Ienteredthemainstreet。Allaboutstoodpoleswithbundlesofstrawontop：somealterationswereinprogress。Severaldwellingshadbeenremoved。Theremnantsofboardandwattledfencesprojectedsadlyhereandthere。Itwasafestivalday。Iorderedmybasketchaisetostopinfrontofthechurch，andenteredsoftlythatnoonemightturnround。Totellthetruth，therewasnoneedofthis：thechurchwasalmostempty；therewereveryfewpeople；itwasevidentthateventhemostpiousfearedthemud。Thecandlesseemedstrangelyunpleasantinthatgloomy，orrathersickly，light。Thedimvestibulewasmelancholy；thelongwindows，withtheircircularpanes，werebedewedwithtearsofrain。Iretiredintothevestibule，andaddressingarespectableoldman，withgreyishhair，said，“MayIinquireifIvanNikiforovitchisstillliving？“
Atthatmomentthelampbeforetheholypictureburnedupmorebrightlyandthelightfelldirectlyuponthefaceofmycompanion。
Whatwasmysurprise，onlookingmoreclosely，tobeholdfeatureswithwhichIwasacquainted！ItwasIvanNikiforovitchhimself！Buthowhehadchanged！
“Areyouwell，IvanNikiforovitch？Howoldyouhavegrown！“
“Yes，Ihavegrownold。IhavejustcomefromPoltavato-day，“
answeredIvanNikiforovitch。
“Youdon”tsayso！youhavebeentoPoltavainsuchbadweather？“
“Whatwastobedone？thatlawsuit”
AtthisIsighedinvoluntarily。
IvanNikiforovitchobservedmysigh，andsaid，“Donotbetroubled：I
havereliableinformationthatthecasewillbedecidednextweek，andinmyfavour。”
Ishruggedmyshoulders，andwenttoseeknewsofIvanIvanovitch。
“IvanIvanovitchishere，“someonesaidtome，“inthechoir。”
Isawagauntform。WasthatIvanIvanovitch？Hisfacewascoveredwithwrinkles，hishairwasperfectlywhite；butthepelissewasthesameasever。Afterthefirstgreetingswereover，IvanIvanovitch，turningtomewithajoyfulsmilewhichalwaysbecamehisfunnel-shapedface，said，“Haveyoubeentoldthegoodnews？“
“Whatnews？“Iinquired。
“Mycaseistobedecidedto-morrowwithoutfail：thecourthasannounceditdecisively。”
Isighedmoredeeplythanbefore，madehastetotakemyleave，forI
wasboundonveryimportantbusiness，andseatedmyselfinmykibitka。
TheleannagsknowninMirgorodaspost-horsesstarted，producingwiththeirhoofs，whichwereburiedinagreymassofmud，asoundverydispleasingtotheear。TherainpouredintorrentsupontheJewseatedonthebox，coveredwitharug。Thedampnesspenetratedthroughandthroughme。Thegloomybarrierwithasentry-box，inwhichanoldsoldierwasrepairinghisweapons，waspassedslowly。Againthesamefields，insomeplacesblackwheretheyhadbeendugup，inothersofagreenishhue；wetdawsandcrows；monotonousrain；atearfulsky，withoutonegleamoflight！……Itisgloomyinthisworld，gentlemen！
THEMYSTERIOUSPORTRAIT
PARTI
Nowheredidsomanypeoplepauseasbeforethelittlepicture-shopintheShtchukinuiDvor。Thislittleshopcontained，indeed，themostvariedcollectionofcuriosities。Thepictureswerechieflyoil-paintingscoveredwithdarkvarnish，inframesofdingyyellow。
Wintersceneswithwhitetrees；veryredsunsets，likeragingconflagrations，aFlemishboor，morelikeaturkey-cockincuffsthanahumanbeing，weretheprevailingsubjects。Tothesemustbeaddedafewengravings，suchasaportraitofKhozreff-Mirzainasheepskincap，andsomegeneralswiththree-corneredhatsandhookednoses。
Moreover，thedoorsofsuchshopsareusuallyfestoonedwithbundlesofthosepublications，printedonlargesheetsofbark，andthencolouredbyhand，whichbearwitnesstothenativetalentoftheRussian。
OnonewastheTzarevnaMiliktrisaKirbitievna；onanotherthecityofJerusalem。Thereareusuallybutfewpurchasersoftheseproductions，butgazersaremany。Sometruantlackeyprobablyyawnsinfrontofthem，holdinginhishandthedishescontainingdinnerfromthecook-shopforhismaster，whowillnotgethissoupveryhot。Beforethem，too，willmostlikelybestandingasoldierwrappedinhiscloak，adealerfromtheold-clothesmart，withacoupleofpenknivesforsale，andahuckstress，withabasketfulofshoes。Eachexpressesadmirationinhisownway。Themuzhiksgenerallytouchthemwiththeirfingers；thedealersgazeseriouslyatthem；servingboysandapprenticeslaugh，andteaseeachotherwiththecolouredcaricatures；
oldlackeysinfriezecloakslookatthemmerelyforthesakeofyawningawaytheirtimesomewhere；andthehucksters，youngRussianwomen，haltbyinstincttohearwhatpeoplearegossipingabout，andtoseewhattheyarelookingat。
Atthetimeourstoryopens，theyoungpainter，Tchartkoff，pausedinvoluntarilyashepassedtheshop。Hisoldcloakandplainattireshowedhimtobeamanwhowasdevotedtohisartwithself-denyingzeal，andwhohadnotimetotroublehimselfabouthisclothes。Hehaltedinfrontofthelittleshop，andatfirstenjoyedaninwardlaughoverthemonstrositiesintheshapeofpictures。
Atlengthhesankunconsciouslyintoareverie，andbegantoponderastowhatsortofpeoplewantedtheseproductions？ItdidnotseemremarkabletohimthattheRussianpopulaceshouldgazewithraptureupon“EruslanoffLazarevitch，“on“TheGlutton“and“TheCarouser，“on“ThomaandErema。”Thedelineationsofthesesubjectswereeasilyintelligibletothemasses。Butwhereweretherepurchasesforthosestreaky，dirtyoil-paintings？WhoneededthoseFlemishboors，thoseredandbluelandscapes，whichputforthsomeclaimstoahigherstageofart，butwhichreallyexpressedthedepthsofitsdegradation？Theydidnotappeartheworksofaself-taughtchild。Inthatcase，inspiteofthecaricatureofdrawing，asharpdistinctionwouldhavemanifesteditself。Butherewerevisibleonlysimpledullness，steady-goingincapacity，whichstood，throughself-will，intheranksofart，whileitstrueplacewasamongthelowesttrades。Thesamecolours，thesamemanner，thesamepractisedhand，belongingrathertoamanufacturingautomatonthantoaman！
Hestoodbeforethedirtypicturesforsometime，histhoughtsatlengthwanderingtoothermatters。Meanwhiletheproprietoroftheshop，alittlegreyman，inafriezecloak，withabeardwhichhadnotbeenshavedsinceSunday，hadbeenurginghimtobuyforsometime，namingprices，withoutevenknowingwhatpleasedhimorwhathewanted。“Here，I”lltakeasilverpieceforthesepeasantsandthislittlelandscape。Whatpainting！itfairlydazzlesone；onlyjustreceivedfromthefactory；thevarnishisn”tdryyet。Orhereisawinterscene——takethewinterscene；fifteenrubles；theframealoneisworthit。Whatawinterscene！“Herethemerchantgaveaslightfilliptothecanvas，asiftodemonstrateallthemeritsofthewinterscene。“Prayhavethemputupandsenttoyourhouse。Wheredoyoulive？Here，boy，givemesomestring！“
“Hold，notsofast！“saidthepainter，comingtohimself，andperceivingthatthebriskdealerwasbeginninginearnesttopacksomepicturesup。Hewasratherashamednottotakeanythingafterstandingsolonginfrontoftheshop；sosaying，“Here，stop！IwillseeifthereisanythingIwanthere！“hestoopedandbegantopickupfromthefloor，wheretheywerethrowninaheap，someworn，dustyoldpaintings。Therewereoldfamilyportraits，whosedescendants，probablycouldnotbefoundonearth；withtorncanvasandframesminustheirgilding；inshort，trash。Butthepainterbeganhissearch，thinkingtohimself，“PerhapsImaycomeacrosssomething。”Hehadheardstoriesaboutpicturesofthegreatmastershavingbeenfoundamongtherubbishincheapprint-sellers”shops。
Thedealer，perceivingwhathewasabout，ceasedhisimportunities，andtookuphispostagainatthedoor，hailingthepassers-bywith，“Hither，friends，herearepictures；stepin，stepin；justreceivedfromthemakers！“Heshoutedhisfill，andgenerallyinvain，hadalongtalkwitharag-merchant，standingopposite，atthedoorofhisshop；andfinally，recollectingthathehadacustomerinhisshop，turnedhisbackonthepublicandwentinside。“Well，friend，haveyouchosenanything？“saidhe。Butthepainterhadalreadybeenstandingmotionlessforsometimebeforeaportraitinalargeandoriginallymagnificentframe，uponwhich，however，hardlyatraceofgildingnowremained。
Itrepresentedanoldman，withathin，bronzedfaceandhighcheek-bones；thefeaturesseeminglydepictedinamomentofconvulsiveagitation。HeworeaflowingAsiaticcostume。Dustyanddefacedastheportraitwas，Tchartkoffsaw，whenhehadsucceededinremovingthedirtfromtheface，tracesoftheworkofagreatartist。Theportraitappearedtobeunfinished，butthepowerofthehandlingwasstriking。
Theeyeswerethemostremarkablepictureofall：itseemedasthoughthefullpoweroftheartist”sbrushhadbeenlavisheduponthem。Theyfairlygazedoutoftheportrait，destroyingitsharmonywiththeirstrangeliveliness。Whenhecarriedtheportraittothedoor，theeyesgleamedevenmorepenetratingly。Theyproducednearlythesameimpressiononthepublic。Awomanstandingbehindhimexclaimed，“Heislooking，heislooking！“andjumpedback。Tchartkoffexperiencedanunpleasantfeeling，inexplicableeventohimself，andplacedtheportraitonthefloor。
“Well，willyoutaketheportrait？“saidthedealer。
“Howmuchisit？“saidthepainter。
“Whychafferoverit？givemeseventy-fivekopeks。”
“No。”
“Well，howmuchwillyougive？“
“Twentykopeks，“saidthepainter，preparingtogo。
“Whataprice！Why，youcouldn”tbuytheframeforthat！Perhapsyouwilldecidetopurchaseto-morrow。Sir，sir，turnback！Addtenkopeks。Takeit，takeit！givemetwentykopeks。Totellthetruth，youaremyonlycustomerto-day，andthat”stheonlyreason。”
ThusTchartkoffquiteunexpectedlybecamethepurchaseroftheoldportrait，andatthesametimereflected，“WhyhaveIboughtit？Whatisittome？“Buttherewasnothingtobedone。Hepulledatwenty-kopekpiecefromhispocket，gaveittothemerchant，tooktheportraitunderhisarm，andcarriedithome。Onthewaythither，herememberedthatthetwenty-kopekpiecehehadgivenforitwashislast。Histhoughtsatoncebecamegloomy。Vexationandcarelessindifferencetookpossessionofhimatoneandthesamemoment。Theredlightofsunsetstilllingeredinonehalfthesky；thehousesfacingthatwaystillgleamedwithitswarmlight；andmeanwhilethecoldbluelightofthemoongrewbrighter。Light，half-transparentshadowsfellinbandsupontheground。Thepainterbeganbydegreestoglanceupatthesky，flushedwithatransparentlight；andatthesamemomentfromhismouthfellthewords，“Whatadelicatetone！Whatanuisance！Deucetakeit！“Re-adjustingtheportrait，whichkeptslippingfromunderhisarm，hequickenedhispace。
Wearyandbathedinperspiration，hedraggedhimselftoVasilievskyOstroff。Withdifficultyandmuchpantinghemadehiswayupthestairsfloodedwithsoap-suds，andadornedwiththetracksofdogsandcats。Tohisknocktherewasnoanswer：therewasnooneathome。Heleanedagainstthewindow，anddisposedhimselftowaitpatiently，untilatlastthereresoundedbehindhimthefootstepsofaboyinablueblouse，hisservant，model，andcolour-grinder。ThisboywascalledNikita，andspentallhistimeinthestreetswhenhismasterwasnotathome。Nikitatriedforalongtimetogetthekeyintothelock，whichwasquiteinvisible，byreasonofthedarkness。
Finallythedoorwasopened。Tchartkoffenteredhisante-room，whichwasintolerablycold，aspainters”roomsalwaysare，whichfact，however，theydonotnotice。WithoutgivingNikitahiscoat，hewentonintohisstudio，alargeroom，butlow，fittedupwithallsortsofartisticrubbish——plasterhands，canvases，sketchesbegunanddiscarded，anddraperiesthrownoverchairs。Feelingverytired，hetookoffhiscloak，placedtheportraitabstractedlybetweentwosmallcanvasses，andthrewhimselfonthenarrowdivan。Havingstretchedhimselfout，hefinallycalledforalight。
“Therearenocandles，“saidNikita。
“What，none？“
“Andtherewerenonelastnight，“saidNikita。Theartistrecollectedthat，infact，therehadbeennocandlesthepreviousevening，andbecamesilent。HeletNikitatakehiscoatoff，andputonhisoldworndressing-gown。
“Therehasbeenagentlemanhere，“saidNikita。
“Yes，hecameformoney，Iknow，“saidthepainter，wavinghishand。
“Hewasnotalone，“saidNikita。
“Whoelsewaswithhim？“
“Idon”tknow，somepoliceofficerorother。”
“Butwhyapoliceofficer？“
“Idon”tknowwhy，buthesaysbecauseyourrentisnotpaid。”
“Well，whatwillcomeofit？“
“Idon”tknowwhatwillcomeofit：hesaid，”Ifhewon”tpay，why，lethimleavetherooms。”Theyarebothcomingagainto-morrow。”
“Letthemcome，“saidTchartkoff，withindifference；andagloomymoodtookfullpossessionofhim。
YoungTchartkoffwasanartistoftalent，whichpromisedgreatthings：
hisworkgaveevidenceofobservation，thought，andastronginclinationtoapproachnearertonature。
