第 17 节
作者:
悟来悟去 更新:2021-02-25 00:56 字数:9320
mystery of successful portrait…painting in a few words。〃
〃May I beg; then;〃 said he; 〃that you will depart from the usual
practice in my case; and draw me with all my defects; exactly as I am? The
fact is;〃 he went on; after a moment's pause; 〃the likeness you are now
preparing to take is intended for my mother。 my roving disposition makes
me a great anxiety to her; and she parted from me this last time very sadly
and unwillingly。 I don't know how the idea came into my head; but it
struck me this morning that I could not better employ the time while I was
delayed here on shore than by getting my likeness done to send to her as a
keepsake。 She has no portrait of me since I was a child; and she is sure to
value a drawing of me more than anything else I could send to her。 I only
trouble you with this explanation to prove that I am really sincere in my
wish to be drawn unflatteringly; exactly as I am。〃
Secretly respecting and admiring him for what he had just said; I
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promised that his directions should be implicitly followed; and began to
work immediately。 Before I had pursued my occupation for ten minutes;
the conversation began to flag; and the usual obstacle to my success with a
sitter gradually set itself up between us。 Quite unconsciously; of course;
Mr。 Faulkner stiffened his neck; shut his mouth; and contracted his
eyebrowsevidently under the impression that he was facilitating the
process of taking his portrait by making his face as like a lifeless mask as
possible。 All traces of his natural animated expression were fast
disappearing; and he was beginning to change into a heavy and rather
melancholy…looking man。
This complete alteration was of no great consequence so long as I was
only engaged in drawing the outline of his face and the general form of his
features。 I accordingly worked on doggedly for more than an hour; then
left off to point my chalks again; and to give my sitter a few minutes' rest。
Thus far the likeness had not suffered through Mr。 Faulkner's unfortunate
notion of the right way of sitting for his portrait; but the time of difficulty;
as I well knew; was to come。 It was impossible for me to think of putting
any expression into the drawing unless I could contrive some means; when
he resumed his chair; of making him look like himself again。 〃I will talk to
him about foreign parts;〃 thought I; 〃and try if I can't make him forget that
he is sitting for his picture in that way。〃
While I was pointing my chalks; Mr。 Faulkner was walking up and
down the room。 He chanced to see the portfolio I had brought with me
leaning against the wall; and asked if there were any sketches in it。 I told
him there were a few which I had made during my recent stay in Paris。 〃In
Paris?〃 he repeated; with a look of interest; 〃may I see them?〃
I gave him the permission he asked as a matter of course。 Sitting down;
he took the portfolio on his knee; and began to look through it。 He turned
over the first five sketches rapidly enough; but when he came to the sixth I
saw his face flush directly; and observed that he took the drawing out of
the portfolio; carried it to the window; and remained silently absorbed in
the contemplation of it for full five minutes。 After that he turned round to
me; and asked very anxiously if I had any objection to parting with that
sketch。
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It was the least interesting drawing of the collectionmerely a view in
one of the streets running by the backs of the houses in the Palais Royal。
Some four or five of these houses were comprised in the view; which was
of no particular use to me in any way; and which was too valueless; as a
work of art; for me to think of selling it。 I begged his acceptance of it at
once。 He thanked me quite warmly; and then; seeing that I looked a little
surprised at the odd selection he had made from my sketches; laughingly
asked me if I could guess why he had been so anxious to become
possessed of the view which I had given him。
〃Probably;〃 I answered; 〃there is some remarkable historical
association connected with that street at the back of the Palais Royal; of
which I am ignorant。〃
〃No;〃 said Mr。 Faulkner; 〃at least none that /I/ know of。 The only
association connected with the place in /my/ mind is a purely personal
association。 Look at this house in your drawingthe house with the water…
pipe running down it from top to bottom。 I once passed a night therea
night I shall never forget to the day of my death。 I have had some
awkward travelling adventures in my time; but /that/ adventure! Well;
never mind; suppose we begin the sitting。 I make but a bad return for your
kindness in giving me the sketch by thus wasting your time in mere talk。〃
〃Come! come!〃 thought I; as he went back to the sitter's chair; 〃I shall
see your natural expression on your face if I can only get you to talk about
that adventure。〃 It was easy enough to lead him in the right direction。 At
the first hint from me; he returned to the subject of the house in the back
street。 Without; I hope; showing any undue curiosity; I contrived to let him
see that I felt a deep interest in everything he now said。 After two or three
preliminary hesitations; he at last; to my great joy; fairly started on the
narrative of his adventure。 In the interest of his subject he soon completely
forgot that he was sitting for his portrait;the very expression that I
wanted came over his face;and my drawing proceeded toward
completion; in the right direction; and to the best purpose。 At every fresh
touch I felt more and more certain that I was now getting the better of my
grand difficulty; and I enjoyed the additional gratification of having my
work lightened by the recital of a true story; which possessed; in my
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estimation; all the excitement of the most exciting romance。
This; as I recollect it; is how Mr。 Faulkner told me his adventure。
THE TRAVELLER'S STORY OF A TERRIBLY
STRANGE BED
Shortly after my education at college was finished; I happened to be
staying at Paris with an English friend。 We were both young men then; and
lived; I am afraid; rather a wild life; in the delightful city of our sojourn。
One night we were idling about the neighbourhood of the Palais Royal;
doubtful to what amusement we should next betake ourselves。 My friend
proposed a visit to Frascati's; but his suggestion was not to my taste。 I
knew Frascati's; as the French saying is; by heart; had lost and won plenty
of five…franc pieces there; merely for amusement's sake; until it was
amusement no longer; and was thoroughly tired; in fact; of all the ghastly
respectabilities of such a social anomaly as a respectable gambling…house。
〃For Heaven's sake;〃 said I to my friend; 〃let us go somewhere where we
can see a little genuine; blackguard; poverty…stricken gaming with no false
gingerbread glitter thrown over it all。 Let us get away from fashionable
Frascati's; to a house where they don't mind letting in a man with a ragged
coat; or a man with no coat; ragged or otherwise。〃 〃Very well;〃 said my
friend; 〃we needn't go out of the Palais Royal to find the sort of company
you want。 Here's the place just before us; as blackguard a place; by all
report; as you could possibly wish to see。〃 In another minute we arrived at
the door and entered the house; the back of which you have drawn in your
sketch。
When we got upstairs; and had left our hats and sticks with the
doorkeeper; we were admitted into the chief gambling…room。 We did not
find many people assembled there。 But; few as the men were who looked
up at us on our entrance; they were all typeslamentably true types of
their respective classes。
We had come to see blackguards; but these men were something worse。
There is a comic