Imagines

Lycinus Polystratus, I know now what men must have felt like when they saw the Gorgon’s head. I have just experienced the same sensation, at the sight of a most lovely woman. A little more, and I should have realized the legend, by being turned to stone; I am benumbed with admiration.

Polystratus Wonderful indeed must have been the beauty, and terrible the power of the woman who could produce such an impression on Lycinus. Tell me of this petrifying Medusa. Who is she, and whence? I would see her myself. You will, not grudge me that privilege? Your jealousy will not take alarm at the prospect of a rival petrifaction at your side?

Lycinus Well, I give you fair warning: one distant glimpse of her, and you are speechless, motionless as any statue. Nay, that is a light affliction: the mortal wound is not dealt till ber glance has fallen on you. What can save you then? She will lead. you in chains, hither and thither, as the magnet draws the steel.

Polystratus Enough! You would make her more than human. And now tell me who she is.

Lycinus You think I am exaggerating: I fear you will have but a poor opinion of my eloquence when you see her as she is— so far above my praise. Who she is, I cannot say-: -but to judge

Polystratus And you never even asked her name?

Lycinus Why no; but she is from Ionia; because, as she passed, I heard one of the bystanders speak aside to his neighbour: ‘See,’ he exclaimed, ‘what Smyrna can produce! And what wonder, if the fairest of Ionian cities has given birth to the fairest of women?’ I thought he must come from Smyrna himself, he was so proud of her.

Polystratus There you acted your stony part to perfection. As you could neither follow her, nor make inquiries of the Smyrnaean, it only remains for you to describe her as best you can, on the chance of my recognizing her.

Lycinus You know not what you ask. It is not in the power of words—certainly not of my words—to portray such wondrous beauty; scarcely could an Apelles, a Zeuxis, a Parrhasius,— a Phidias or an Alcamenes, do justice to it; as for my flimsy workmanship, it will but insult the original.

Polystratus Well, never mind; what was she like? There can be no harm in trying your hand. What if the portrait be somewhat out of drawing?—the critic is your good friend.

Lycinus I think my best way out of it will be to call in the aid of some of the old masters I have named: let them fashion the likeness for me.

Polystratus Well, but—will they come? They have been dead so long.

Lycinus That is easily managed: but you must not mind answering me a few questions.

Polystratus You have but to ask.

Lycinus Were you ever at Cnidus?

Polystratus I was.

Lycinus Then you have seen the Aphrodite, of course?

Polystratus That masterpiece of Praxiteles’s art! I have.

Lycinus And heard the story they tell there,—of the man who fell in love with the statue, and contrived to get shut into the temple alone, and there enjoyed such favours as a statue is able to bestow.—But that is neither here nor there.—You have seen the Cnidian Aphrodite, anyhow; now I want to know whether you have also seen our own Aphrodite of the Gardens,—the Alcamenes.

Polystratus I must be a dullard of dullards, if that most exquisite of Alcamenes’s works had escaped my notice.

Lycinus I forbear to ask whether in the course of your many visits to the Acropolis you ever observed the Sosandra of Calamis[*](This statue is usually identified with one of Aphrodite by the same sculptor, mentioned in Pausanias. Soteira (‘ saviour’) is known as an epithet of Aphrodite: but Sosandra (‘ man-saving ’) is explained as a nickname of the Particular statue, in playful allusion to Callias, the donor, who was apparently indebted to Aphrodite for his success with a certain Elpinice.).

Polystratus Frequently.

Lycinus That is really enough for my purpose. But I should just like to know what you consider to be Phidias’s best work.

Polystratus Can you ask?—The Lemnian Athene, which bears the artist’s own signature; oh, and of course the Amazon leaning on her spear.

Lycinus I approve your judgement. We shall have no need of other artists: I am now to cull from each of these its own peculiar beauty, and combine all in a single portrait.

Polystratus And how are you going to do that?

Lycinus It is quite simple. All we have to do is to hand over our several types to Reason, whose care it must be to unite them in the most harmonious fashion, with due regard to the consistency, as to the variety, of the result.

Polystratus To be sure; let Reason take her materials and begin.