“Lookhere，myfriend，“hisprofessorsaidtohimmorethanonce，“youhavetalent；itwillbeashameifyouwasteit：butyouareimpatient；youhavebuttobeattractedbyanything，tofallinlovewithit，youbecomeengrossedwithit，andallelsegoesfornothing，andyouwon”tevenlookatit。Seetoitthatyoudonotbecomeafashionableartist。Atpresentyourcolouringbeginstoassertitselftooloudly；andyourdrawingisattimesquiteweak；youarealreadystrivingafterthefashionablestyle，becauseitstrikestheeyeatonce。Haveacare！societyalreadybeginstohaveitsattractionforyou：Ihaveseenyouwithashinyhat，afoppishneckerchief……Itisseductivetopaintfashionablelittlepicturesandportraitsformoney；buttalentisruined，notdeveloped，bythatmeans。Bepatient；
thinkouteverypieceofwork，discardyourfoppishness；letothersamassmoney，yourownwillnotfailyou。”
Theprofessorwaspartlyright。Ourartistsometimeswantedtoenjoyhimself，toplaythefop，inshort，togiveventtohisyouthfulimpulsesinsomewayorother；buthecouldcontrolhimselfwithal。Attimeshewouldforgeteverything，whenhehadoncetakenhisbrushinhishand，andcouldnottearhimselffromitexceptasfromadelightfuldream。Histasteperceptiblydeveloped。HedidnotasyetunderstandallthedepthsofRaphael，buthewasattractedbyGuido”sbroadandrapidhandling，hepausedbeforeTitian”sportraits，hedelightedintheFlemishmasters。Thedarkveilenshroudingtheancientpictureshadnotyetwhollypassedawayfrombeforethem；buthealreadysawsomethinginthem，thoughinprivatehedidnotagreewiththeprofessorthatthesecretsoftheoldmastersareirremediablylosttous。Itseemedtohimthatthenineteenthcenturyhadimproveduponthemconsiderably，thatthedelineationofnaturewasmoreclear，morevivid，moreclose。Itsometimesvexedhimwhenhesawhowastrangeartist，FrenchorGerman，sometimesnotevenapainterbyprofession，butonlyaskilfuldauber，produced，bythecelerityofhisbrushandthevividnessofhiscolouring，auniversalcommotion，andamassedinatwinklingafundedcapital。Thisdidnotoccurtohimwhenfullyoccupiedwithhisownwork，forthenheforgotfoodanddrinkandalltheworld。Butwhendirewantarrived，whenhehadnomoneywherewithtobuybrushesandcolours，whenhisimplacablelandlordcametentimesadaytodemandtherentforhisrooms，thendidtheluckofthewealthyartistsrecurtohishungryimagination；
thendidthethoughtwhichsooftentraversesRussianminds，togiveupaltogether，andgodownhill，utterlytothebad，traversehis。Andnowhewasalmostinthisframeofmind。
“Yes，itisallverywell，tobepatient，bepatient！“heexclaimed，withvexation；“butthereisanendtopatienceatlast。Bepatient！
butwhatmoneyhaveItobuyadinnerwithto-morrow？Noonewilllendmeany。IfIdidbringmyselftosellallmypicturesandsketches，theywouldnotgivemetwentykopeksforthewholeofthem。Theyareuseful；Ifeelthatnotoneofthemhasbeenundertakeninvain；I
havelearnedsomethingfromeachone。Yes，butofwhatuseisit？
Studies，sketches，allwillbestudies，trial-sketchestotheend。Andwhowillbuy，notevenknowingmebyname？Whowantsdrawingsfromtheantique，orthelifeclass，ormyunfinishedloveofaPsyche，ortheinteriorofmyroom，ortheportraitofNikita，thoughitisbetter，totellthetruth，thantheportraitsbyanyofthefashionableartists？WhydoIworry，andtoillikealearneroverthealphabet，whenImightshineasbrightlyastherest，andhavemoney，too，likethem？“
Thusspeaking，theartistsuddenlyshuddered，andturnedpale。A
convulsivelydistortedfacegazedathim，peepingforthfromthesurroundingcanvas；twoterribleeyeswerefixedstraightuponhim；onthemouthwaswrittenamenacingcommandofsilence。Alarmed，hetriedtoscreamandsummonNikita，whoalreadywassnoringintheante-room；
buthesuddenlypausedandlaughed。Thesensationoffeardiedawayinamoment；itwastheportraithehadbought，andwhichhehadquiteforgotten。Thelightofthemoonilluminatingthechamberhadfallenuponit，andlentitastrangelikenesstolife。
Hebegantoexamineit。Hemoistenedaspongewithwater，passeditoverthepictureseveraltimes，washedoffnearlyalltheaccumulatedandincrusteddustanddirt，hungitonthewallbeforehim，wonderingyetmoreattheremarkableworkmanship。Thewholefacehadgainednewlife，andtheeyesgazedathimsothatheshuddered；and，springingback，heexclaimedinavoiceofsurprise：“Itlookswithhumaneyes！“
Thensuddenlythereoccurredtohimastoryhehadheardlongbeforefromhisprofessor，ofacertainportraitbytherenownedLeonardodaVinci，uponwhichthegreatmasterlabouredseveralyears，andstillregardedasincomplete，butwhich，accordingtoVasari，wasneverthelessdeemedbyallthemostcompleteandfinishedproductofhisart。Themostfinishedthingaboutitwastheeyes，whichamazedhiscontemporaries；theverysmallest，barelyvisibleveinsinthembeingreproducedonthecanvas。
Butintheportraitnowbeforehimtherewassomethingsingular。Itwasnolongerart；itevendestroyedtheharmonyoftheportrait；theywereliving，humaneyes！Itseemedasthoughtheyhadbeencutfromalivingmanandinserted。Herewasnoneofthathighenjoymentwhichtakespossessionofthesoulatthesightofanartist”sproduction，nomatterhowterriblethesubjecthemayhavechosen。
Againheapproachedtheportrait，inordertoobservethosewondrouseyes，andperceived，withterror，thattheyweregazingathim。ThiswasnocopyfromNature；itwaslife，thestrangelifewhichmighthavelightedupthefaceofadeadman，risenfromthegrave。Whetheritwastheeffectofthemoonlight，whichbroughtwithitfantasticthoughts，andtransformedthingsintostrangelikenesses，opposedtothoseofmatter-of-factday，orfromsomeothercause，butitsuddenlybecameterribletohim，heknewnotwhy，tositaloneintheroom。Hedrawbackfromtheportrait，turnedaside，andtriednottolookatit；buthiseyeinvoluntarily，ofitsownaccord，keptglancingsidewaystowardsit。Finally，hebecameafraidtowalkabouttheroom。
Itseemedasthoughsomeonewereonthepointofsteppingupbehindhim；andeverytimeheturned，heglancedtimidlyback。Hehadneverbeenacoward；buthisimaginationandnervesweresensitive，andthateveninghecouldnotexplainhisinvoluntaryfear。Heseatedhimselfinonecorner，buteventhenitseemedtohimthatsomeonewaspeepingoverhisshoulderintohisface。EvenNikita”ssnores，resoundingfromtheante-room，didnotchaseawayhisfear。Atlengthherosefromtheseat，withoutraisinghiseyes，wentbehindascreen，andlaydownonhisbed。Throughthecracksofthescreenhesawhisroomlitupbythemoon，andtheportraithangingstifflyonthewall。
Theeyeswerefixeduponhiminayetmoreterribleandsignificantmanner，anditseemedasiftheywouldnotlookatanythingbuthimself。Overpoweredwithafeelingofoppression，hedecidedtorisefromhisbed，seizedasheet，and，approachingtheportrait，covereditupcompletely。
Havingdonethis，helaydonemoreateaseonhisbed，andbegantomeditateuponthepovertyandpitifullotoftheartist，andthethornypathlyingbeforehimintheworld。Butmeanwhilehiseyeglancedinvoluntarilythroughthejointofthescreenattheportraitmuffledinthesheet。Thelightofthemoonheightenedthewhitenessofthesheet，anditseemedtohimasthoughthoseterribleeyesshonethroughthecloth。Withterrorhefixedhiseyesmoresteadfastlyonthespot，asifwishingtoconvincehimselfthatitwasallnonsense。
Butatlengthhesaw——sawclearly；therewasnolongerasheet——theportraitwasquiteuncovered，andwasgazingbeyondeverythingaroundit，straightathim；gazingasitseemedfairlyintohisheart。Hisheartgrewcold。Hewatchedanxiously；theoldmanmoved，andsuddenly，supportinghimselfontheframewithbotharms，raisedhimselfbyhishands，and，puttingforthbothfeet，leaptoutoftheframe。Throughthecrackofthescreen，theemptyframealonewasnowvisible。Footstepsresoundedthroughtheroom，andapproachednearerandnearertothescreen。Thepoorartist”sheartbeganbeatingfast。
Heexpectedeverymoment，hisbreathfailingforfear，thattheoldmanwouldlookroundthescreenathim。Andlo！hedidlookfrombehindthescreen，withtheverysamebronzedface，andwithhisbigeyesrovingabout。
Tchartkofftriedtoscream，andfeltthathisvoicewasgone；hetriedtomove；hislimbsrefusedtheiroffice。Withopenmouth，andfailingbreath，hegazedatthetallphantom，drapedinsomekindofaflowingAsiaticrobe，andwaitedforwhatitwoulddo。Theoldmansatdownalmostonhisveryfeet，andthenpulledoutsomethingfromamongthefoldsofhiswidegarment。Itwasapurse。Theoldmanuntiedit，tookitbytheend，andshookit。Heavyrollsofcoinfelloutwithadullthuduponthefloor。Eachwaswrappedinbluepaper，andoneachwasmarked，“1000ducats。”Theoldmanprotrudedhislong，bonyhandfromhiswidesleeves，andbegantoundotherolls。Thegoldglittered。
Greataswastheartist”sunreasoningfear，heconcentratedallhisattentionuponthegold，gazingmotionless，asitmadeitsappearanceinthebonyhands，gleamed，ranglightlyordully，andwaswrappedupagain。Thenheperceivedonepacketwhichhadrolledfartherthantherest，totheverylegofhisbedstead，nearhispillow。Hegraspeditalmostconvulsively，andglancedinfearattheoldmantoseewhetherhenoticedit。
Buttheoldmanappearedverymuchoccupied：hecollectedallhisrolls，replacedtheminthepurse，andwentoutsidethescreenwithoutlookingathim。Tchartkoff”sheartbeatwildlyasheheardtherustleoftheretreatingfootstepssoundingthroughtheroom。Heclaspedtherollofcoinmorecloselyinhishand，quiveringineverylimb。
Suddenlyheheardthefootstepsapproachingthescreenagain。
Apparentlytheoldmanhadrecollectedthatonerollwasmissing。Lo！
againhelookedroundthescreenathim。Theartistindespairgraspedtherollwithallhisstrength，triedwithallhispowertomakeamovement，shrieked——andawoke。
Hewasbathedinacoldperspiration；hisheartbeatashardasitwaspossibleforittobeat；hischestwasoppressed，asthoughhislastbreathwasabouttoissuefromit。“Wasitadream？“hesaid，seizinghisheadwithbothhands。Buttheterriblerealityoftheapparitiondidnotresembleadream。Ashewoke，hesawtheoldmanstepintotheframe：theskirtsoftheflowinggarmentevenfluttered，andhishandfeltplainlythatamomentbeforeithadheldsomethingheavy。Themoonlightlituptheroom，bringingoutfromthedarkcornershereacanvas，therethemodelofahand：adraperythrownoverachair；
trousersanddirtyboots。Thenheperceivedthathewasnotlyinginhisbed，butstandinguprightinfrontoftheportrait。Howhehadcomethere，hecouldnotintheleastcomprehend。Stillmoresurprisedwashetofindtheportraituncovered，andwithactuallynosheetoverit。Motionlesswithterror，hegazedatit，andperceivedthattheliving，humaneyeswerefasteneduponhim。Acoldperspirationbrokeoutuponhisforehead。Hewantedtomoveaway，butfeltthathisfeethadinsomewaybecomerootedtotheearth。Andhefeltthatthiswasnotadream。Theoldman”sfeaturesmoved，andhislipsbegantoprojecttowardshim，asthoughhewantedtosuckhimin。Withayellofdespairhejumpedback——andawoke。
“Wasitadream？“Withhisheartthrobbingtobursting，hefeltabouthimwithbothhands。Yes，hewaslyinginbed，andinpreciselythepositioninwhichhehadfallenasleep。Beforehimstoodthescreen。
Themoonlightfloodedtheroom。Throughthecrackofthescreen，theportraitwasvisible，coveredwiththesheet，asitshouldbe，justashehadcoveredit。Andsothat，too，wasadream？Buthisclenchedfiststillfeltasthoughsomethinghadbeenheldinit。Thethrobbingofhisheartwasviolent，almostterrible；theweightuponhisbreastintolerable。Hefixedhiseyesuponthecrack，andstaredsteadfastlyatthesheet。Andlo！hesawplainlythesheetbegintoopen，asthoughhandswerepushingfromunderneath，andtryingtothrowitoff。
“LordGod，whatisit！“heshrieked，crossinghimselfindespair——andawoke。
Andwasthis，too，adream？Hesprangfromhisbed，half-mad，andcouldnotcomprehendwhathadhappenedtohim。Wasittheoppressionofanightmare，theravingoffever，oranactualapparition？Strivingtocalm，asfaraspossible，hismentaltumult，andstaythewildlyrushingblood，whichbeatwithstrainingpulsesineveryvein，hewenttothewindowandopenedit。Thecoolbreezerevivedhim。Themoonlightlayontheroofsandthewhitewallsofthehouses，thoughsmallcloudspassedfrequentlyacrossthesky。Allwasstill：fromtimetotimetherestrucktheearthedistantrumbleofacarriage。Heputhisheadoutofthewindow，andgazedforsometime。Alreadythesignsofapproachingdawnwerespreadingoverthesky。Atlasthefeltdrowsy，shuttothewindow，steppedback，laydowninbed，andquicklyfell，likeoneexhausted，intoadeepsleep。
Heawokelate，andwiththedisagreeablefeelingofamanwhohasbeenhalf-suffocatedwithcoal-gas：hisheadachedpainfully。Theroomwasdim：anunpleasantmoisturepervadedtheair，andpenetratedthecracksofhiswindows。Dissatisfiedanddepressedasawetcock，heseatedhimselfonhisdilapidateddivan，notknowingwhattodo，whattosetabout，andatlengthrememberedthewholeofhisdream。Asherecalledit，thedreampresenteditselftohismindassooppressivelyrealthatheevenbegantowonderwhetheritwereadream，whethertherewerenotsomethingmorehere，whetheritwerenotreallyanapparition。Removingthesheet，helookedattheterribleportraitbythelightofday。Theeyeswerereallystrikingintheirliveliness，buthefoundnothingparticularlyterribleaboutthem，thoughanindescribablyunpleasantfeelinglingeredinhismind。Nevertheless，hecouldnotquiteconvincehimselfthatitwasadream。Itstruckhimthattheremusthavebeensometerriblefragmentofrealityinthevision。Itseemedasthoughthereweresomethingintheoldman”sveryglanceandexpressionwhichsaidthathehadbeenwithhimthatnight：
