and confining myself entirely to the pencil That
sounds rather strange, but listen to me. Art seems to be having a bad
time of it just now, or rather the devil seems to be very busy amongst
our painters now-a-days, bravely setting them together by the ears. If
you cannot make up your mind to put up with all sorts of annoyances, to
endure more and more scorn and contumely in proportion as you advance
in art, and as your fame spreads to meet with malicious scoundrels
everywhere, who with a friendly face will force themselves upon you in
order to ruin you the more surely afterwards,--if you cannot, I say,
make up your mind to endure all this--let painting alone. Think of the
fate of your teacher, the great Annibal, whom a rascally band of rivals
malignantly persecuted in Naples, so that he did not receive one single
commission for a great work, being everywhere rejected with contempt;
and this is said to have been instrumental in bringing about his early
death. Think of what happened to Domenichino[2.9] when he was painting
the dome of the chapel of St. Januarius. Didn't the villains of
painters--I won't mention a single name, not even the rascals
Belisario[2.10] and Ribera[2.11]--didn't they bribe Domenichino's
servant to strew ashes in the lime? So the plaster wouldn't stick fast
on the walls, and the painting had no stability. Think of all that, and
examine yourself well whether your spirit is strong enough to endure
things like that, for if not, your artistic power will be broken, and
along with the resolute courage for work you will also lose your
ability."
"But, Salvator," replied Antonio, "it would hardly be possible for me
to have more scorn and contumely to endure, supposing I took up
painting entirely and exclusively, then I have already endured whilst
merely a chirurgeon. You have been pleased with my pictures, you have
indeed! and at the same time declared from inner conviction that I am
capable of doing better things than several of our painters of the
Academy. But these are just the men who turn up their noses at all that
I have industriously produced, and say contemptuously, 'Do look, here's
our chirurgeon wants to be a painter!' And for this very reason my
resolve is only the more unshaken; I will sever myself from a trade
that grows with every day more hateful. Upon you, my honoured master, I
now stake all my hopes. Your word is powerful; if you would speak a
good word for me, you might overthrow my envi
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