Lycinus Well, look; she is at work already. Observe her procedure. She begins with our Cnidian importation, from which she takes only the head; with the rest she is not concerned, as the statue is nude. The hair, the forehead, the exquisite eyebrows, she will keep as Praxiteles has rendered them; the eyes, too, those soft, yet bright-glancing eyes, she leaves unaltered, But the cheeks and the front of the face are taken from the ‘Garden’ Goddess; and so are the lines of the hands, the shapely wrists, the delicately-tapering fingers. Phidias and the Lemnian Athene will give the outline of the face, and the well-proportioned nose, and lend new softness to the cheeks; and the same artist may shape her neck and closed lips, to resemble those of his Amazon. Calamis adorns her with Sosandra’s modesty, Sosandra’s grave half-smile; the decent seemly dress is Sosandra’s too, save that the head must not be veiled. For her stature, let it be that of Cnidian Aphrodite; once more we have recourse to Praxiteles.—What think you, Polystratus? Is it a lovely portrait?

Polystratus Assuredly it will be, when it is perfected. At present, my paragon of sculptors, one element of loveliness has escaped your comprehensive grasp.

Lycinus What is that?

Polystratus A most important one. You will agree with me that colour and tone have a good deal to do with beauty? that black should be black, white be white, and red play its blushing part? It looks tome as if the most important thing of all were still lacking.

Lycinus Well, how shall we manage? Call in the painters, perhaps, selecting those who were noted for their skill in mixing and laying on their colours? Be it so: we will have Polygnotus, Euphranor of course, Apelles and Aétion; they can.

And lastly, Aétion shall give her Roxana’s lips, Nay, we can do better: have we not. Homer, best of painters, though a Euphranor and an Apelles be present? Let him colour all like the limbs of Menelaus, which he says were ‘ivory tinged with red.’ He too shall paint her calm ‘ox-eyes,’ and the Theban poet shall help him to give them their ‘violet’ hue. Homer shall add her smile, her white arms, her rosy finger-tips, and so complete the resemblance to golden Aphrodite, to whom he has compared Brises’ daughter with far less reason.

So far we may trust our sculptors and painters and poets: but for her crowning glory, for the grace—nay, the choir of Graces and Loves that encircle her—who shall portray them?

Polystratus This was no earthly vision, Lycinus; surely she must have dropped from the clouds.—And what was she doing?

Lycinus In her hands was an open scroll; half read (so I surmised) and half to be read. As she passed, she was making some remark to one of her company; what it was I did not catch. But when she smiled, ah! then, Polystratus, I beheld teeth whose whiteness, whose unbroken regularity, who shall describe? Imagine a lovely necklace of gleaming pearls, all of a size; and imagine those dazzling rows set off by ruby lips. In that glimpse, I realized what Homer meant by his ‘carven ivory.” Other women’s teeth differ in size; or they project; or there are gaps: here, all was equality and evenness; pearl joined to pearl in unbroken line. Oh, ’twas a wondrous sight, of beauty more than human.

Polystratus Stay. I know now whom you mean, as well from your description as from her nationality. You said that there were eunuchs in her train?

Lycinus Yes; and soldiers too.

Polystratus My simple friend, the lady you have been describing is a celebrity, and possesses the affections of an Emperor.

Lycinus And her name?

Polystratus Adds one more to the list of her charms; for it is the same as that of Abradatas’s wife.[*](See Panthea in Notes.) You know Xenophon’s enthusiastic account of that beautiful and virtuous woman?—And you have read it a dozen times.

Lycinus Yes; and every time I read it, it is as if she stood before me. I almost hear her uttering the words the historian has put into her mouth, and see her arming her husband and sending him forth to battle.

Polystratus Ah, my dear Lycinus, this lady has passed you but once, like a lightning flash; and your praises, I perceive, are all for those external charms that strike the eye. You are yet a stranger to her nobility of soul; you know not that higher, more god-like beauty. I am her fellow-countryman, I know her, and have conversed with her many times, You are aware that gentleness, humanity, magnanimity, modesty, culture, are things that I prize more than beauty—and rightly; to do otherwise would be as absurd as to value raiment above the body. Where physical perfection goes hand-in-hand with spiritual excellence, there alone (as I maintain) is true beauty. I could show you many a woman whose outward loveliness is marred by what is within; who has but to open her lips, and beauty stands confessed a faded, withered thing, the mean, unlovely handmaid of that odious mistress, her soul. Such women are like Egyptian temples: the shrine is fair and stately, wrought of costly marble, decked out with gilding and painting: but

Lycinus Why then, Polystratus, you shall give me story for story, good measure, shaken together, out of your abundance: paint me the portrait of her soul, that I may be no more her halfadmirer.

