His Masterpiece

his chums. He was off the moment he awoke, leaving Christine to get things shipshape by herself in the studio which they had taken in the Rue de Douai, near the Boulevard de

r still occupied, was open, and Mahoudeau himself, half asleep,

into early habits in the country. So

the day befo

see something of each other. Co

A blast of poverty had swept into the place, emptying the shelves of the casts from the antique, and smashing stands and buckets, which were now held together with bits of rope. It was an abode of dirt and disorder, a mason's cellar going to rack and ruin. On the

ghted. These confounded workshops get chilly di

ulling the straw from the seat of an old stool to light the coals with. He bade him goo

g just now, old man?'

th a rap. There's a crisis in the church-statue business. Yes, the market for holy wares is

ing a long face still further elongated by whisker

nant, eh? And the way he worries me about being very caref

d the painter looked at it in silence, surprised and displeased at certain concessions he noticed in it: a sprouting of prettiness from beneath a persistent exaggeration of form, a natural desire to please, blended with a lingering tendency to the colossal. However, Maho

say-what do you thi

e of the strapping limbs; but it'll all depend upon the execution. And put

ed with Mahoudeau, and then reappeared, his hat on his head, but more silent, it seemed, than ever. With his awkward peasant fingers he leisurely t

him writing, turned to

t's

ne another; we write,' s

ce w

hree mon

sleep t

es

a Chaine! Hadn't he, one night on coming home unexpectedly, found him treating Mathilde, the herbalist woman, to a pot of jam? No, he would never forgive him for trea

ad reduced their strictly necessary intercourse to a series of short phrases charcoaled on the walls. As for the rest, they lived as before, sha

ve, Mahoudeau continu

earning the fortune he expected by painting, he went into trade, a petty trade, which was to enable him to finish his studies. Isn't the fellow a sharp 'un, eh? And just listen to his plan. He had some olive oil sent to him from Saint-Firmin, his village, and then he tramped the streets and found a market for the oil amo

of the shop. Some of the oil having been spilt, the w

studio, no longer vexed at finding models weakened by concessions to middle-class taste; he even felt tolerant with regard to that hideous

he's never done anything better than that. Perhaps his

e too great, he took of

while fetchin

ahoudeau, who had set to work at his bust, finish

still see th

comes in

nding. One night, the gas company having cut off the gas in default of payment, she had come to borrow some of their olive oil, which, after all, would not burn in the lamps. In short, it was quite a disaster; that mysterious shop, with its fleeting shadows of priests' gowns, its discreet confession

umed the sculptor. 'You'll

Mathilde made her appearance like a neighbour who comes in to say 'Good morning.' Claude thought that she had grown still thinner, but her eyes were all afire, and her mouth was seemingly enlarged by the loss of two more teeth. The smell of aromat

t minding Claude, she kissed Mahoudeau. Then, after going to

root, and we will treat ourselves to it for bre

, 'it makes my mouth sticky

putting on his overcoat agai

rust off, and breathe

low root, each taking a piece by turns. And though he had been warned, he was again amazed when he saw Mahoude

the screw and handed it to the

you again soon

rate, next Thurs

ise on jostling a gentleman, who stood in fr

What are you

pink nose g

assing and looked in

s if there were any one to overh

friends, isn't she? All r

telling him all manner of strange

hat she was frightful,

ctive about a woman even though she had a plain face. Then he expressed his surprise at seeing Claude in Paris, and,

you with me. You must come

rgetically, and gave as a reason that

ieve she has a secret partiality for you. She is always talking about you to us. Come, don'

His miserly father had certainly cut off the supplies once more, cursing him for obstinately pursuing a scandalous career, but he did not care a rap for that now; he earned between seven and eight thousand francs a year by journalism, in which he was making his way as a gossipy leader writer and art critic. The noisy days of 'The Drummer,' the articles at a louis apiece, had been left far behind. He was getting