hishandstillfelttheweightwhichhadsorecentlylaininitasifsomeonehadbutjustsnatcheditfromhim。Itseemedtohimthat，ifhehadonlygraspedtherollmorefirmly，itwouldhaveremainedinhishand，evenafterhisawakening。
“MyGod，ifIonlyhadaportionofthatmoney！“hesaid，breathingheavily；andinhisfancy，alltherollsofcoin，withtheirfascinatinginscription，“1000ducats，“begantopouroutofthepurse。Therollsopened，thegoldglittered，andwaswrappedupagain；
andhesatmotionless，withhiseyesfixedontheemptyair，asifhewereincapableoftearinghimselffromsuchasight，likeachildwhositsbeforeaplateofsweets，andbeholds，withwateringmouth，otherpeopledevouringthem。
Atlasttherecameaknockonthedoor，whichrecalledhimunpleasantlytohimself。Thelandlordenteredwiththeconstableofthedistrict，whosepresenceisevenmoredisagreeabletopoorpeoplethanisthepresenceofabeggartotherich。ThelandlordofthelittlehouseinwhichTchartkofflivedresembledtheotherindividualswhoownhousesanywhereintheVasilievskyOstroff，ontheSt。
Petersburgside，orinthedistantregionsofKolomna——individualswhosecharacterisasdifficulttodefineasthecolourofathreadbaresurtout。Inhisyouthhehadbeenacaptainandabraggart，amasterintheartofflogging，skilful，foppish，andstupid；butinhisoldagehecombinedallthesevariousqualitiesintoakindofdimindefiniteness。Hewasawidower，alreadyontheretiredlist，nolongerboasted，norwasdandified，norquarrelled，butonlycaredtodrinkteaandtalkallsortsofnonsenseoverit。Hewalkedabouthisroom，andarrangedtheendsofthetallowcandles；calledpunctuallyattheendofeachmonthuponhislodgersformoney；wentoutintothestreet，withthekeyinhishand，tolookattheroofofhishouse，andsometimeschasedtheporteroutofhisden，wherehehadhiddenhimselftosleep。Inshort，hewasamanontheretiredlist，who，aftertheturmoilsandwildnessofhislife，hadonlyhisold-fashionedhabitsleft。
“Pleasetoseeforyourself，VarukhKusmitch，“saidthelandlord，turningtotheofficer，andthrowingouthishands，“thismandoesnotpayhisrent，hedoesnotpay。”
“HowcanIwhenIhavenomoney？Wait，andIwillpay。”
“Ican”twait，mygoodfellow，“saidthelandlordangrily，makingagesturewiththekeywhichheheldinhishand。“Lieutenant-ColonelPotogonkinhaslivedwithmesevenyears，sevenyearsalready；AnnaPetrovnaBuchmisteroffrentsthecoach-houseandstable，withtheexceptionoftwostalls，andhasthreehouseholdservants：thatisthekindoflodgersIhave。Isaytoyoufrankly，thatthisisnotanestablishmentwherepeopledonotpaytheirrent。Payyourmoneyatonce，please，orelseclearout。”
“Yes，ifyourentedtherooms，pleasetopay，“saidtheconstable，withaslightshakeofthehead，ashelaidhisfingerononeofthebuttonsofhisuniform。
“Well，whatamItopaywith？that”sthequestion。Ihaven”tagroschenjustatpresent。”
“Inthatcase，satisfytheclaimsofIvanIvanovitchwiththefruitsofyourprofession，“saidtheofficer：“perhapshewillconsenttotakepictures。”
“No，thankyou，mygoodfellow，nopictures。Picturesofholysubjects，suchasonecouldhanguponthewalls，wouldbewellenough；
orsomegeneralwithastar，orPrinceKutusoff”sportrait。Butthisfellowhaspaintedthatmuzhik，thatmuzhikinhisblouse，hisservantwhogrindshiscolours！Theideaofpaintinghisportrait，thehog！
I”llthrashhimwell：hetookallthenailsoutofmybolts，thescoundrel！Justseewhatsubjects！Herehehasdrawnhisroom。Itwouldhavebeenwellenoughhadhetakenaclean，well-furnishedroom；
buthehasgoneanddrawnthisone，withallthedirtandrubbishhehascollected。Justseehowhehasdefacedmyroom！Lookforyourself。
Yes，andmylodgershavebeenwithmesevenyears，thelieutenant-colonel，AnnaPetrovnaBuchmisteroff。No，Itellyou，thereisnoworselodgerthanapainter：heliveslikeapig——Godhavemercy！“
Thepoorartisthadtolistenpatientlytoallthis。Meanwhiletheofficerhadoccupiedhimselfwithexaminingthepicturesandstudies，andshowedthathismindwasmoreadvancedthanthelandlord”s，andthathewasnotinsensibletoartisticimpressions。
“Heh！“saidhe，tappingonecanvas，onwhichwasdepictedanakedwoman，“thissubjectis——lively。Butwhysomuchblackunderhernose？
didshetakesnuff？“
“Shadow，“answeredTchartkoffgruffly，withoutlookingathim。
“Butitmighthavebeenputinsomeotherplace：itistooconspicuousunderthenose，“observedtheofficer。“Andwhoselikenessisthis？“
hecontinued，approachingtheoldman”sportrait。“Itistooterrible。
Washereallysodreadful？Ah！why，heactuallylooksatone！Whatathunder-cloud！Fromwhomdidyoupaintit？“
“Ah！itisfroma”saidTchartkoff，butdidnotfinishhissentence：
heheardacrack。Itseemsthattheofficerhadpressedtoohardontheframeoftheportrait，thankstotheweightofhisconstable”shands。Thesmallboardsatthesidecavedin，onefellonthefloor，andwithitfell，withaheavycrash，arollofbluepaper。TheinscriptioncaughtTchartkoff”seye”1000ducats。”Likeamadman，hesprangtopickitup，graspedtheroll，andgrippeditconvulsivelyinhishand，whichsankwiththeweight。
“Wasn”tthereasoundofmoney？“inquiredtheofficer，hearingthenoiseofsomethingfallingonthefloor，andnotcatchingsightofit，owingtotherapiditywithwhichTchartkoffhadhastenedtopickitup。
“Whatbusinessisitofyourswhatisinmyroom？“
“It”smybusinessbecauseyououghttopayyourrenttothelandlordatonce；becauseyouhavemoney，andwon”tpay，that”swhyit”smybusiness。”
“Well，Iwillpayhimto-day。”
“Well，andwhywouldn”tyoupaybefore，insteadofgivingtroubletoyourlandlord，andbotheringthepolicetoboot？“
“BecauseIdidnotwanttotouchthismoney。Iwillpayhiminfullthisevening，andleavetheroomsto-morrow。Iwillnotstaywithsuchalandlord。”
“Well，IvanIvanovitch，hewillpayyou，“saidtheconstable，turningtothelandlord。“Butincaseyouarenotsatisfiedineveryrespectthisevening，thenyoumustexcuseme，Mr。Painter。”Sosaying，heputonhisthree-corneredhat，andwentintotheante-room，followedbythelandlordhanginghishead，andapparentlyengagedinmeditation。
“ThankGod，Satanhascarriedthemoff！“saidTchartkoff，asheheardtheouterdooroftheante-roomclose。Helookedoutintotheante-room，sentNikitaoffonsomeerrand，inordertobequitealone，fastenedthedoorbehindhim，and，returningtohisroom，beganwithwildlybeatinghearttoundotheroll。
Initwereducats，allnew，andbrightasfire。Almostbesidehimself，hesatdownbesidethepileofgold，stillaskinghimself，“Isnotthisalladream？“Therewerejustathousandintheroll，theexteriorofwhichwaspreciselylikewhathehadseeninhisdream。Heturnedthemover，andlookedatthemforsomeminutes。Hisimaginationrecalledupallthetaleshehadheardofhiddenhoards，cabinetswithsecretdrawers，leftbyancestorsfortheirspendthriftdescendants，withfirmbeliefintheextravaganceoftheirlife。Heponderedthis：
“Didnotsomegrandfather，inthepresentinstance，leaveagiftforhisgrandchild，shutupintheframeofafamilyportrait？“Filledwithromanticfancies，hebegantothinkwhetherthishadnotsomesecretconnectionwithhisfate？whethertheexistenceoftheportraitwasnotboundupwithhisown，andwhetherhisacquisitionofitwasnotduetoakindofpredestination？
Hebegantoexaminetheframewithcuriosity。Ononesideacavitywashollowedout，butconcealedsoskilfullyandneatlybyalittleboard，that，ifthemassivehandoftheconstablehadnoteffectedabreach，theducatsmighthaveremainedhiddentotheendoftime。Onexaminingtheportrait，hemarvelledagainattheexquisiteworkmanship，theextraordinarytreatmentoftheeyes。Theynolongerappearedterribletohim；but，nevertheless，eachtimehelookedatthemadisagreeablefeelinginvoluntarilylingeredinhismind。
“No，“hesaidtohimself，“nomatterwhosegrandfatheryouwere，I”llputaglassoveryou，andgetyouagiltframe。”Thenhelaidhishandonthegoldenpilebeforehim，andhisheartbeatfasteratthetouch。
“WhatshallIdowiththem？“hesaid，fixinghiseyesonthem。“NowI
amindependentforatleastthreeyears：Icanshutmyselfupinmyroomandwork。Ihavemoneyforcoloursnow；forfoodandlodging——noonewillannoyanddisturbmenow。Iwillbuymyselfafirst-classlayfigure，Iwillorderaplastertorso，andsomemodelfeet，IwillhaveaVenus。Iwillbuyengravingsofthebestpictures。AndifIworkthreeyearstosatisfymyself，withouthasteorwiththeideaofselling，Ishallsurpassall，andmaybecomeadistinguishedartist。”
Thushespokeinsolitude，withhisgoodjudgmentpromptinghim；butlouderandmoredistinctsoundedanothervoicewithinhim。Asheglancedoncemoreatthegold，itwasnotthusthathistwenty-twoyearsandfieryyouthreasoned。Noweverythingwaswithinhispoweronwhichhehadhithertogazedwithenviouseyes，hadviewedfromafarwithlonging。Howhisheartbeatwhenhethoughtofit！Towearafashionablecoat，tofeastafterlongabstinence，tohirehandsomeapartments，togoatoncetothetheatre，totheconfectioner”s，to……otherplaces；andseizinghismoney，hewasinthestreetinamoment。
Firstofallhewenttothetailor，wasclothedanewfromheadtofoot，andbegantolookathimselflikeachild。Hepurchasedperfumesandpomades；hiredthefirstelegantsuiteofapartmentswithmirrorsandplateglasswindowswhichhecameacrossintheNevskyProspect，withouthagglingabouttheprice；bought，ontheimpulseofthemoment，acostlyeye-glass；bought，alsoontheimpulse，anumberofnecktiesofeverydescription，manymorethanheneeded；hadhishaircurledatthehairdresser”s；rodethroughthecitytwicewithoutanyobjectwhatever；ateanimmensequantityofsweetmeatsattheconfectioner”s；andwenttotheFrenchRestaurant，ofwhichhehadheardrumoursasindistinctasthoughtheyhadconcernedtheEmpireofChina。Therehedined，castingproudglancesattheothervisitors，andcontinuallyarranginghiscurlsintheglass。Therehedrankabottleofchampagne，whichhadbeenknowntohimhithertoonlybyhearsay。Thewineratheraffectedhishead；andheemergedintothestreet，lively，pugnacious，andreadytoraisetheDevil，accordingtotheRussianexpression。Hestruttedalongthepavement，levellinghiseye-glassateverybody。Onthebridgehecaughtsightofhisformerprofessor，andslippedpasthimneatly，asifhedidnotseehim，sothattheastoundedprofessorstoodstock-stillonthebridgeforalongtime，withafacesuggestiveofanoteofinterrogation。
Allhisgoodsandchattels，everythingheowned，easels，canvas，pictures，weretransportedthatsameeveningtohiselegantquarters。
Hearrangedthebestoftheminconspicuousplaces，threwtheworstintoacorner，andpromenadedupanddownthehandsomerooms，glancingconstantlyinthemirrors。Anunconquerabledesiretotakethebullbythehorns，andshowhimselftotheworldatonce，hadariseninhismind。Healreadyheardtheshouts，“Tchartkoff！Tchartkoff！Tchartkoffpaints！WhattalentTchartkoffhas！“Hepacedtheroominastateofrapture。
Thenextdayhetooktenducats，andwenttotheeditorofapopularjournalaskinghischaritableassistance。Hewasjoyfullyreceivedbythejournalist，whocalledhimonthespot，“Mostrespectedsir，“
squeezedbothhishands，andmademinuteinquiriesastohisname，birthplace，residence。Thenextdaythereappearedinthejournal，belowanoticeofsomenewlyinventedtallowcandles，anarticlewiththefollowingheading：——
“TCHARTKOFF”SIMMENSETALENT
“Wehastentodelightthecultivatedinhabitantsofthecapitalwithadiscoverywhichwemaycallsplendidineveryrespect。Allareagreedthatthereareamongusmanyveryhandsomefaces，buthithertotherehasbeennomeansofcommittingthemtocanvasfortransmissiontoposterity。Thiswanthasnowbeensupplied：anartisthasbeenfoundwhounitesinhimselfalldesirablequalities。Thebeautycannowfeelassuredthatshewillbedepictedwithallthegraceofhercharms，airy，fascinating，butterfly-like，flittingamongtheflowersofspring。Thestatelyfatherofafamilycanseehimselfsurroundedbyhisfamily。Merchant，warrior，citizen，statesman——hastenoneandall，whereveryoumaybe。Theartist”smagnificentestablishment[NevskyProspect，suchandsuchanumber]ishungwithportraitsfromhisbrush，worthyofVanDyckorTitian。Wedonotknowwhichtoadmiremost，theirtruthandlikenesstotheoriginals，orthewonderfulbrilliancyandfreshnessofthecolouring。Hailtoyou，artist！youhavedrawnaluckynumberinthelottery。LongliveAndreiPetrovitch！“(Thejournalistevidentlylikedfamiliarity。)“Glorifyyourselfandus。Weknowhowtoprizeyou。Universalpopularity，andwithitwealth，willbeyourmeed，thoughsomeofourbrotherjournalistsmayriseagainstyou。”
