　with　that　statue。　Take　your　time　and　produce　a
masterpiece。〃

She　would　go　to　the　studio；　and　then　the　enraptured　Steinbock　wasted
five　hours　out　of　seven　in　describing　the　statue　instead　of　working　at
it。　He　thus　spent　eighteen　months　in　finishing　the　design；　which　to
him　was　all…important。

When　the　plaster　was　cast　and　the　model　complete；　poor　Hortense；　who
had　looked　on　at　her　husband's　toil；　seeing　his　health　really　suffer
from　the　exertions　which　exhaust　a　sculptor's　frame　and　arms　and　hands
H