! she is rolling in wealth,' said he, 'paying twenty thousand francs a year rent and talking of building a house

ush him inside the hall, repeating that his excuse would not do; for they would send the valet to the Rue de Douai to tell his wife. A

you, savage

s skill, her brow hidden beneath a mass of curly hair, and her face elongated, by a sheer effort of will, no doubt. And from a pale blonde she had become flaringly carrotty; so that a Titianesque creature seemed to have sprung from the little urchin-like girl of former days. Her house, with all its show of l

valet to his friend's place,

ou are m

' said Cla

who smiled; then she

xed, you know. I frightened you, don't you remember, eh? You still think me

er the icy stare of the servant. They talked about the great building works that were revolutionising Paris; and then discussed the price of land, like middle-class people with money to invest. But at dessert, when they were all thre

ly real enjoyment, to be jolly together a

hartreuse near her, and had begun to empty it, looking the while

nt her that morning a book she wanted, 'I was going to buy

ear voice. And to cut short his protestations-'Fagerolles w

. Now, the whole of his story amounts simply to this: that he didn't want to spend three francs to buy me that book. Each time he was to have sent me a bouquet, h

gry, tilted back his chair and sucked

u see Fage

He knows very well that people don't quarrel with me. We know each other; we sprouted in the same crack between the paving-stone

, and Jory thought it pr

' he muttered;

ing you on the back, as he hopes to get articles out of you, and you affect generosity a

o defend himself, however, preferring to turn the quarrel into a joke. Wasn't she amusing, eh? when she bl

sort of thing cracks your Tit

laugh, moll

had stolen over them, the hallucinatory intoxication produced by liqueurs and tobacco smoke. They changed the conversation; the high prices that pictures were fetching came into que

astray: 'She had just come from the provinces,' he said. 'She was

ett

yes, p

r reverie, then she said, smiling:

you out of the house. Yes, I have an appointment with an architect; I am going to see some ground near the Parc

. She stopped before a looking-glass,

n't it?' asked Jory. 'You

gated the oval of her face, and rearranged her tawny head, which had all the charm of a work of art; and finally,

glance yet again diving into the depths of his eyes. When he reached the street he felt uncomfortable. The cold air dissipated his intoxication

by the luncheon and feeling inclined to loaf about, spoke of going to shake hands with Bo

he master, which hung there unframed, and in close array like the votive offerings in a chapel. The only tokens of elegance consisted of a cheval glass, of the First Empire style, a large Norman wardrobe, and two arm-chairs upholstered in Utrecht velvet, and threadbare with usage. In one corner, too, a bearskin which had lost nearly all its hair

or himself, holding hi

ut you, my dear fellow. Yes, I don't know who it was that told me of your

laude's in a burst of sincere affec

. Come in, come in, both of you! You don't disturb me; I'm taking advantage of the daylight to t

all canvas, which showed two women, mother and daughter, sitting sewing in

murmured Cl

his shoulders with

ccupy his time, eh? I did this from life at a

t,' replied Claude, warming up. 'And do you know, what

epped back and blinked his eye

ust thinking it was a foul bit of work. I give you my word, I was in

s palette, and came back towards them, his arms sawing the air, as it were; and this artist, wh

something better. Nobody is down upon you; whereas we, the veterans, who have given our measure, who are obliged to keep up to the level previously attained, if not to surpass it, we mustn't weaken under penalty of rolling down into the common grave. And so, Mr. Celebrity, Mr. Great Artist, wear out your brains, consume yourself in striving to climb higher, still higher, ever higher, and if you happen to kick

d flushed face wore an expression of anguish. He strode about, and cont

with a delicious taste. What a feast it will be when you are able to gratify ambition to satiety! You have nearly reached that point, and you look right cheerfully on your scratches! Well, the thing is accomplished; the summit has been gained; it is now a question of remaining there. Then a life of abomination begins; you have exhausted intoxication, and you have discovered that it does not last long enough, that it is not worth the struggle it has cost, and that the dregs of the cup taste bitter. There is nothing left to be learnt, no new sensation

udio, and shaken by such keen emotion that the tears started to his eyes. And he dropped into a c

nough critical acumen. The moment I begin a sketch I exalt it, then, if it's not successful, I torture myself. It would be better not to know anything at al

hey found themselves under the gaze of the ardent, dilated eyes with which he implored them-eyes in which one could read the hidden fear of decline. They knew current rumours well enough; they agreed with the opinion that since his 'Village Wedding' the painter had produced nothing equal to that famous picture.

inted anythin

ement with his herculean arms, as if he were breaking every bone of them to lift that little canvas which was so very lig

ly shoulders and broad neck, about which one noticed traces of peasant build remaining amid