Theartistreadthisarticlewithsecretsatisfaction；hisfacebeamed。Hewasmentionedinprint；itwasanoveltytohim：hereadthelinesoverseveraltimes。ThecomparisonwithVanDyckandTitianflatteredhimextremely。Thepraise，“LongliveAndreiPetrovitch，“
alsopleasedhimgreatly：tobespokenofbyhisChristiannameandpatronymicinprintwasanhonourhithertototallyunknowntohim。Hebegantopacethechamberbriskly，nowhesatdowninanarmchair，nowhesprangup，andseatedhimselfonthesofa，planningeachmomenthowhewouldreceivevisitors，maleandfemale；hewenttohiscanvasandmadearapidsweepofthebrush，endeavouringtoimpartagracefulmovementtohishand。
Thenextday，thebellathisdoorrang。Hehastenedtoopenit。A
ladyentered，accompaniedbyagirlofeighteen，herdaughter，andfollowedbyalackeyinafurredlivery-coat。
“YouarethepainterTchartkoff？“
Theartistbowed。
“Agreatdealiswrittenaboutyou：yourportraits，itissaid，aretheheightofperfection。”Sosaying，theladyraisedherglasstohereyesandglancedrapidlyoverthewalls，uponwhichnothingwashanging。“Butwhereareyourportraits？“
“Theyhavebeentakenaway“repliedtheartist，somewhatconfusedly：
“Ihavebutjustmovedintotheseapartments；sotheyarestillontheroad，theyhavenotarrived。”
“YouhavebeeninItaly？“askedthelady，levellingherglassathim，asshefoundnothingelsetopointitat。
“No，Ihavenotbeenthere；butIwishtogo，andIhavedeferreditforawhile。Hereisanarm-chair，madame：youarefatigued？“
“Thankyou：Ihavebeensittingalongtimeinthecarriage。Ah，atlastIbeholdyourwork！“saidthelady，runningtotheoppositewall，andbringingherglasstobearuponhisstudies，sketches，viewsandportraitswhichwerestandingthereonthefloor。“Itischarming。
Lise！Lise，comehere。RoomsinthestyleofTeniers。Doyousee？
Disorder，disorder，atablewithabustuponit，ahand，apalette；
dust，seehowthedustispainted！Itischarming。Andhereonthiscanvasisawomanwashingherface。Whataprettyface！Ah！alittlemuzhik！Soyoudonotdevoteyourselfexclusivelytoportraits？“
“Oh！thatismererubbish。Iwastryingexperiments，studies。”
“Tellmeyouropinionoftheportraitpaintersofthepresentday。IsitnottruethattherearenonenowlikeTitian？Thereisnotthatstrengthofcolour，that——that——WhatapitythatIcannotexpressmyselfinRussian。”Theladywasfondofpaintings，andhadgonethroughallthegalleriesinItalywithhereye-glass。“ButMonsieurNohl——ah，howwellhepaints！whatremarkablework！IthinkhisfaceshavebeenmoreexpressionthanTitian”s。YoudonotknowMonsieurNohl？“
“WhoisNohl？“inquiredtheartist。
“MonsieurNohl。Ah，whattalent！Hepaintedherportraitwhenshewasonlytwelveyearsold。Youmustcertainlycometoseeus。Lise，youshallshowhimyouralbum。Youknow，wecameexpresslythatyoumightbeginherportraitimmediately。”
“What？Iamreadythisverymoment。”Andinatricehepulledforwardaneaselwithacanvasalreadyprepared，graspedhispalette，andfixedhiseyesonthedaughter”sprettylittleface。Ifhehadbeenacquaintedwithhumannature，hemighthavereadinitthedawningofachildishpassionforballs，thedawningofsorrowandmiseryatthelengthoftimebeforedinnerandafterdinner，theheavytracesofuninterestedapplicationtovariousarts，insisteduponbyhermotherfortheelevationofhermind。Buttheartistsawonlythetenderlittleface，aseductivesubjectforhisbrush，thebodyalmostastransparentasporcelain，thedelicatewhiteneck，andthearistocraticallyslenderform。Andhepreparedbeforehandtotriumph，todisplaythedelicacyofhisbrush，whichhadhithertohadtodealonlywiththeharshfeaturesofcoarsemodels，andsevereantiquesandcopiesofclassicmasters。Healreadysawinfancyhowthisdelicatelittlefacewouldturnout。
“Doyouknow，“saidtheladywithapositivelytouchingexpressionofcountenance，“Ishouldlikehertobepaintedsimplyattired，andseatedamonggreenshadows，likemeadows，withaflockoragroveinthedistance，sothatitcouldnotbeseenthatshegoestoballsorfashionableentertainments。Ourballs，Imustconfess，murdertheintellect，deadenallremnantsoffeeling。Simplicity！wouldthereweremoresimplicity！“Alas，itwasstampedonthefacesofmotheranddaughterthattheyhadsooverdancedthemselvesatballsthattheyhadbecomealmostwaxfigures。
Tchartkoffsettowork，posedhismodel，reflectedabit，fixedupontheidea，wavedhisbrushintheair，settlingthepointsmentally，andthenbeganandfinishedthesketchinginwithinanhour。Satisfiedwithit，hebegantopaint。Thetaskfascinatedhim；heforgoteverything，forgottheveryexistenceofthearistocraticladies，beganeventodisplaysomeartistictricks，utteringvariousoddsoundsandhummingtohimselfnowandthenasartistsdowhenimmersedheartandsoulintheirwork。Withouttheslightestceremony，hemadethesitterliftherhead，whichfinallybegantoexpressutterweariness。
“Enoughforthefirsttime，“saidthelady。
“Alittlemore，“saidtheartist，forgettinghimself。
“No，itistimetostop。Lise，threeo”clock！“saidthelady，takingoutatinywatchwhichhungbyagoldchainfromhergirdle。“Howlateitis！“
“Onlyaminute，“saidTchartkoffinnocently，withthepleadingvoiceofachild。
Buttheladyappearedtobenotatallinclinedtoyieldtohisartisticdemandsonthisoccasion；shepromised，however，tositlongerthenexttime。
“Itisvexatious，allthesame，“thoughtTchartkofftohimself：“Ihadjustgotmyhandin；“andherememberednoonehadinterruptedhimorstoppedhimwhenhewasatworkinhisstudioonVasilievskyOstroff。
Nikitasatmotionlessinoneplace。Youmightevenpainthimaslongasyoupleased；heevenwenttosleepintheattitudeprescribedhim。
Feelingdissatisfied，helaidhisbrushandpaletteonachair，andpausedinirritationbeforethepicture。
Thewomanoftheworld”scomplimentsawokehimfromhisreverie。Heflewtothedoortoshowthemout：onthestairshereceivedaninvitationtodinewiththemthefollowingweek，andreturnedwithacheerfulfacetohisapartments。Thearistocraticladyhadcompletelycharmedhim。Uptothattimehehadlookeduponsuchbeingsasunapproachable，bornsolelytorideinmagnificentcarriages，withliveriedfootmenandstylishcoachmen，andtocastindifferentglancesonthepoormantravellingonfootinacheapcloak。Andnow，allofasudden，oneoftheseverybeingshadenteredhisroom；hewaspaintingherportrait，wasinvitedtodinneratanaristocratichouse。Anunusualfeelingofpleasuretookpossessionofhim：hewascompletelyintoxicated，andrewardedhimselfwithasplendiddinner，aneveningatthetheatre，andadrivethroughthecityinacarriage，withoutanynecessitywhatever。
Butmeanwhilehisordinaryworkdidnotfallinwithhismoodatall。
Hedidnothingbutwaitforthemomentwhenthebellshouldring。Atlastthearistocraticladyarrivedwithherpaledaughter。Heseatedthem，drewforwardthecanvaswithskill，andsomeeffortsoffashionableairs，andbegantopaint。Thesunnydayandbrightlightaidedhimnotalittle：hesawinhisdaintysittermuchwhich，caughtandcommittedtocanvas，wouldgivegreatvaluetotheportrait。Heperceivedthathemightaccomplishsomethinggoodifhecouldreproduce，withaccuracy，allthatnaturethenofferedtohiseyes。
Hisheartbegantobeatfasterashefeltthathewasexpressingsomethingwhichothershadnotevenseenasyet。Hisworkengrossedhimcompletely：hewaswhollytakenupwithit，andagainforgotthearistocraticoriginofthesitter。Withheavingbreasthesawthedelicatefeaturesandthealmosttransparentbodyofthefairmaidengrowbeneathhishand。Hehadcaughteveryshade，theslightsallowness，thealmostimperceptiblebluetingeundertheeyes——andwasalreadypreparingtoputinthetinymoleonthebrow，whenhesuddenlyheardthemother”svoicebehindhim。
“Ah！whydoyoupaintthat？itisnotnecessary：andyouhavemadeithere，inseveralplaces，ratheryellow；andhere，quiteso，likedarkspots。”
Theartistundertooktoexplainthatthespotsandyellowtingewouldturnoutwell，thattheybroughtoutthedelicateandpleasingtonesoftheface。Hewasinformedthattheydidnotbringouttones，andwouldnotturnoutwellatall。Itwasexplainedtohimthatjustto-dayLisedidnotfeelquitewell；thatsheneverwassallow，andthatherfacewasdistinguishedforitsfreshcolouring。
Sadlyhebegantoerasewhathisbrushhadputuponthecanvas。Manyanearlyimperceptiblefeaturedisappeared，andwithitvanishedtooaportionoftheresemblance。Hebeganindifferentlytoimparttothepicturethatcommonplacecolouringwhichcanbepaintedmechanically，andwhichlendstoaface，evenwhentakenfromnature，thesortofcoldidealityobservableonschoolprogrammes。Buttheladywassatisfiedwhentheobjectionabletonewasquitebanished。Shemerelyexpressedsurprisethattheworklastedsolong，andaddedthatshehadheardthathefinishedaportraitcompletelyintwosittings。Theartistcouldnotthinkofanyanswertothis。Theladiesrose，andpreparedtodepart。Helaidasidehisbrush，escortedthemtothedoor，andthenstooddisconsolateforalongwhileinonespotbeforetheportrait。
Hegazedstupidlyatit；andmeanwhiletherefloatedbeforehismind”seyethosedelicatefeatures，thoseshades，andairytintswhichhehadcopied，andwhichhisbrushhadannihilated。Engrossedwiththem，heputtheportraitononesideandhuntedupaheadofPsychewhichhehadsometimebeforethrownoncanvasinasketchymanner。Itwasaprettylittleface，wellpainted，butentirelyideal，andhavingcold，regularfeaturesnotlitupbylife。Forlackofoccupation，henowbegantotoneitup，impartingtoitallhehadtakennoteofinhisaristocraticsitter。Thosefeatures，shadows，tints，whichhehadnoted，madetheirappearancehereinthepurifiedforminwhichtheyappearwhenthepainter，aftercloselyobservingnature，subordinateshimselftoher，andproducesacreationequaltoherown。
Psychebegantolive：andthescarcelydawningthoughtbegan，littlebylittle，toclotheitselfinavisibleform。ThetypeoffaceofthefashionableyoungladywasunconsciouslytransferredtoPsyche，yetneverthelessshehadanexpressionofherownwhichgavethepictureclaimstobeconsideredintruthanoriginalcreation。Tchartkoffgavehimselfupentirelytohiswork。Forseveraldayshewasengrossedbyitalone，andtheladiessurprisedhimatitontheirarrival。Hehadnottimetoremovethepicturefromtheeasel。Bothladiesutteredacryofamazement，andclaspedtheirhands。
“Lise，Lise！Ah，howlike！Superb，superb！Whatahappythought，too，todrapeherinaGreekcostume！Ah，whatasurprise！“
Theartistcouldnotseehiswaytodisabusetheladiesoftheirerror。Shamefacedly，withdroopinghead，hemurmured，“ThisisPsyche。”
“InthecharacterofPsyche？Charming！“saidthemother，smiling，uponwhichthedaughtersmiledtoo。“Confess，Lise，itpleasesyoutobepaintedinthecharacterofPsychebetterthananyotherway？Whatasweetidea！Butwhattreatment！ItisCorreggiohimself。Imustsaythat，althoughIhadreadandheardaboutyou，Ididnotknowyouhadsomuchtalent。Youpositivelymustpaintmetoo。”EvidentlytheladywantedtobeportrayedassomekindofPsychetoo。
“WhatamItodowiththem？“thoughttheartist。“Iftheywillhaveitso，why，letPsychepassforwhattheychoose：“andaddedaloud，“Praysitalittle：Iwilltouchituphereandthere。”
“Ah！Iamafraidyouwill……itissuchacapitallikenessnow！“
Buttheartistunderstoodthatthedifficultywaswithrespecttothesallowness，andsohereassuredthembysayingthatheonlywishedtogivemorebrilliancyandexpressiontotheeyes。Intruth，hewasashamed，andwantedtoimpartalittlemorelikenesstotheoriginal，lestanyoneshouldaccusehimofactualbarefacedflattery。AndthefeaturesofthepaleyounggirlatlengthappearedmorecloselyinPsyche”scountenance。
“Enough，“saidthemother，beginningtofearthatthelikenessmightbecometoodecided。Theartistwasremuneratedineveryway，withsmiles，money，compliments，cordialpressuresofthehand，invitationstodinner：inshort，hereceivedathousandflatteringrewards。
Theportraitcreatedafuroreinthecity。Theladyexhibitedittoherfriends，andalladmiredtheskillwithwhichtheartisthadpreservedthelikeness，andatthesametimeconferredmorebeautyontheoriginal。Thelastremark，ofcourse，waspromptedbyaslighttingeofenvy。Theartistwassuddenlyoverwhelmedwithwork。Itseemedasifthewholecitywantedtobepaintedbyhim。Thedoor-bellrangincessantly。Fromonepointofview，thismightbeconsideredadvantageous，aspresentingtohimendlesspracticeinvarietyandnumberoffaces。But，unfortunately，theywereallpeoplewhowerehardtogetalongwith，eitherbusy，hurriedpeople，orelsebelongingtothefashionableworld，andconsequentlymoreoccupiedthananyoneelse，andthereforeimpatienttothelastdegree。Inallquarters，thedemandwasmerelythatthelikenessshouldbegoodandquicklyexecuted。Theartistperceivedthatitwasasimpleimpossibilitytofinishhiswork；thatitwasnecessarytoexchangepoweroftreatmentforlightnessandrapidity，tocatchonlythegeneralexpression，andnotwastelabourondelicatedetails。