Polystratus This will be no light task, my friend. It is one thing to commend what all the world can see, and quite another to reveal what is hidden. I too shall want help with my portrait. Nor will sculptors and painters suffice me: I must have philosophers; itis by their canons that I must adjust the proportions of the figure, if I am to attain to the perfection of ancient models.

To begin then. Of her clear, liquid voice Homer might have said, with far more truth than of aged Nestor’s, that

Methinks Orpheus and Amphion, whose spell drew even lifeless things to hear them, would have dropped their lyres and stood listening in silence to that voice. What should Thracian Orpheus, what should Amphion, whose days upon Cithaeron were divided

Her perfect intonation, her pure Ionic accent, her ready Attic eloquence, need not surprise you; these are her birthright; for is not Smyrna Athens’ daughter? And what more natural than that she should love poetry, and make it her chief study? Homer is her fellow citizen—There you have my first portrait; the portrait of a sweet-voiced songstress, though it fall far short of its original. And now for others. For I do not propose to make one of many, as you did. I aim higher: the complex picture of so many beauties wrought into one, however artful be the composition, cannot escape inconsistency: with me, each separate virtue of her soul shall sit for its own portrait.

Lycinus What a banquet awaits me! Here, assuredly, is good measure. Mete it out; I ask for nothing better.

Polystratus I proceed then to the delineation of Culture, the confessed mistress of all mental excellences, particularly of all acquired ones: I must render her features in all their manifold variety; not even here shall my portraiture be inferior to your own. I paint her, then, with every grace that Helicon can give. Each of the Muses has but her single accomplishment, be it tragedy or history or hymn: all these Culture shall have, and with them the gifts of Hermes and of Apollo, The poet’s graceful numbers, the orator’s persuasive power, the

Lycinus Passable! My dear Polystratus, it is sublime; exquisitely finished in every line.

Polystratus Next I have to depict Wisdom; and here I shall have occasion for many models, most of them ancient; one comes, like the lady herself, from Ionia. ‘The artists shall be Aeschines and Socrates his master, most realistic of painters, for their heart was in their work. We could choose no better model of wisdom than Milesian Aspasia, the admired of the admirable ‘Olympian'[*](See Pericles in Notes.); her political knowledge and insight, her shrewdness and penetration, shall all be transferred to our canvas in their perfect measure. Aspasia, however, is only preserved to us in miniature: our proportions must be those of a colossus.

Lycinus Explain.

Polystratus The portraits will be alike, but not on the same scale. There is a difference between the little republic of ancient Athens, and the Roman Empire of to-day; and there will be the same difference in scale (however close the resemblance in other respects) between our huge canvas and that miniature.

A second anda third model may be found in Theano, and in the poetess of Lesbos; nay, we may add Diotima too. Theano shall give grandeur to the picture, Sappho elegance; and Diotima shall be represented as well by her wisdom and sagacity, as by the qualities for which Socrates commended her. The portrait is complete. Let it be hung.

Lycinus ’Tis a fine piece of work. Proceed.

Polystratus Courtesy, benevolence: that is now my subject. I have to show forth her gentle disposition, her graciousness to suppliants. She shall appear in the likeness of Theano— Antenor’s Theano this time—, of Arete and her daughter Nausicaa, and of every other who in her high station has borne herself with constancy.

Next comes constancy of another kind, —constancy in love; its original, the daughter of Icarius, ‘constant’ and ‘wise,’ as Homer draws her; am I doing more than justice to his Penelope? And there is another: our lady’s namesake, Abradatas’s wife; of her we have already spoken.

Lycinus Once more, noble work, Polystratus. And now your task must be drawing to a close: here is a whole soul depicted; its every virtue praised.