He had too much tact11 to try and make himself agreeable when he couldn’t be useful; so he simply sat and waited, when I was too absorbed in my work to talk. But I liked to make him talk — it made my work, when it didn’t interrupt it, less sordid12, less special. To listen to him was to combine the excitement of going out with the economy of staying at home. There was only one hindrance13: that I seemed not to know any of the people he and his wife had known. I think he wondered extremely, during the term of our intercourse14, whom the deuce I DID know. He hadn’t a stray sixpence of an idea to fumble15 for; so we didn’t spin it very fine — we confined ourselves to questions of leather and even of liquor (saddlers and breeches-makers and how to get good claret cheap), and matters like “good trains” and the habits of small game. His lore16 on these last subjects was astonishing, he managed to interweave the station-master with the ornithologist17. When he couldn’t talk about greater things he could talk cheerfully about smaller, and since I couldn’t accompany him into reminiscences of the fashionable world he could lower the conversation without a visible effort to my level.
So earnest a desire to please was touching18 in a man who could so easily have knocked one down. He looked after the fire and had an opinion on the draught19 of the stove, without my asking him, and I could see that he thought many of my arrangements not half clever enough. I remember telling him that if I were only rich I would offer him a salary to come and teach me how to live. Sometimes he gave a random20 sigh, of which the essence was: “Give me even such a bare old barrack as THIS, and I’d do something with it!” When I wanted to use him he came alone; which was an illustration of the superior courage of women. His wife could bear her solitary21 second floor, and she was in general more discreet22; showing by various small reserves that she was alive to the propriety of keeping our relations markedly professional — not letting them slide into sociability23. She wished it to remain clear that she and the Major were employed, not cultivated, and if she approved of me as a superior, who could be kept in his place, she never thought me quite good enough for an equal.
She sat with great intensity24, giving the whole of her mind to it, and was capable of remaining for an hour almost as motionless as if she were before a photographer’s lens. I could see she had been photographed often, but somehow the very habit that made her good for that purpose unfitted her for mine. At first I was extremely pleased with her lady-like air, and it was a satisfaction, on coming to follow her lines, to see how good they were and how far they could lead the pencil. But after a few times I began to find her too insurmountably stiff; do what I would with it my drawing looked like a photograph or a copy of a photograph. Her figure had no variety of expression — she herself had no sense of variety. You may say that this was my business, was only a question of placing her. I placed her in every conceivable position, but she managed to obliterate25 their differences. She was always a lady certainly, and into the bargain was always the same lady. She was the real thing, but always the same thing. There were moments when I was oppressed by the serenity26 of her confidence that she WAS the real thing. All her dealings with me and all her husband’s were an implication that this was lucky for ME. Meanwhile I found myself trying to invent types that approached her own, instead of making her own transform itself — in the clever way that was not impossible, for instance, to poor Miss Churm. Arrange as I would and take the precautions I would, she always, in my pictures, came out too tall — landing me in the dilemma27 of having represented a fascinating woman as seven feet high, which, out of respect perhaps to my own very much scantier28 inches, was far from my idea of such a personage.
The case was worse with the Major — nothing I could do would keep HIM down, so that he became useful only for the representation of brawny29 giants. I adored variety and range, I cherished human accidents, the illustrative note; I wanted to characterise closely, and the thing in the world I most hated was the danger of being ridden by a type. I had quarrelled with some of my friends about it — I had parted company with them for maintaining that one HAD to be, and that if the type was beautiful (witness Raphael and Leonardo), the servitude was only a gain. I was neither Leonardo nor Raphael; I might only be a presumptuous30 young modern searcher, but I held that everything was to be sacrificed sooner than character. When they averred31 that the haunting type in question could easily BE character, I retorted, perhaps superficially: “Whose?” It couldn’t be everybody’s — it might end in being nobody’s.
After I had drawn32 Mrs. Monarch a dozen times I perceived more clearly than before that the value of such a model as Miss Churm resided precisely33 in the fact that she had no positive stamp, combined of course with the other fact that what she did have was a curious and inexplicable34 talent for imitation. Her usual appearance was like a curtain which she could draw up at request for a capital performance. This performance was simply suggestive; but it was a word to the wise — it was vivid and pretty. Sometimes, even, I thought it, though she was plain herself, too insipidly35 pretty; I made it a reproach to her that the figures drawn from her were monotonously36 (betement, as we used to say) graceful37. Nothing made her more angry: it was so much her pride to feel that she could sit for characters that had nothing in common with each other. She would accuse me at such moments of taking away her “reputytion.”
It suffered a certain shrinkage, this queer quantity, from the repeated visits of my new friends. Miss Churm was greatly in demand, never in want of employment, so I had no scruple38 in putting her off occasionally, to try them more at my ease. It was certainly amusing at first to do the real thing — it was amusing to do Major Monarch’s trousers. They WERE the real thing, even if he did come out colossal39. It was amusing to do his wife’s back hair (it was so mathematically neat,) and the particular “smart” tension of her tight stays. She lent herself especially to positions in which the face was somewhat averted40 or blurred41; she abounded42 in lady-like back views and profils perdus. When she stood erect43 she took naturally one of the attitudes in which court-painters represent queens and princesses; so that I found myself wondering whether, to draw out this accomplishment44, I couldn’t get the editor of the Cheapside to publish a really royal romance, “A Tale of Buckingham Palace.” Sometimes, however, the real thing and the make-believe came into contact; by which I mean that Miss Churm, keeping an appointment or coming to make one on days when I had much work in hand, encountered her invidious rivals. The encounter was not on their part, for they noticed her no more than if she had been the housemaid; not from intentional45 loftiness, but simply because, as yet, professionally, they didn’t know how to fraternise, as I could guess that they would have liked — or at least that the Major would. They couldn’t talk about the omnibus — they always walked; and they didn’t know what else to try — she wasn’t interested in good trains or cheap claret. Besides, they must have felt — in the air — that she was amused at them, secretly derisive46 of their ever knowing how. She was not a person to conceal47 her scepticism if she had had a chance to show it. On the other hand Mrs. Monarch didn’t think her tidy; for why else did she take pains to say to me (it was going out of the way, for Mrs. Monarch), that she didn’t like dirty women?