Moreover，nearlyallofhissittersmadestipulationsonvariouspoints。Theladiesrequiredthatmindandcharactershouldberepresentedintheirportraits；thatallanglesshouldberounded，allunevennesssmoothedaway，andevenremovedentirelyifpossible；inshort，thattheirfacesshouldbesuchastocauseeveryonetostareatthemwithadmiration，ifnotfallinlovewiththemoutright。Whentheysattohim，theysometimesassumedexpressionswhichgreatlyamazedtheartist；onetriedtoexpressmelancholy；another，meditation；athirdwantedtomakehermouthappearsmallonanyterms，andpuckeredituptosuchanextentthatitfinallylookedlikeaspotaboutasbigasapinhead。Andinspiteofallthis，theydemandedofhimgoodlikenessesandunconstrainednaturalness。Themenwerenobetter：oneinsistedonbeingpaintedwithanenergetic，muscularturntohishead；another，withupturned，inspiredeyes；alieutenantoftheguarddemandedthatMarsshouldbevisibleinhiseyes；anofficialinthecivilservicedrewhimselfuptohisfullheightinordertohavehisuprightnessexpressedinhisface，andthathishandmightrestonabookbearingthewordsinplaincharacters，“Healwaysstoodupfortheright。”
Atfirstsuchdemandsthrewtheartistintoacoldperspiration。
Finallyheacquiredtheknackofit，andnevertroubledhimselfatallaboutit。Heunderstoodatawordhoweachwantedhimselfportrayed。
IfamanwantedMarsinhisface，heputinMars：hegaveaByronicturnandattitudetothosewhoaimedatByron。IftheladieswantedtobeCorinne，Undine，orAspasia，heagreedwithgreatreadiness，andthrewinasufficientmeasureofgoodlooksfromhisownimagination，whichdoesnoharm，andforthesakeofwhichanartistisevenforgivenalackofresemblance。Hesoonbegantowonderhimselfattherapidityanddashofhisbrush。Andofcoursethosewhosattohimwereinecstasies，andproclaimedhimagenius。
Tchartkoffbecameafashionableartistineverysenseoftheword。Hebegantodineout，toescortladiestopicturegalleries，todressfoppishly，andtoassertaudiblythatanartistshouldbelongtosociety，thathemustupholdhisprofession，thatartistsmostlydresslikeshowmakers，donotknowhowtobehavethemselves，donotmaintainthehighesttone，andarelackinginallpolish。Athome，inhisstudio，hecarriedcleanlinessandspotlessnesstothelastextreme，setuptwosuperbfootmen，tookfashionablepupils，dressedseveraltimesaday，curledhishair，practisedvariousmannersofreceivinghiscallers，andbusiedhimselfinadorninghispersonineveryconceivableway，inordertoproduceapleasingimpressionontheladies。Inshort，itwouldsoonhavebeenimpossibleforanyonetohaverecognisedinhimthemodestartistwhohadformerlytoiledunknowninhismiserablequartersintheVasilievskyOstroff。
Henowexpressedhimselfdecidedlyconcerningartistsandart；
declaredthattoomuchcredithadbeengiventotheoldmasters；thatevenRaphaeldidnotalwayspaintwell，andthatfameattachedtomanyofhisworkssimplybyforceoftradition：thatMichaelAngelowasabraggartbecausehecouldboastonlyaknowledgeofanatomy；thattherewasnograceabouthim，andthatrealbrilliancyandpoweroftreatmentandcolouringweretobelookedforinthepresentcentury。
Andthere，naturally，thequestiontouchedhimpersonally。“Idonotunderstand，“saidhe，“howotherstoilandworkwithdifficulty：amanwholaboursformonthsoverapictureisadauber，andnoartistinmyopinion；Idon”tbelievehehasanytalent：geniusworksboldly，rapidly。HereisthisportraitwhichIpaintedintwodays，thisheadinoneday，thisinafewhours，thisinlittlemorethananhour。No，IconfessIdonotrecogniseasartthatwhichaddslinetoline；thatisahandicraft，notart。”Inthismannerdidhelecturehisvisitors；
andthevisitorsadmiredthestrengthandboldnessofhisworks，utteredexclamationsonhearinghowfasttheyhadbeenproduced，andsaidtoeachother，“Thisistalent，realtalent！seehowhespeaks，howhiseyesgleam！Thereissomethingreallyextraordinaryinhisface！“
Itflatteredtheartisttohearsuchreportsabouthimself。Whenprintedpraiseappearedinthepapers，herejoicedlikeachild，althoughthispraisewaspurchasedwithhismoney。Hecarriedtheprintedslipsaboutwithhimeverywhere，andshowedthemtofriendsandacquaintancesasifbyaccident。Hisfameincreased，hisworksandordersmultiplied。Alreadythesameportraitsoverandoveragainweariedhim，bythesameattitudesandturns，whichhehadlearnedbyheart。Hepaintedthemnowwithoutanygreatinterestinhiswork，brushinginsomesortofahead，andgivingthemtohispupil”stofinish。Atfirsthehadsoughttodeviseanewattitudeeachtime。Nowthishadgrownwearisometohim。Hisbrainwastiredwithplanningandthinking。Itwasoutofhispower；hisfashionablelifeborehimfarawayfromlabourandthought。Hisworkgrewcoldandcolourless；andhebetookhimselfwithindifferencetothereproductionofmonotonous，well-wornforms。Theeternallyspick-and-spanuniforms，andtheso-to-speakbuttoned-upfacesofthegovernmentofficials，soldiers，andstatesmen，didnotofferawidefieldforhisbrush：itforgothowtorendersuperbdraperiesandpowerfulemotionandpassion。Ofgrouping，dramaticeffectanditsloftyconnections，therewasnothing。Infaceofhimwasonlyauniform，acorsage，adress-coat，andbeforewhichtheartistfeelscoldandallimaginationvanishes。
Evenhisownpeculiarmeritswerenolongervisibleinhisworks，yettheycontinuedtoenjoyrenown；althoughgenuineconnoisseursandartistsmerelyshruggedtheirshoulderswhentheysawhislatestproductions。ButsomewhohadknownTchartkoffinhisearlierdayscouldnotunderstandhowthetalentofwhichhehadgivensuchclearindicationsintheoutsetcouldsohavevanished；andstroveinvaintodivinebywhatmeansgeniuscouldbeextinguishedinamanjustwhenhehadattainedtothefulldevelopmentofhispowers。
Buttheintoxicatedartistdidnothearthesecriticisms。Hebegantoattaintotheageofdignity，bothinmindandyears：togrowstout，andincreasevisiblyinflesh。Heoftenreadinthepaperssuchphrasesas，“OurmostrespectedAndreiPetrovitch；ourworthyAndreiPetrovitch。”Hebegantoreceiveoffersofdistinguishedpostsintheservice，invitationstoexaminationsandcommittees。Hebegan，asisusuallythecaseinmatureryears，toadvocateRaphaelandtheoldmasters，notbecausehehadbecomethoroughlyconvincedoftheirtranscendentmerits，butinordertosnubtheyoungerartists。Hislifewasalreadyapproachingtheperiodwheneverythingwhichsuggestsimpulsecontractswithinaman；whenapowerfulchordappealsmorefeeblytothespirit；whenthetouchofbeautynolongerconvertsvirginstrengthintofireandflame，butwhenalltheburnt-outsentimentsbecomemorevulnerabletothesoundofgold，hearkenmoreattentivelytoitsseductivemusic，andlittlebylittlepermitthemselvestobecompletelylulledtosleepbyit。Famecangivenopleasuretohimwhohasstolenit，notwonit；soallhisfeelingsandimpulsesturnedtowardswealth。Goldwashispassion，hisideal，hisfear，hisdelight，hisaim。Thebundlesofbank-notesincreasedinhiscoffers；and，likealltowhoselotfallsthisfearfulgift，hebegantogrowinaccessibletoeverysentimentexcepttheloveofgold。Butsomethingoccurredwhichgavehimapowerfulshock，anddisturbedthewholetenorofhislife。
Onedayhefounduponhistableanote，inwhichtheAcademyofPaintingbeggedhim，asaworthymemberofitsbody，tocomeandgivehisopinionuponanewworkwhichhadbeensentfromItalybyaRussianartistwhowasperfectinghimselfthere。Thepainterwasoneofhisformercomrades，whohadbeenpossessedwithapassionforartfromhisearliestyears，hadgivenhimselfuptoitwithhiswholesoul，estrangedhimselffromhisfriendsandrelatives，andhadhastenedtothatwonderfulRome，atwhoseverynametheartist”sheartbeatswildlyandhotly。Thereheburiedhimselfinhisworkfromwhichhepermittednothingtoenticehim。Hevisitedthegalleriesunweariedly，hestoodforhoursatatimebeforetheworksofthegreatmasters，seizingandstudyingtheirmarvellousmethods。Heneverfinishedanythingwithoutrevisinghisimpressionsseveraltimesbeforethesegreatteachers，andreadingintheirworkssilentbuteloquentcounsels。Hegaveeachimpartiallyhisdue，appropriatingfromallonlythatwhichwasmostbeautiful，andfinallybecamethepupilofthedivineRaphaelalone，asagreatpoet，afterreadingmanyworks，atlastmadeHomer”s“Iliad“hisonlybreviary，havingdiscoveredthatitcontainsallonewants，andthatthereisnothingwhichisnotexpressedinitinperfection。Andsohebroughtawayfromhisschoolthegrandconceptionofcreation，themightybeautyofthought，thehighcharmofthatheavenlybrush。
WhenTchartkoffenteredtheroom，hefoundacrowdofvisitorsalreadycollectedbeforethepicture。Themostprofoundsilence，suchasrarelysettlesuponathrongofcritics，reignedoverall。Hehastenedtoassumethesignificantexpressionofaconnoisseur，andapproachedthepicture；but，OGod！whatdidhebehold！
Pure，faultless，beautifulasabride，stoodthepicturebeforehim。
Thecriticsregardedthisnewhithertounknownworkwithafeelingofinvoluntarywonder。Allseemedunitedinit：theartofRaphael，reflectedintheloftygraceofthegrouping；theartofCorreggio，breathingfromthefinishedperfectionoftheworkmanship。Butmorestrikingthanallelsewastheevidentcreativepowerintheartist”smind。Theveryminutestobjectinthepicturerevealedit；hehadcaughtthatmeltingroundnessofoutlinewhichisvisibleinnatureonlytotheartistcreator，andwhichcomesoutasangleswithacopyist。Itwasplainlyvisiblehowtheartist，havingimbibeditallfromtheexternalworld，hadfirststoreditinhismind，andthendrawnitthence，asfromaspiritualsource，intooneharmonious，triumphantsong。Anditwasevident，eventotheuninitiated，howvastagulftherewasfixedbetweencreationandamerecopyfromnature。
Involuntarytearsstoodreadytofallintheeyesofthosewhosurroundedthepicture。Itseemedasthoughalljoinedinasilenthymntothedivinework。
Motionless，withopenmouth，Tchartkoffstoodbeforethepicture。Atlength，whenbydegreesthevisitorsandcriticsbegantomurmurandcommentuponthemeritsofthework，andturningtohim，beggedhimtoexpressanopinion，hecametohimselfoncemore。Hetriedtoassumeanindifferent，everydayexpression；strovetouttersomesuchcommonplaceremarkas；“Yes，totellthetruth，itisimpossibletodenytheartist”stalent；thereissomethinginit；“butthespeechdieduponhislips，tearsandsobsburstforthuncontrollably，andherushedfromtheroomlikeonebesidehimself。
Inamomenthestoodinhismagnificentstudio。Allhisbeing，allhislife，hadbeenarousedinoneinstant，asifyouthhadreturnedtohim，asifthedyingsparksofhistalenthadblazedforthafresh。Thebandagesuddenlyfellfromhiseyes。Heavens！tothinkofhavingmercilesslywastedthebestyearsofhisyouth，ofhavingextinguished，troddenoutperhaps，thatsparkoffirewhich，cherishedinhisbreast，mightperhapshavebeendevelopedintomagnificenceandbeauty，andhaveextortedtoo，itsmeedoftearsandadmiration！Itseemedasthoughthoseimpulseswhichhehadknowninotherdaysre-awokesuddenlyinhissoul。
Heseizedabrushandapproachedhiscanvas。Onethoughtpossessedhimwholly，onedesireconsumedhim；hestrovetodepictafallenangel。
Thisideawasmostinharmonywithhisframeofmind。Theperspirationstartedoutuponhisfacewithhisefforts；but，alas！hisfigures，attitudes，groups，thoughts，arrangedthemselvesstiffly，disconnectedly。Hishandandhisimaginationhadbeentoolongconfinedtoonegroove；andthefruitlessefforttoescapefromthebondsandfetterswhichhehadimposeduponhimself，showeditselfinirregularitiesanderrors。Hehaddespisedthelong，wearisomeladdertoknowledge，andthefirstfundamentallawofthefuturegreatman，hardwork。Hegaveventtohisvexation。Heorderedallhislaterproductionstobetakenoutofhisstudio，allthefashionable，lifelesspictures，alltheportraitsofhussars，ladies，andcouncillorsofstate。
Heshuthimselfupaloneinhisroom，wouldordernofood，anddevotedhimselfentirelytohiswork。Hesattoilinglikeascholar。Buthowpitifullywretchedwasallwhichproceededfromhishand！Hewasstoppedateverystepbyhisignoranceoftheveryfirstprinciples：
simpleignoranceofthemechanicalpartofhisartchilledallinspirationandformedanimpassablebarriertohisimagination。Hisbrushreturnedinvoluntarilytohackneyedforms：handsfoldedthemselvesinasetattitude；headsdarednotmakeanyunusualturn；
theverygarmentsturnedoutcommonplace，andwouldnotdrapethemselvestoanyunaccustomedpostureofthebody。Andhefeltandsawthisallhimself。
“ButhadIreallyanytalent？“hesaidatlength：“didnotIdeceivemyself？“Utteringthesewords，heturnedtotheearlyworkswhichhehadpaintedsopurely，sounselfishly，informerdays，inhiswretchedcabinyonderinlonelyVasilievskyOstroff。Hebeganattentivelytoexaminethemall；andallthemiseryofhisformerlifecamebacktohim。“Yes，“hecrieddespairingly，“Ihadtalent：thesignsandtracesofitareeverywherevisible”