Jory, his eyes still fix

it s

ke the artist who works when h

at my back.' And, without pausing in his

s I am getting. For instance, you, Mr. Amiable Journalist, what a quantity of flowers you fling to the young ones in tha

st out l

t make use of it. Besides, the public li

people a picture the size of your hand; whereas nowadays the first hobbledehoy who can stick a figure on its legs makes all the trumpets of publicity blare. And what kind of publicity is it? A hullabaloo from one end of France to the other, sudden reputations that shoot up of a

self on the couch and lighted another cigar. 'There is a great deal to be sa

then started off again, ami

ub without being hailed as a young "master." Well,

cooled down, and turned towards Claude to ask this que

the young fe

er: a restless smile had risen to thei

who pillages you

actress in her dressing-room, an engraving of which was then attracting a great deal of notice in the print-shops. Was not the subject a really modern one? Was it not well painted, in the bright clear tone

ernal praise for the young ones, shook and made a visible effort to av

wishy-washy sauce of the School of Arts! Quite so! you select a modern subject, and you paint in the clear bright style, only you adhere to correctly commonplace drawing, to all the habitual pleasing style of composition-in short, to the formula which is taught over yonder

tte and brushes aloft,

feeling embarrassed. 'Fagerol

ildly, 'that he has just signed a ve

tion, had the effect of once more soothing Bo

det-ah!

ckly and prudently turning over his petty capital. No, no; the famous Naudet had the appearance of a nobleman, with a fancy-pattern jacket, a diamond pin in his scarf, and patent-leather boots; he was well pomaded and brushed, and lived in fine style, with a livery-stable carriage by the month, a stall at the opera, and his particular table at Bignon's. And he showed himself wherever it was the correct thing to be seen. For the rest, he was a speculator, a Stock Exchange gambler, not caring one single rap about art. But he unfailingly scented success, he guessed what a

y nature, and with a good deal of the mummer about him, be

r fellow. Your last picture

e hundred

rth twelve hundred. And this one

on't know. Suppose we

e but myself-for me, Naudet. Good-bye, good-bye, my dear fellow; don't overwork yourself-your fortune is made. I have taken it in hand." Wherewith he goes off, taking the picture with him in hi

e tho

re of a man whose name hasn't the least no

e thousand francs, and I'll sign an agreement to take it back i

of the year. Vanity gets mingled with the hope of gain, the prices go up, the pictures get regularly quoted, so that when Naudet returns to see his amateur, the latter, instead of returning the picture, buys another one for eight thousand

very clever, when there came a knock at the door. Bo

e! We were just t

m, despite the horrible weather, bowed and came in with the

deed, dear master. And you only

We were saying that your manner of trading was giving us a nice gen

without losin

g! Never mind, never mind, dear mast

efore the picture of the two

Rembrandt for anything like it; yes, to Rembrandt! Look here, I only came in to pay my respects, but I thank my lucky star for having

f his irritation were increasing at each

te; it'

hom it's sold? I'll do everything, I'll give anything. Ah! What a horrible bl

det. That's eno

of the studio with the keen glances of a speculator in search of luck. When he realised that his time was badly chosen, and that he would be

d listened to the conversation with

, I thought-It i

n his thundering voice, resuming in one cry all his hidden suffering, the

r have anything of mine! Let

home to the Rue de Douai, in spite of his long absence. He still felt the want of walking about, of surrendering himself up to that great city of Paris, where the meetings of one single day sufficed to fill his brai

ld come, their covers were laid. His marriage, his change of life, the ardent literary struggle into which he had thrown himself, made no difference; he kept to his day 'at home,' that T

d frankly said to Claud

t ab

are a lot of idiots, a lot of philistines wat

lf would decline to come. Oh! we understand the po

o the doorkeeper, who made him cross three successive courtyards; then he went down a passage, between two other buildings, descended some steps, and tumbled upon the iron gate of a small garden. That was the spot, the pavilion was there at the end of a pat

antern, so that our company may not break their necks. Come in, come in! Will you

up the breakneck steps. In the garden there was simply a small central lawn, on which there stood a large plum tree, diffusing a shade around that rotted the grass; and just in front of the low ho

' repeate

, occupied the larger room, while he and his wife contented themselves with the other one, and a dressing-room that parted the two. That was the whole place, a real cardboard box, with rooms like little dr

