The Duke's Prize Part 5

"Your excellenza is pleased to honor me," said Carlton, with a respectful inclination of the head.

"If the piece be thine, it is well merited," continued the duke.

"It shall be proved to thy satisfaction, excellenza."

Carlton thanked in his heart the long auburn hair that covered in part his burning cheeks, while he thus stood before that gallant a.s.sembly of the elite of the court of Florence.

"What proof, sir artist," said the duke, "shall we have of the genuineness of this production?"

"By referring to the painting, excellenza," replied Carlton; "you will find a peculiarity of expression, a want of finish in the features of the third figure on the extreme left of the canva.s.s."

"You speak truly, Signor Americano; we had before noticed the defect, and were at loss to account for it in so perfect a picture as this before us. But what of the flaw, signor?-the discovery of that which any one of thy profession would have noticed does not prove the piece to be the work of thine own hands, for we also had observed it."

"Very true, excellenza," replied Carlton, "but with your permission, I will complete the expression of that countenance with a touch; and when complete, it shall agree in strength of touch, style, tone of finish, and every particular, with the rest of the piece. And, moreover, you shall be enabled therein to recognize the likeness of one of your own household. Is it the pleasure of your excellenza that I add the finish before the present a.s.sembly?"

"It is our desire," said the now deeply interested monarch.

A hum of admiration arose as Carlton, after retiring for a moment, returned with his palette and brush, and approached the picture.

While the duke's band now played to the deeply interested a.s.sembly, Carlton, with a firm, bold touch, immediately supplied the indescribable something that had been wanting-the je ne sais quoi that had been referred to as being requisite to its proper finish.

It was done with such judgment and skill, that the addition, though fresh, could not be detected unless by a very close observation.

None save the author, who had purposely left that flaw, could so have remedied it. It was done almost instantly, yet with precision and accuracy.

The duke gazed upon the canva.s.s for a moment, and then exclaimed with admiration:

"The Grand Chamberlain!-by our lady, what a likeness! Sir artist, thou hast the pencil of a Raphael!"

"Is your excellenza satisfied?"

"We are convinced that the piece is thine own. None other than its author could have accomplished that which we have just witnessed."

"Come hither, gentlemen," said the duke to several of his court about him; and pointing to the canva.s.s, and the touch it had just received, said, "This proof is incontestable!"

"It is, indeed," was the response,

"Are you, too, satisfied, gentlemen?"

"We are."

"Enough."

The duke then a.s.suming his seat of state, directed the artist to approach him. First complimenting him as a son of America, the glorious Republic of the West, and on his extraordinary genius-as he was pleased to express himself-he awarded him the rich prize prepared for the occasion, at the same time offering him a sum for the painting which would have rendered a man of moderate wishes independent for life.

"The prize, your excellenza," said Carlton, "I gladly accept as a token of your liberality in advancing the interests of the n.o.ble art I follow. But as it regards the high price you have set upon my humble effort, I can only say, that I had designed it from the first as a present for your excellenza, and only ask in return, that it may find a place in your private and unrivalled collection-if, indeed, it shall be deemed worthy of that honor."

"Signor Americano," said the duke, "it shall share the Tribune with our best pictures, and shall be prized alike with them."

Now the Tribune, so called, was a small apartment of the duke's gallery devoted to the gems of his collection, and so named after a similar appropriation in the departments of the grand gallery of Florence. The hanging of a picture in this place was of itself alone the highest compliment the author could receive through his production; and so did Carlton understand and appreciate the honor thus designed him, which also was the more welcome, being entirely unexpected.

He could hardly realize that his humble effort should be deemed worthy of such preferment, or that it could possibly possess such merit as to warrant its being placed side by side with those of the immortal masters, whose humblest follower he had ever deemed himself. No wonder his heart beat now so quickly, and he breathed so fast; the goal of his ambition was before him, and almost within his grasp. It seemed only necessary for him to reach out his hand and pluck the garland of success and of renown. The pause that had intervened here was but for a single moment of time, when it was once more broken by the duke himself, who spoke, as he felt, most kindly and in encouraging tones.

"Signor Americano," said the duke, "thy habiliments are those of one whose purse is but narrowly lined, and we are at a loss to account for this willingness to part with that which has cost thee labor of months, and in which thou hast been so eminently successful. We do much crave the picture, but will nevertheless forego its possession unless it can be had at our own valuation."

"As the picture was painted for your excellenza, and you design for it such honor, I could wish its free acceptance; but it must be yours on any terms," said Carlton.

The a.s.sembly then dispersed, and our hero received a purse of gold for his picture, exceeding in amount his wildest expectations of what he might earn by his art in years of industry and frugality.

The scene he had successfully perfected, represented two applicants for justice, standing before the Pope of Rome. They were priests, and had come before him for his judgment in the matter of contention between them. They were ushered into the presence of the pope by a high official, and to this usher had Carlton given the features of the duke's chamberlain. It was a superb design, and represented a late occurrence well-known to the people of Florence, and for this reason, aside from that of its acknowledged superiority, possessed peculiar interest at that time.

The deep, yet natural expression of feeling depicted in each countenance, the perfect harmony of the general conception and its completeness of finish, rendered the picture a study requiring time to comprehend and appreciate all its many excellences. It was finished, and the work of half a year, pursued with the utmost a.s.siduity in secret, had proved successful. All his pains and self-denials were now forgotten; he was doubly paid for all his sufferings-he even looked back upon them with a conscientious pride, and deemed that he had bought his preferment cheaply.

And such is ever the fate of true genius; it rarely receives the aid of fortune in gaining fame, but struggles on, dependent upon its own slow but sure preferment. This is self-evident; for genius may remain ever latent, unless brought out and improved by stem necessity.

CHAPTER VI.

THE MASQUERADE BALL.

Prosperity's the very bond of love.

-Winter's Tale.

WHAT a perfect chequer-board is this same game of life on which we all hold so transient a lease. Time is the board, and the various vicissitudes of life make up the chequered field, ourselves the wooden "men;" each and all strive for preferment, and whether it be gained or not, depends solely upon the shrewdness of him who plays the game. The "king-row" may designate the pinnacle of earthly wishes and hopes, while the various "moves" may show the struggle for that desirable goal-happiness. Ah! how many of us get "penned"

and "cornered"--and many too, in their headlong course, are "jumped,"

and taken off the scene of action. Truly, there is a vast similitude between this game of chequers and the bolder one of life.

Here was poor Carlton but lately struggling along the chequered field, now moving literally towards the king-row. In a few subsequent weeks, with a well-filled purse, he was enjoying life and his art like a true gentleman, and was the envy of every artist in Florence; and yet they all strove to do him honor, at least; so it appeared, orders for his productions crowded upon him from all the n.o.bility, not only of Florence, but of all Tuscany. The private palaces of the environs of the city were thought incomplete in their collections, unless supplied with one at least of his pictures, the patronage of the Grand Duke, and his own work, which occupied the favored place in the Pitti Palace, having raised him to the pinnacle of fame as an artist.

All Italy honored the productions of the fortunate American, and scarcely could a Raphael or a t.i.tian have been more respected or honored. It was his own genius that had raised him and no accident of fortune.

"This young American monopolizes the market with his brush just now," said one artist to another.

"Ay, and gets such princely prices, too, for his pictures! Funny world, this! It is scarcely three months since he was likely to starve for want of work."

"All the Grand Duke's doings; he can make as easily as he can mar a man", replied the other.

"But a man must have genius to fill the place Carlton holds."

"As much as you might put on a knife's point-no more," said the other, enviously.