Hepausedsuddenly，andshiveredallover。Hiseyesencounteredothereyesfixedimmovablyuponhim。ItwasthatremarkableportraitwhichhehadboughtintheShtchukinuiDvor。Allthistimeithadbeencoveredup，concealedbyotherpictures，andhadutterlygoneoutofhismind。Now，asifbydesign，whenallthefashionableportraitsandpaintingshadbeenremovedfromthestudio，itlookedforth，togetherwiththeproductionsofhisearlyyouth。Asherecalledallthestrangeeventsconnectedwithit；asherememberedthatthissingularportraithadbeen，inamanner，thecauseofhiserrors；thatthehoardofmoneywhichhehadobtainedinsuchpeculiarfashionhadgivenbirthinhismindtoallthewildcapriceswhichhaddestroyedhistalent——madnesswasonthepointoftakingpossessionofhim。Atonceheorderedthehatefulportraittoberemoved。
Buthismentalexcitementwasnottherebydiminished。Hiswholebeingwasshakentoitsfoundation；andhesufferedthatfearfultorturewhichissometimesexhibitedwhenafeebletalentstrivestodisplayitselfonascaletoogreatforitandcannotdoso。Ahorribleenvytookpossessionofhim——anenvywhichborderedonmadness。Thegallflewtohisheartwhenhebeheldaworkwhichborethestampoftalent。Hegnashedhisteeth，anddevoureditwiththeglareofabasilisk。Heconceivedthemostdevilishplanwhicheverenteredintothemindofman，andhehastenedwiththestrengthofmadnesstocarryitintoexecution。Hebegantopurchasethebestthatartproducedofeverykind。Havingboughtapictureatagreatprice，hetransportedittohisroom，flunghimselfuponitwiththeferocityofatiger，cutit，toreit，choppeditintobits，andstampeduponitwithagrinofdelight。
Thevastwealthhehadamassedenabledhimtogratifythisdevilishdesire。Heopenedhisbagsofgoldandunlockedhiscoffers。Nomonsterofignoranceeverdestroyedsomanysuperbproductionsofartasdidthisragingavenger。Atanyauctionwherehemadehisappearance，everyonedespairedatonceofobtaininganyworkofart。
Itseemedasifanangryheavenhadsentthisfearfulscourgeintotheworldexpresslytodestroyallharmony。Scornoftheworldwasexpressedinhiscountenance。Histongueutterednothingsavebitingandcensoriouswords。Heswoopeddownlikeaharpyintothestreet：
andhisacquaintances，catchingsightofhiminthedistance，soughttoturnasideandavoidameetingwithhim，sayingthatitpoisonedalltherestoftheday。
Fortunatelyfortheworldandart，suchalifecouldnotlastlong：
hispassionsweretoooverpoweringforhisfeeblestrength。Attacksofmadnessbegantorecurmorefrequently，andendedatlastinthemostfrightfulillness。Aviolentfever，combinedwithgallopingconsumption，seizeduponhimwithsuchviolence，thatinthreedaysthereremainedonlyashadowofhisformerself。Tothiswasaddedindicationsofhopelessinsanity。Sometimesseveralmenwereunabletoholdhim。Thelong-forgotten，livingeyesoftheportraitbegantotormenthim，andthenhismadnessbecamedreadful。Allthepeoplewhosurroundedhisbedseemedtohimhorribleportraits。Theportraitdoubledandquadrupleditself；allthewallsseemedhungwithportraits，whichfastenedtheirlivingeyesuponhim；portraitsglaredathimfromtheceiling，fromthefloor；theroomwidenedandlengthenedendlessly，inordertomakeroomformoreofthemotionlesseyes。Thedoctorwhohadundertakentoattendhim，havinglearnedsomethingofhisstrangehistory，strovewithallhismighttofathomthesecretconnectionbetweenthevisionsofhisfancyandtheoccurrencesofhislife，butwithouttheslightestsuccess。Thesickmanunderstoodnothing，feltnothing，savehisowntortures，andgaveutteranceonlytofrightfulyellsandunintelligiblegibberish。Atlasthislifeendedinafinalattackofunutterablesuffering。
Nothingcouldbefoundofallhisgreatwealth；butwhentheybeheldthemutilatedfragmentsofgrandworksofart，thevalueofwhichexceededamillion，theyunderstoodtheterribleusewhichhadbeenmadeofit。
PARTII
ATHRONGofcarriagesandothervehiclesstoodattheentranceofahouseinwhichanauctionwasgoingonoftheeffectsofoneofthosewealthyart-loverswhohaveinnocentlypassedforMaecenases，andinasimple-mindedfashionexpended，tothatend，themillionsamassedbytheirthriftyfathers，andfrequentlyevenbytheirownearlylabours。
Thelongsaloonwasfilledwiththemostmotleythrongofvisitors，collectedlikebirdsofpreyswoopingdownuponanunburiedcorpse。
TherewasawholesquadronofRussianshop-keepersfromtheGostinnuiDvor，andfromtheold-clothesmart，inbluecoatsofforeignmake。
Theirfacesandexpressionswerealittlemorenaturalhere，anddidnotdisplaythatfictitiousdesiretobesubservientwhichissomarkedintheRussianshop-keeperwhenhestandsbeforeacustomerinhisshop。Heretheystooduponnoceremony，althoughthesaloonswerefullofthoseveryaristocratsbeforewhom，inanyotherplace，theywouldhavebeenreadytosweep，withreverence，thedustbroughtinbytheirfeet。Theywerequiteattheirease，handlingpicturesandbookswithoutceremony，whendesirousofascertainingthevalueofthegoods，andboldlyupsettingbargainsmentallysecuredinadvancebynobleconnoisseurs。Thereweremanyofthoseinfallibleattendantsofauctionswhomakeitapointtogotooneeverydayasregularlyastotaketheirbreakfast；aristocraticconnoisseurswholookuponitastheirdutynottomissanyopportunityofaddingtotheircollections，andwhohavenootheroccupationbetweentwelveo”clockandone；andnoblegentlemen，withgarmentsverythreadbare，whomaketheirdailyappearancewithoutanyselfishobjectinview，butmerelytoseehowitallgoesoff。
Aquantityofpictureswerelyingaboutindisorder：withthemweremingledfurniture，andbookswiththecipheroftheformerowner，whoneverwasmovedbyanylaudabledesiretoglanceintothem。Chinesevases，marbleslabsfortables，oldandnewfurniturewithcurvinglines，withgriffins，sphinxes，andlions”paws，gildedandungilded，chandeliers，sconces，allwereheapedtogetherinaperfectchaosofart。
Theauctionappearedtobeatitsheight。
Thesurgingthrongwascompetingforaportraitwhichcouldnotbutarresttheattentionofallwhopossessedanyknowledgeofart。Theskilledhandofanartistwasplainlyvisibleinit。Theportrait，whichhadapparentlybeenseveraltimesrestoredandrenovated，representedthedarkfeaturesofanAsiaticinflowinggarments，andwithastrangeandremarkableexpressionofcountenance；butwhatstruckthebuyersmorethananythingelsewasthepeculiarlivelinessoftheeyes。Themoretheywerelookedat，themoredidtheyseemtopenetrateintothegazer”sheart。Thispeculiarity，thisstrangeillusionachievedbytheartist，attractedtheattentionofnearlyall。Manywhohadbeenbiddinggraduallywithdrew，forthepriceofferedhadrisentoanincrediblesum。Thereremainedonlytwowell-knownaristocrats，amateursofpainting，whowereunwillingtoforegosuchanacquisition。Theygrewwarm，andwouldprobablyhaverunthebiddinguptoanimpossiblesum，hadnotoneoftheonlookerssuddenlyexclaimed，“Permitmetointerruptyourcompetitionforawhile：I，perhaps，morethananyother，havearighttothisportrait。”
Thesewordsatoncedrewtheattentionofalltohim。Hewasatallmanofthirty-five，withlongblackcurls。Hispleasantface，fullofacertainbrightnonchalance，indicatedamindfreefromallwearisome，worldlyexcitement；hisgarmentshadnopretencetofashion：allabouthimindicatedtheartist。Hewas，infact，B。thepainter，amanpersonallywellknowntomanyofthosepresent。
“Howeverstrangemywordsmayseemtoyou，“hecontinued，perceivingthatthegeneralattentionwasdirectedtohim，“ifyouwilllistentoashortstory，youmaypossiblyseethatIwasrightinutteringthem。
EverythingassuresmethatthisistheportraitwhichIamlookingfor。”
Anaturalcuriosityilluminatedthefacesofnearlyallpresent；andeventheauctioneerpausedashewasopeninghismouth，andwithhammerupliftedintheair，preparedtolisten。Atthebeginningofthestory，manyglancedinvoluntarilytowardstheportrait；butlateron，allbenttheirattentionsolelyonthenarrator，ashistalegrewgraduallymoreabsorbing。
“YouknowthatportionofthecitywhichiscalledKolomna，“hebegan。
“ThereeverythingisunlikeanythingelseinSt。Petersburg。Retiredofficialsremovethithertolive；widows；peoplenotverywelloff，whohaveacquaintancesinthesenate，andthereforecondemnthemselvestothisfornearlythewholeoftheirlives；and，inshort，thatwholelistofpeoplewhocanbedescribedbythewordsash-coloured——peoplewhosegarments，faces，hair，eyes，haveasortofashysurface，likeadaywhenthereisintheskyneithercloudnorsun。Amongthemmayberetiredactors，retiredtitularcouncillors，retiredsonsofMars，withruinedeyesandswollenlips。
“LifeinKolomnaisterriblydull：rarelydoesacarriageappear，except，perhaps，onecontaininganactor，whichdisturbstheuniversalstillnessbyitsrumble，noise，andjingling。Youcangetlodgingsforfiverublesamonth，coffeeinthemorningincluded。Widowswithpensionsarethemostaristocraticfamiliesthere；theyconductthemselveswell，sweeptheirroomsoften，chatterwiththeirfriendsaboutthedearnessofbeefandcabbage，andfrequentlyhaveayoungdaughter，ataciturn，quiet，sometimesprettycreature；anuglydog，andwall-clockswhichstrikeinamelancholyfashion。ThencometheactorswhosesalariesdonotpermitthemtodesertKolomna，anindependentfolk，living，likeallartists，forpleasure。Theysitintheirdressing-gowns，cleaningtheirpistols，gluingtogetherallsortsofthingsoutofcardboard，playingdraughtsandcardswithanyfriendwhochancestodropin，andsopassawaythemorning，doingprettynearlythesameintheevening，withtheadditionofpunchnowandthen。AfterthesegreatpeopleandaristocracyofKolomna，cometherankandfile。Itisasdifficulttoputanametothemastorememberthemultitudeofinsectswhichbreedinstalevinegar。Thereareoldwomenwhogetdrunk，whomakealivingbyincomprehensiblemeans，likeants，draggingoldclothesandragsfromtheKalinkinBridgetotheoldclothes-mart，inordertosellthemforfifteenkopeks——inshort，theverydregsofmankind，whoseconditionsnobeneficent，politicaleconomisthasdevisedanymeansofameliorating。
“Ihavementionedtheminordertopointouthowoftensuchpeoplefindthemselvesunderthenecessityofseekingimmediatetemporaryassistanceandhavingrecoursetoborrowing。Hencetheresettlesamongthemapeculiarraceofmoney-lenderswholendsmallsumsonsecurityatanenormouspercentage。Amongtheseusurerswasacertain……butImustnotomittomentionthattheoccurrencewhichIhaveundertakentorelateoccurredthelastcentury，inthereignofourlateEmpressCatherinetheSecond。So，amongtheusurers，atthatepoch，wasacertainperson——anextraordinarybeingineveryrespect，whohadsettledinthatquarterofthecitylongbefore。HewentaboutinflowingAsiaticgarb；hisdarkcomplexionindicatedaSouthernorigin，buttowhatparticularnationhebelonged，India，Greece，orPersia，noonecouldsaywithcertainty。Oftall，almostcolossalstature，withdark，thin，ardentface，heavyoverhangingbrows，andanindescribablystrangecolourinhislargeeyesofunwontedfire，hedifferedsharplyandstronglyfromalltheash-coloureddenizensofthecapital。
“Hisverydwellingwasunliketheotherlittlewoodenhouses。Itwasofstone，inthestyleofthoseformerlymuchaffectedbyGenoesemerchants，withirregularwindowsofvarioussizes，securedwithironshuttersandbars。Thisusurerdifferedfromotherusurersalsointhathecouldfurnishanyrequiredsum，fromthatdesiredbythepooroldbeggar-womantothatdemandedbytheextravagantgrandeeofthecourt。Themostgorgeousequipagesoftenhaltedinfrontofhishouse，andfromtheirwindowssometimespeepedforththeheadofaneleganthigh-bornlady。Rumour，asusual，reportedthathisironcofferswerefullofuntoldgold，treasures，diamonds，andallsortsofpledges，butthat，nevertheless，hewasnottheslaveofthatavaricewhichischaracteristicofotherusurers。Helentmoneywillingly，andonveryfavourabletermsofpaymentapparently，but，bysomecuriousmethodofreckoning，madethemmounttoanincrediblepercentage。Sosaidrumour，atanyrate。Butwhatwasstrangestofallwasthepeculiarfateofthosewhoreceivedmoneyfromhim：theyallendedtheirlivesinsomeunhappyway。Whetherthiswassimplythepopularsuperstition，ortheresultofreportscirculatedwithanobject，isnotknown。Butseveralinstanceswhichhappenedwithinabriefspaceoftimebeforetheeyesofeveryonewerevividandstriking。