Enfer. You see that I've a room to myself. And I have bought myself an oaken writing-table, and

apron over her plainly made dress of black poplin; for although they had a regular servant, she saw to the cooking, for sh

e became old

an, call her Henriette. No madame nor monsie

dish, a bouillabaisse, with which she wished to surprise the Plassans friend. She had obtai

g,' said Claude, 'and

fter. Mere surprise remained to him at the profound lack of intelligence shown by those fellows the critics, whose articles, knocked off on the corner of some table, bespattered him with mud, without appearing as much as to guess at the least of his intentions. Everything was flung into the same slop-pail of abuse: his studies of physiological man; the important part he assigned to circumstances and surroundings; his allusions to nature, ever and ever creating; in short, life-entire, universal life-existent through all the animal world

ople. They are enraged with me on account of the form I give to my productions, the written sentences,

e silent, hav

r an interval, 'you are happy,

m his seat with a ge

de! I, whom the imperfection of my work pursues even in my sleep-I, who never look over the pages of the day before, lest I should find them so execrable that I might afterwards lack the courage to conti

d article in order to have the evening to himself. Almost immediately afterwards Gagniere and Mahoudeau, who had met at the door, came i

loses its brightness and becomes yellowish because it stands out against t

already questioning him when t

che, who apologises; he promises to come

s, with all of them. 'Take your seats! take your seats!' was her cry. It was half-past seven already, the bouillabaisse could not wait. Jory, having observed that Fage

on grand occasions half a score of people still gathered round the table, under the white porcelain hanging lamp, but this was only accomplished by blocking up the sideboard, so that the servant could not even pas

hand, Mahoudeau on her left, while Gagn

give me the slices of toas

slices to each of them, and was beginning to ladle the bo

have given your seat to Mahoudeau

buttoned up in clothes of an English cut, he had the carriage of a man about town, relieved by the retention of a tou

to see you. A score of times I intended going after y

oured to meet them with a like cordiality. But Henriette, wh

t answer me. Do you wi

e. I am very fond of bouillabaisse. B

h so, that the young wife, delighted and still flushed with the heat of the kitchen, her ladle in her hand, had all she could do to refill the plates

andoz to her. 'We'll wait wel

stinate and re

yes, there, behind you on the sideboard. Jory

rdiality of manner. No doubt their features had aged somewhat amid the wear and tear of life; but it was not only that which he noticed, it seemed to him also as if there was a void between them; he beheld them isolated and estranged from each other, although they were seated elbow to elbow in close array round the table. Then the surroundings were different; nowadays, a woman brought her charm to bear on them, and calmed them by her presence. Then why did he, face to face with the irrevocable current of things, which die and are renewed, experience that sensation of beginning something over again-why was it that he could have swo

kept Claude mute, for he said to him acros

t! we missed you sorely. But, you see, nothing is

odding their heads

fference, that the cookery is somewhat better than in the

nversation lacked the fever and violence of yore. Every one spoke of himself and ended by relapsing into silence on perceiving that the others did not listen to him. With the cheese, however, when the

whose bony cheeks seemed to have grown yet more hollow. 'Is it tru

francs. But nothing is settled; I'm thinking it over. It is hard to e

you are hard to please. For twenty fr

the band; he showed himself on the boulevards, frequented the cafes and newspaper offices-all the places where a man can advertise himself and make useful acquaintances. These were tactics of his own, a determination to carve his own victory apart from the others; the smart idea that if he wished to triumph he ought to have not

ished article; he pretended that he had made Fagerolles just as he pretended that he had made Claude. 'I

icles, and no mistak

their crude style, when it was so easy to conquer the crowd. Had it not sufficed for him to break with them, after pillaging them, to make his own fortune? He benefited by all t