“Amongthearistocracyofthatday，onewhospeedilydrewattentiontohimselfwasayoungmanofoneofthebestfamilieswhohadmadeafigureinhisearlyyearsincourtcircles，awarmadmirerofeverythingtrueandnoble，zealousinhisloveforart，andgivingpromiseofbecomingaMaecenas。HewassoondeservedlydistinguishedbytheEmpress，whoconferreduponhimanimportantpost，fullyproportionedtohisdeserts——apostinwhichhecouldaccomplishmuchforscienceandthegeneralwelfare。Theyouthfuldignitarysurroundedhimselfwithartists，poets，andlearnedmen。Hewishedtogiveworktoall，toencourageall。Heundertook，athisownexpense，anumberofusefulpublications；gavenumerousorderstoartists；offeredprizesfortheencouragementofdifferentarts；spentagreatdealofmoney，andfinallyruinedhimself。But，fullofnobleimpulses，hedidnotwishtorelinquishhiswork，soughttoraisealoan，andfinallybetookhimselftothewell-knownusurer。Havingborrowedaconsiderablesumfromhim，themaninashorttimechangedcompletely。
Hebecameapersecutorandoppressorofbuddingtalentandintellect。
Hesawthebadsideineverythingproduced，andeverywordheutteredwasfalse。
“Then，unfortunately，cametheFrenchRevolution。Thisfurnishedhimwithanexcuseforeverykindofsuspicion。Hebegantodiscoverarevolutionarytendencyineverything；toconcoctterribleandunjustaccusations，whichmadescoresofpeopleunhappy。Ofcourse，suchconductcouldnotfailintimetoreachthethrone。Thekind-heartedEmpresswasshocked；and，fullofthenoblespiritwhichadornscrownedheads，sheutteredwordsstillengravenonmanyhearts。TheEmpressremarkedthatnotunderamonarchicalgovernmentwerehighandnobleimpulsespersecuted；nottherewerethecreationsofintellect，poetry，andartcontemnedandoppressed。Ontheotherhand，monarchsaloneweretheirprotectors。ShakespeareandMoliereflourishedundertheirmagnanimousprotection，whileDantecouldnotfindacornerinhisrepublicanbirthplace。Shesaidthattruegeniusesariseattheepochofbrilliancyandpowerinemperorsandempires，butnotinthetimeofmonstrouspoliticalapparitionsandrepublicanterrorism，which，uptothattime，hadnevergiventotheworldasinglepoet；
thatpoet-artistsshouldbemarkedoutforfavour，sincepeaceanddivinequietalonecomposetheirminds，notexcitementandtumult；
thatlearnedmen，poets，andallproducersofartarethepearlsanddiamondsintheimperialcrown：bythemistheepochofthegreatruleradorned，andfromthemitreceivesyetgreaterbrilliancy。
“AstheEmpressutteredthesewordsshewasdivinelybeautifulforthemoment，andIrememberoldmenwhocouldnotspeakoftheoccurrencewithouttears。Allwereinterestedintheaffair。Itmustberemarked，tothehonourofournationalpride，thatintheRussian”shearttherealwaysbeatsafinefeelingthathemustadoptthepartofthepersecuted。Thedignitarywhohadbetrayedhistrustwaspunishedinanexemplarymanneranddegradedfromhispost。Buthereadamoredreadfulpunishmentinthefacesofhisfellow-countrymen：universalscorn。Itisimpossibletodescribewhathesuffered，andhediedinaterribleattackofravingmadness。
“Anotherstrikingexamplealsooccurred。Amongthebeautifulwomeninwhichournortherncapitalassuredlyisnotpoor，onedecidedlysurpassedtherest。HerlovelinesswasacombinationofourNortherncharmswiththoseoftheSouth，agemsuchasrarelymakesitsappearanceonearth。Myfathersaidthathehadneverbeheldanythinglikeitinthewholecourseofhislife。Everythingseemedtobeunitedinher，wealth，intellect，andwit。Shehadthrongsofadmirers，themostdistinguishedofthembeingPrinceR。，themostnoble-mindedofallyoungmen，thefinestinface，andanidealofromanceinhismagnanimousandknightlysentiments。PrinceR。waspassionatelyinlove，andwasrequitedbyalikeardentpassion。
“Butthematchseemedunequaltotheparents。Theprince”sfamilyestateshadnotbeeninhispossessionforalongtime，hisfamilywasoutoffavour，andthesadstateofhisaffairswaswellknowntoall。
Ofasuddentheprincequittedthecapital，asifforthepurposeofarranginghisaffairs，andafterashortintervalreappeared，surroundedwithluxuryandsplendour。Brilliantballsandpartiesmadehimknownatcourt。Thelady”sfatherbegantorelent，andtheweddingtookplace。Whencethischangeincircumstances，thisunheard-of-wealth，came，noonecouldfullyexplain；butitwaswhisperedthathehadenteredintoacompactwiththemysterioususurer，andhadborrowedmoneyofhim。Howeverthatmayhavebeen，theweddingwasasourceofinteresttothewholecity，andthebrideandbridegroomwereobjectsofgeneralenvy。Everyoneknewoftheirwarmandfaithfullove，thelongpersecutiontheyhadhadtoendurefromeveryquarter，thegreatpersonalworthofboth。Ardentwomenatoncesketchedouttheheavenlyblisswhichtheyoungcouplewouldenjoy。
Butitturnedoutverydifferently。
“Inthecourseofayearafrightfulchangecameoverthehusband。Hischaracter，uptothattimesonoble，becamepoisonedwithjealoussuspicions，irritability，andinexhaustiblecaprices。Hebecameatyranttohiswife，athingwhichnoonecouldhaveforeseen，andindulgedinthemostinhumandeeds，andeveninblows。Inayear”stimenoonewouldhaverecognisedthewomanwho，suchalittlewhilebefore，haddazzledanddrawnaboutherthrongsofsubmissiveadorers。
Finally，nolongerabletoendureherlot，sheproposedadivorce。Herhusbandflewintoarageattheverysuggestion。Inthefirstoutburstofpassion，hechasedherabouttheroomwithaknife，andwoulddoubtlesshavemurderedherthenandthere，iftheyhadnotseizedhimandpreventedhim。Inafitofmadnessanddespairheturnedtheknifeagainsthimself，andendedhislifeamidthemosthorriblesufferings。
“Besidesthesetwoinstanceswhichoccurredbeforetheeyesofalltheworld，storiescirculatedofmanymoreamongthelowerclasses，nearlyallofwhichhadtragicendings。Hereanhonestsobermanbecameadrunkard；thereashopkeeper”sclerkrobbedhismaster；again，adriverwhohadconductedhimselfproperlyforanumberofyearscuthispassenger”sthroatforagroschen。Itwasimpossiblethatsuchoccurrences，related，notwithoutembellishments，shouldnotinspireasortofinvoluntaryhorroramongstthesedateinhabitantsofKolomna。
Nooneentertainedanydoubtastothepresenceofanevilpowerintheusurer。Theysaidthatheimposedconditionswhichmadethehairriseonone”shead，andwhichthemiserablewretchneverafterwarddaredrevealtoanyotherbeing；thathismoneypossessedastrangepowerofattraction；thatitgrewhotofitself，andthatitborestrangemarks。Anditisworthyofremark，thatallthecolonyofKolomna，allthesepooroldwomen，smallofficials，pettyartists，andinsignificantpeoplewhomwehavejustrecapitulated，agreedthatitwasbettertoendureanything，andtosuffertheextremeofmisery，ratherthantohaverecoursetotheterribleusurer。Oldwomenwereevenfounddyingofhunger，whopreferredtokilltheirbodiesratherthanlosetheirsoul。Thosewhomethiminthestreetexperiencedaninvoluntarysenseoffear。Pedestrianstookcaretoturnasidefromhispath，andgazedlongafterhistall，recedingfigure。Inhisfacealonetherewassufficientthatwasuncommontocauseanyonetoascribetohimasupernaturalnature。Thestrongfeatures，sodeeplychiselled；theglowingbronzeofhiscomplexion；theincrediblethicknessofhisbrows；theintolerable，terribleeyes——everythingseemedtoindicatethatthepassionsofothermenwerepalecomparedtothoseragingwithinhim。Myfatherstoppedshorteverytimehemethim，andcouldnotrefraineachtimefromsaying，”Adevil，aperfectdevil！”ButImustintroduceyouasspeedilyaspossibletomyfather，thechiefcharacterofthisstory。
“Myfatherwasaremarkablemaninmanyrespects。Hewasanartistofrareability，aself-taughtartist，withoutteachersorschools，principlesandrules，carriedawayonlybythethirstforperfection，andtreadingapathindicatedbyhisowninstincts，forreasonsunknown，perchance，eventohimself。Throughsomeloftyandsecretinstinctheperceivedthepresenceofasoulineveryobject。AndthissecretinstinctandpersonalconvictionturnedhisbrushtoChristiansubjects，grandandloftytothelastdegree。Hiswasastrongcharacter：hewasanhonourable，upright，evenroughman，coveredwithasortofhardrindwithout，notentirelylackinginpride，andgiventoexpressinghimselfbothsharplyandscornfullyaboutpeople。Heworkedforverysmallresults；thatistosay，forjustenoughtosupporthisfamilyandobtainthematerialsheneeded；henever，underanycircumstances，refusedtoaidanyone，ortolendahelpinghandtoapoorartist；andhebelievedwiththesimple，reverentfaithofhisancestors。Atlength，byhisunintermittinglabourandperseveranceinthepathhehadmarkedoutforhimself，hebegantowintheapprobationofthosewhohonouredhisself-taughttalent。Theygavehimconstantordersforchurches，andheneverlackedemployment。
“Oneofhispaintingspossessedastronginterestforhim。Inolongerrecollecttheexactsubject：IonlyknowthatheneededtorepresenttheSpiritofDarknessinit。Heponderedlongwhatformtogivehim：
hewishedtoconcentrateinhisfaceallthatweighsdownandoppressesaman。Inthemidstofhismeditationstheresuddenlyoccurredtohismindtheimageofthemysterioususurer；andhethoughtinvoluntarily，”That”showIoughttopainttheDevil！”
Imaginehisamazementwhenoneday，ashewasatworkinhisstudio，heheardaknockatthedoor，anddirectlyafterthereenteredthatsameterribleusurer。
“”Youareanartist？”hesaidtomyfatherabruptly。
“”Iam”answeredmyfatherinsurprise，waitingforwhatshouldcomenext。
“”Good！Paintmyportrait。Imaypossiblydiesoon。Ihavenochildren；butIdonotwishtodiecompletely，Iwishtolive。Canyoupaintaportraitthatshallappearasthoughitwerealive？”
“Myfatherreflected，”Whatcouldbebetter！heoffershimselffortheDevilinmypicture。”Hepromised。Theyagreeduponatimeandprice；
andthenextdaymyfathertookpaletteandbrushesandwenttotheusurer”shouse。Theloftycourt-yard，dogs，irondoorsandlocks，archedwindows，coffers，drapedwithstrangecovers，and，lastofall，theremarkableownerhimself，seatedmotionlessbeforehim，allproducedastrangeimpressiononhim。Thewindowsseemedintentionallysoencumberedbelowthattheyadmittedthelightonlyfromthetop。”Deviltakehim，howwellhisfaceislighted！”hesaidtohimself，andbegantopaintassiduously，asthoughafraidthatthefavourablelightwoulddisappear。”Whatpower！”herepeatedtohimself。”IfI
onlyaccomplishhalfalikenessofhim，asheisnow，itwillsurpassallmyotherworks：hewillsimplystartfromthecanvasifIamonlypartlytruetonature。Whatremarkablefeatures！”Heredoubledhisenergy；andbeganhimselftonoticehowsomeofhissitter”straitsweremakingtheirappearanceonthecanvas。
“Butthemorecloselyheapproachedresemblance，themoreconscioushebecameofanaggressive，uneasyfeelingwhichhecouldnotexplaintohimself。Notwithstandingthis，hesethimselftocopywithliteralaccuracyeverytraitandexpression。Firstofall，however，hebusiedhimselfwiththeeyes。Therewassomuchforceinthoseeyes，thatitseemedimpossibletoreproducethemexactlyastheywereinnature。
Butheresolved，atanyprice，toseekinthemthemostminutecharacteristicsandshades，topenetratetheirsecret。Assoon，however，asheapproachedtheminresemblance，andbegantoredoublehisexertions，theresprangupinhismindsuchaterriblefeelingofrepulsion，ofinexplicableexpression，thathewasforcedtolayasidehisbrushforawhileandbeginanew。Atlasthecouldbearitnolonger：hefeltasiftheseeyeswerepiercingintohissoul，andcausingintolerableemotion。Onthesecondandthirddaysthisgrewstillstronger。Itbecamehorribletohim。Hethrewdownhisbrush，anddeclaredabruptlythathecouldpaintthestrangernolonger。Youshouldhaveseenhowtheterribleusurerchangedcountenanceatthesewords。Hethrewhimselfathisfeet，andbesoughthimtofinishtheportrait，sayingthathisfateandhisexistencedependedonit；thathehadalreadycaughthisprominentfeatures；thatifhecouldreproducethemaccurately，hislifewouldbepreservedinhisportraitinasupernaturalmanner；thatbythatmeanshewouldnotdiecompletely；thatitwasnecessaryforhimtocontinuetoexistintheworld。
“Myfatherwasfrightenedbythesewords：theyseemedtohimstrangeandterribletosuchadegree，thathethrewdownhisbrushesandpaletteandrushedheadlongfromtheroom。
“Thethoughtofittroubledhimalldayandallnight；butthenextmorninghereceivedtheportraitfromtheusurer，byawomanwhowastheonlycreatureinhisservice，andwhoannouncedthathermasterdidnotwanttheportrait，andwouldpaynothingforit，andhadsentitback。Ontheeveningofthesamedayhelearnedthattheusurerwasdead，andthatpreparationswereinprogresstoburyhimaccordingtotheritesofhisreligion。Allthisseemedtohiminexplicablystrange。Butfromthatdayamarkedchangeshoweditselfinhischaracter。Hewaspossessedbyatroubled，uneasyfeeling，ofwhichhewasunabletoexplainthecause；andhesooncommittedadeedwhichnoonecouldhaveexpectedofhim。Forsometimetheworksofoneofhispupilshadbeenattractingtheattentionofasmallcircleofconnoisseursandamateurs。Myfatherhadperceivedhistalent，andmanifestedaparticularlikingforhiminconsequence。Suddenlythegeneralinterestinhimandtalkabouthimbecameunendurabletomyfatherwhogrewenviousofhim。Finally，tocompletehisvexation，helearnedthathispupilhadbeenaskedtopaintapictureforarecentlybuiltandwealthychurch。Thisenragedhim。”No，Iwillnotpermitthatfledglingtotriumph！”saidhe：”itisearly，friend，tothinkofconsigningoldmentothegutters。Istillhavepowers，Godbepraised！We”llsoonseewhichwillputdowntheother。”
“Andthisstraightforward，honourablemanemployedintrigueswhichhehadhithertoabhorred。Hefinallycontrivedthatthereshouldbeacompetitionforthepicturewhichotherartistswerepermittedtoenterinto。Thenheshuthimselfupinhisroom，andgraspedhisbrushwithzeal。Itseemedasifhewerestrivingtosummonallhisstrengthupforthisoccasion。And，infact，theresultturnedouttobeoneofhisbestworks。Noonedoubtedthathewouldbearoffthepalm。Thepictureswereplacedonexhibition，andalltheothersseemedtohisasnighttoday。Butofasudden，oneofthememberspresent，anecclesiasticalpersonageifImistakenot，madearemarkwhichsurprisedeveryone。”Thereiscertainlymuchtalentinthisartist”spicture”saidhe，”butnoholinessinthefaces：thereiseven，onthecontrary，ademoniacallookintheeyes，asthoughsomeevilfeelinghadguidedtheartist”shand。”Alllooked，andcouldnotbutacknowledgethetruthofthesewords。Myfatherrushedforwardtohispicture，asthoughtoverifyforhimselfthisoffensiveremark，andperceivedwithhorrorthathehadbestowedtheusurer”seyesuponnearlyallthefigures。Theyhadsuchadiabolicalgazethatheinvoluntarilyshuddered。Thepicturewasrejected；andhewasforcedtohear，tohisindescribablevexation，thatthepalmwasawardedtohispupil。
“Itisimpossibletodescribethestateofrageinwhichhereturnedhome。Healmostkilledmymother，hedrovethechildrenaway，brokehisbrushesandeasels，toredowntheusurer”sportraitfromthewall，demandedaknife，andorderedafiretobebuiltinthechimney，intendingtocutitinpiecesandburnit。Afriend，anartist，caughthimintheactasheenteredtheroom——ajollyfellow，alwayssatisfiedwithhimself，inflatedbyunattainablewishes，doingdailyanythingthatcametohand，andtakingstillmoregailytohisdinnerandlittlecarouses。
“”Whatareyoudoing？Whatareyoupreparingtoburn？”heasked，andsteppeduptotheportrait。”Why，thisisoneofyourverybestworks。
Itistheusurerwhodiedashorttimeago：yes，itisamostperfectlikeness。Youdidnotstopuntilyouhadgotintohisveryeyes。Neverdideyeslookasthesedonow。”
“”Well，I”llseehowtheylookinthefire！”saidmyfather，makingamovementtoflingtheportraitintothegrate。
“”Stop，forHeaven”ssake！”exclaimedhisfriend，restraininghim：”giveittome，rather，ifitoffendsyoureyestosuchadegree。”Myfatherresisted，butyieldedatlength；andthejollyfellow，wellpleasedwithhisacquisition，carriedtheportraithomewithhim。
“Whenhewasgone，myfatherfeltmorecalm。Theburdenseemedtohavedisappearedfromhissoulincompanywiththeportrait。Hewassurprisedhimselfathisevilfeelings，hisenvy，andtheevidentchangeinhischaracter。Reviewinghisacts，hebecamesadatheart；
andnotwithoutinwardsorrowdidheexclaim，”No，itwasGodwhopunishedme！mypicture，infact，wasmeanttoruinmybrother-man。A
devilishfeelingofenvyguidedmybrush，andthatdevilishfeelingmusthavemadeitselfvisibleinit。”
“Hesetoutatoncetoseekhisformerpupil，embracedhimwarmly，beggedhisforgiveness，andendeavouredasfaraspossibletoexcusehisownfault。Hislabourscontinuedasbefore；buthisfacewasmorefrequentlythoughtful。Heprayedmore，grewmoretaciturn，andexpressedhimselflesssharplyaboutpeople：eventheroughexteriorofhischaracterwasmodifiedtosomeextent。Butacertainoccurrencesoondisturbedhimmorethanever。Hehadseennothingforalongtimeofthecomradewhohadbeggedtheportraitofhim。Hehadalreadydecidedtohunthimup，whenthelattersuddenlymadehisappearanceinhisroom。Afterafewwordsandquestionsonbothsides，hesaid，”Well，brother，itwasnotwithoutcausethatyouwishedtoburnthatportrait。Deviltakeit，there”ssomethinghorribleaboutit！Idon”tbelieveinsorcerers；but，beggingyourpardon，there”sanuncleanspiritinit。”
“”Howso？”askedmyfather。
“”Well，fromtheverymomentIhungitupinmyroomIfeltsuchdepression——justasifIwantedtomurdersomeone。Ineverknewinmylifewhatsleeplessnesswas；butIsufferednotfromsleeplessnessalone，butfromsuchdreams！——Icannottellwhethertheyweredreams，orwhat；itwasasifademonwerestranglingone：andtheoldmanappearedtomeinmysleep。Inshort，Ican”tdescribemystateofmind。Ihadasensationoffear，asifexpectingsomethingunpleasant。
IfeltasifIcouldnotspeakacheerfulorsincerewordtoanyone：
itwasjustasifaspyweresittingoverme。ButfromtheveryhourthatIgavethatportraittomynephew，whoaskedforit，Ifeltasifastonehadbeenrolledfrommyshoulders，andbecamecheerful，asyouseemenow。Well，brother，youpaintedtheveryDevil！”
“Duringthisrecitalmyfatherlistenedwithunswervingattention，andfinallyinquired，”Andyournephewnowhastheportrait？”
“”Mynephew，indeed！hecouldnotstandit！”saidthejollyfellow：”doyouknow，thesoulofthatusurerhasmigratedintoit；hejumpsoutoftheframe，walksabouttheroom；andwhatmynephewtellsofhimissimplyincomprehensible。Ishouldtakehimforalunatic，ifI
hadnotundergoneapartofitmyself。Hesoldittosomecollectorofpictures；andhecouldnotstanditeither，andgotridofittosomeoneelse。”
“Thisstoryproducedadeepimpressiononmyfather。Hegrewseriouslypensive，fellintohypochondria，andfinallybecamefullyconvincedthathisbrushhadservedasatooloftheDevil；andthataportionoftheusurer”svitalityhadactuallypassedintotheportrait，andwasnowtroublingpeople，inspiringdiabolicalexcitement，beguilingpaintersfromthetruepath，producingthefearfultormentsofenvy，andsoforth。Threecatastropheswhichoccurredafterwards，threesuddendeathsofwife，daughter，andinfantson，heregardedasadivinepunishmentonhim，andfirmlyresolvedtowithdrawfromtheworld。
“AssoonasIwasnineyearsold，heplacedmeinanacademyofpainting，and，payingallhisdebts，retiredtoalonelycloister，wherehesoonafterwardstookthevows。Thereheamazedeveryonebythestrictnessofhislife，andhisuntiringobservanceofallthemonasticrules。Thepriorofthemonastery，hearingofhisskillinpainting，orderedhimtopainttheprincipalpictureinthechurch。
Butthehumblebrothersaidplainlythathewasunworthytotouchabrush，thathiswascontaminated，thatwithtoilandgreatsacrificemusthefirstpurifyhisspiritinordertorenderhimselffittoundertakesuchatask。Heincreasedtherigoursofmonasticlifeforhimselfasmuchaspossible。Atlast，eventheybecameinsufficient，andheretired，withtheapprovaloftheprior，intothedesert，inordertobequitealone。Thereheconstructedhimselfacellfrombranchesoftrees，ateonlyuncookedroots，draggedaboutastonefromplacetoplace，stoodinonespotwithhishandsliftedtoheaven，fromtherisinguntilthegoingdownofthesun，recitingprayerswithoutcessation。Inthismannerdidheforseveralyearsexhausthisbody，invigoratingit，atthesametime，withthestrengthofferventprayer。
“Atlength，onedayhereturnedtothecloister，andsaidfirmlytotheprior，”NowIamready。IfGodwills，Iwillfinishmytask。”ThesubjectheselectedwastheBirthofChrist。Awholeyearhesatoverit，withoutleavinghiscell，barelysustaininghimselfwithcoarsefood，andprayingincessantly。Attheendoftheyearthepicturewasready。Itwasareallywonderfulwork。Neitherpriornorbrethrenknewmuchaboutpainting；butallwerestruckwiththemarvellousholinessofthefigures。TheexpressionofreverenthumilityandgentlenessinthefaceoftheHolyMother，asshebentovertheChild；thedeepintelligenceintheeyesoftheHolyChild，asthoughhesawsomethingafar；thetriumphantsilenceoftheMagi，amazedbytheDivineMiracle，astheybowedathisfeet：andfinally，theindescribablepeacewhichemanatedfromthewholepicture——allthiswaspresentedwithsuchstrengthandbeauty，thattheimpressionitmadewasmagical。Allthebrethrenthrewthemselvesontheirkneesbeforeit；
andtheprior，deeplyaffected，exclaimed，”No，itisimpossibleforanyartist，withtheassistanceonlyofearthlyart，toproducesuchapicture：aholy，divinepowerhasguidedthybrush，andtheblessingofHeavenresteduponthylabour！”
“BythattimeIhadcompletedmyeducationattheacademy，receivedthegoldmedal，andwithitthejoyfulhopeofajourneytoItaly——thefairestdreamofatwenty-year-oldartist。Itonlyremainedformetotakeleaveofmyfather，fromwhomIhadbeenseparatedfortwelveyears。Iconfessthatevenhisimagehadlongfadedfrommymemory。I
hadheardsomewhatofhisgrimsaintliness，andratherexpectedtomeetahermitofroughexterior，astrangertoeverythingintheworld，excepthiscellandhisprayers，wornout，triedup，byeternalfastingandpenance。Buthowgreatwasmysurprisewhenahandsomeoldmanstoodbeforeme！Notracesofexhaustionwerevisibleonhiscountenance：itbeamedwiththelightofaheavenlyjoy。Hisbeard，whiteassnow，andhisthin，almosttransparenthairofthesamesilveryhue，fellpicturesquelyuponhisbreast，anduponthefoldsofhisblackgown，eventotheropewithwhichhispoormonasticgarbwasgirded。Butmostsurprisingtomeofallwastohearfromhismouthsuchwordsandthoughtsaboutartas，Iconfess，Ilongshallbearinmind，andIsincerelywishthatallmycomradeswoulddothesame。
“”Iexpectedyou，myson”hesaid，whenIapproachedforhisblessing。”Thepathawaitsyouinwhichyourlifeishenceforthtoflow。Yourpathispure——desertitnot。Youhavetalent：talentisthemostpricelessofGod”sgifts——destroyitnot。Searchout，subjectallthingstoyourbrush；butinallseethatyoufindthehiddensoul，andmostofall，strivetoattaintothegrandsecretofcreation。
Blessedistheelectonewhomastersthat！Thereisforhimnomeanobjectinnature。Inlowlythemestheartistcreatorisasgreatasingreatones：inthedespicablethereisnothingforhimtodespise，foritpassesthroughthepurifyingfireofhismind。AnintimationofGod”sheavenlyparadiseiscontainedfortheartistinart，andbythataloneisithigherthanallelse。Butbyasmuchastriumphantrestisgranderthaneveryearthlyemotion，bysomuchistheloftycreationofarthigherthaneverythingelseonearth。Sacrificeeverythingtoit，andloveitwithpassion——notwiththepassionbreathingwithearthlydesire，butapeaceful，heavenlypassion。Itcannotplantdiscordinthespirit，butascends，likearesoundingprayer，eternallytoGod。Buttherearemoments，darkmoments——”Hepaused，andIobservedthathisbrightfacedarkened，asthoughsomecloudcrosseditforamoment。”Thereisoneincidentofmylife”hesaid。”Uptothismoment，IcannotunderstandwhatthatterriblebeingwasofwhomIpaintedalikeness。Itwascertainlysomediabolicalapparition。IknowthattheworlddeniestheexistenceoftheDevil，andthereforeIwillnotspeakofhim。IwillonlysaythatIpaintedhimwithrepugnance：Ifeltnolikingformywork，evenatthetime。I
triedtoforcemyself，and，stiflingeveryemotioninahard-heartedway，tobetruetonature。Ihavebeeninformedthatthisportraitispassingfromhandtohand，andsowingunpleasantimpressions，inspiringartistswithfeelingsofenvy，ofdarkhatredtowardstheirbrethren，withmaliciousthirstforpersecutionandoppression。MaytheAlmightypreserveyoufromsuchpassions！Thereisnothingmoreterrible。”
“Heblessedandembracedme。NeverinmylifewasIsograndlymoved。
Reverently，ratherthanwiththefeelingofason，Ileaneduponhisbreast，andkissedhisscatteredsilverlocks。
“Tearsshoneinhiseyes。”Fulfilmyonerequest，myson”saidhe，atthemomentofparting。”YoumaychancetoseetheportraitIhavementionedsomewhere。Youwillknowitatoncebythestrangeeyes，andtheirpeculiarexpression。Destroyitatanycost。”
“JudgeforyourselveswhetherIcouldrefusetopromise，withanoath，tofulfilthisrequest。InthespaceoffifteenyearsIhadneversucceededinmeetingwithanythingwhichinanywaycorrespondedtothedescriptiongivenmebymyfather，untilnow，allofasudden，atanauction”
Theartistdidnotfinishhissentence，butturnedhiseyestothewallinordertoglanceoncemoreattheportrait。Theentirethrongofauditorsmadethesamemovement，seekingthewonderfulportraitwiththeireyes。But，totheirextremeamazement，itwasnolongeronthewall。Anindistinctmurmurandexclamationranthroughthecrowd，andthenwashearddistinctlytheword，“stolen。”Someonehadsucceededincarryingitoff，takingadvantageofthefactthattheattentionofthespectatorswasdistractedbythestory。Andthosepresentlongremainedinastateofsurprise，notknowingwhethertheyhadreallyseenthoseremarkableeyes，orwhetheritwassimplyadreamwhichhadfloatedforaninstantbeforetheireyesight，strainedwithlonggazingatoldpictures。