?' asked Jory of Gagniere. 'Does

in contemplating his glass, the wine in which cast a

Vernier's

those articles which a

azement turned

nothing about them, I haven't seen them. Ah! they

joke. But Gagniere spoke in absolute good faith. He felt surprised at the success of a painter who did not even observe the l

nner. They all left off eating, though the mistress

who had grown greatly excited amidst the din. 'Just str

le, drinking tea, they leaned back against the walls and continued chatting while the servant cleared away. T

e. 'You know that it doesn't i

into the window recess, offered

have brought back with you. Some very interesting things, no doubt. Y

of another's genius, which he admitted, despite the complex calculations of his cunning mind. But his humility was mingled with a certain embarrassment very rare

at the Salon? Do you lik

ent; then, like the good-n

e some very go

arisms and his compromises. When with great difficulty he had got out of the mess, enraged with himself for his clumsiness, he for a moment bec

going s

e of the ministries, an official whom he's trying to influence in view of obtaining a decorati

r light footfall was heard on the first floor. Since her marriage it was she who tended the old, infirm mo

back, for he alone, with his great gifts, his vigorous touch, could become the master, the recognised chief. Since the Salon of the Rejected the 'school of the open air' had increased in numbers; a growing influence was making itself felt; but unfortunately, the efforts were frittered away; the new recruits contented themselves with producing sketches, impressions thrown off with a few strokes of the brush; they were awaiting the necessary man of genius, the one who would incarnate the

here are others as good as myself

ce. Suddenly, as the others obstinately kept

because you are vexed a

urst out in protestations. Fagerolle

know it,' said Mahoudeau. 'There's no fea

thing I write about you is cut out. You make yoursel

ng grew sad, benumbed, as it were, with lassitude. Sandoz vainly tried a diversion by admitting Bertrand, the big dog, who grovelled at sight of the sugar-basin, and ended by going to sleep near the stove, where he snored like a man. Since the discussion on Fagerolles there had been intervals of silence, a kind of

tion at having come, the importance he attached to the sacrifice, and the fear he felt of compromising his new position. He avoided mentioning his wife, so that he might not have to bring her to Sandoz's. When he had shaken hands with Claude, without showing more emotion than if he had met hi

when nothing had as yet separated them, when not one of them had thought of keeping his part of glory to himself? Nowadays the battle was beginning. Each hungry one was e

e selected from among all, and then enjoyed for ever afterwards? And when, an hour later, the others made up their minds to go off, wearied by the dull egotism of Dubuche, who had not left off talking about his own affairs; when they had dragg

ll next Thursday, all of y

who had taken the lantern and was hol

oudeau replied, jokingly: 'Till Thursday

as it were, at having been in each other's company so long. At last Jory decamped, pretending that some proofs were waiting for him at the office of his newspaper. Then Gagniere mechanical

ived in the neighbourhood; but the band was now lost amid a flood of new-comers; it was slowly being submerged by the increasing triteness of the young disciples of the 'open air.' At that hour of night, however, the establis

fferent to the yawns of the solitary waiter, who was stretching his arm

vening? Yes, about the red of a flag turning yellowish amid the blue of the

of beer, set it down again without tasting its cont

who endowed an orchestra with an individual voice; and those two will live mostly because they created Beethoven. Ah, Beethoven! power and strength amidst serene suffering, Michael

Mournfulness pervaded the deserted room, dirty with saliva and cigar ends, and reeking of spilt drink

louds, however, continue

a long way-ah! certainly not-but then, all the same, he astonishes one by his wealth of production, and the huge effects he derives from an accumulation of voices and an ever-swelling repetition of the same strain. These three led to Meyerbeer, a cunning fellow who profited by everything, introducing symphony into opera after Weber, and giving dramatic expression to the unconscious formulas of Rossi

up, sir,' said the w

round, he went to awaken the petty retired trade

ng to shu

rner where he was seated for his walking-stick, and when the wa

iere ram

er than mountain summits. A bad builder of operas, but marvellous in detached pieces, asking too much at times of the orchestra which he tortures, having pushed the personality of instruments to its furthest limits; for each instrument represents a character to him. Ah! that remark of his about clarionets: "They typify beloved women." A

od waiting amid the gloomy, chilly void of the room. Gagniere's voice had come to a reverential tr

itself living apart the life of the drama. And what a massacre of conventionality, of inept formulas! what a revolutionary emancipation amid the infinite! The overture of "Tannhauser," ah! that's the sublime hallelujah of the new era. First of all comes the chant of the pilgrims, the religious strain, calm, deep and slowly throbbing; then the voices of t

hut up, sir,' re

bed in his own passion, emptied his glass of beer a

as if he had dropped from the stars. He gulped down his beer, and once on the pavement

he had each time brought back with him the feverish excitement of the day. But he had never before returned so late, with his brain so