One day when my young lady happened to be present with my other sitters (she even dropped in, when it was convenient, for a chat), I asked her to be so good as to lend a hand in getting tea — a service with which she was familiar and which was one of a class that, living as I did in a small way, with slender domestic resources, I often appealed to my models to render. They liked to lay hands on my property, to break the sitting, and sometimes the china — I made them feel Bohemian. The next time I saw Miss Churm after this incident she surprised me greatly by making a scene about it — she accused me of having wished to humiliate48 her. She had not resented the outrage49 at the time, but had seemed obliging and amused, enjoying the comedy of asking Mrs. Monarch, who sat vague and silent, whether she would have cream and sugar, and putting an exaggerated simper into the question. She had tried intonations50 — as if she too wished to pass for the real thing; till I was afraid my other visitors would take offence.
Oh, THEY were determined51 not to do this; and their touching patience was the measure of their great need. They would sit by the hour, uncomplaining, till I was ready to use them; they would come back on the chance of being wanted and would walk away cheerfully if they were not. I used to go to the door with them to see in what magnificent order they retreated. I tried to find other employment for them — I introduced them to several artists. But they didn’t “take,” for reasons I could appreciate, and I became conscious, rather anxiously, that after such disappointments they fell back upon me with a heavier weight. They did me the honour to think that it was I who was most THEIR form. They were not picturesque52 enough for the painters, and in those days there were not so many serious workers in black and white. Besides, they had an eye to the great job I had mentioned to them — they had secretly set their hearts on supplying the right essence for my pictorial53 vindication54 of our fine novelist. They knew that for this undertaking55 I should want no costume-effects, none of the frippery of past ages — that it was a case in which everything would be contemporary and satirical and, presumably, genteel. If I could work them into it their future would be assured, for the labour would of course be long and the occupation steady.
One day Mrs. Monarch came without her husband — she explained his absence by his having had to go to the City. While she sat there in her usual anxious stiffness there came, at the door, a knock which I immediately recognised as the subdued56 appeal of a model out of work. It was followed by the entrance of a young man whom I easily perceived to be a foreigner and who proved in fact an Italian acquainted with no English word but my name, which he uttered in a way that made it seem to include all others. I had not then visited his country, nor was I proficient57 in his tongue; but as he was not so meanly constituted — what Italian is? — as to depend only on that member for expression he conveyed to me, in familiar but graceful mimicry58, that he was in search of exactly the employment in which the lady before me was engaged. I was not struck with him at first, and while I continued to draw I emitted rough sounds of discouragement and dismissal. He stood his ground, however, not importunately59, but with a dumb, dog-like fidelity60 in his eyes which amounted to innocent impudence61 — the manner of a devoted62 servant (he might have been in the house for years), unjustly suspected. Suddenly I saw that this very attitude and expression made a picture, whereupon I told him to sit down and wait till I should be free. There was another picture in the way he obeyed me, and I observed as I worked that there were others still in the way he looked wonderingly, with his head thrown back, about the high studio. He might have been crossing himself in St. Peter’s. Before I finished I said to myself: “The fellow’s a bankrupt orange-monger, but he’s a treasure.”
When Mrs. Monarch withdrew he passed across the room like a flash to open the door for her, standing63 there with the rapt, pure gaze of the young Dante spellbound by the young Beatrice. As I never insisted, in such situations, on the blankness of the British domestic, I reflected that he had the making of a servant (and I needed one, but couldn’t pay him to be only that), as well as of a model; in short I made up my mind to adopt my bright adventurer if he would agree to officiate in the double capacity. He jumped at my offer, and in the event my rashness (for I had known nothing about him), was not brought home to me. He proved a sympathetic though a desultory64 ministrant, and had in a wonderful degree the sentiment de la pose. It was uncultivated, instinctive65; a part of the happy instinct which had guided him to my door and helped him to spell out my name on the card nailed to it. He had had no other introduction to me than a guess, from the shape of my high north window, seen outside, that my place was a studio and that as a studio it would contain an artist. He had wandered to England in search of fortune, like other itinerants66, and had embarked67, with a partner and a small green handcart, on the sale of penny ices. The ices had melted away and the partner had dissolved in their train. My young man wore tight yellow trousers with reddish stripes and his name was Oronte. He was sallow but fair, and when I put him into some old clothes of my own he looked like an Englishman. He was as good as Miss Churm, who could look, when required, like an Italian.
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1
elucidation
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| n.说明，阐明 | |
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monarch
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| n.帝王，君主，最高统治者 | |
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sufficiently
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| adv.足够地，充分地 | |
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propriety
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| n.正当行为；正当；适当 | |
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meddling
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| v.干涉，干预（他人事务）( meddle的现在分词 ) | |
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tiresome
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| adj.令人疲劳的，令人厌倦的 | |
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pessimists
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| n.悲观主义者( pessimist的名词复数 ) | |
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humble
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| adj.谦卑的，恭顺的；地位低下的；v.降低，贬低 | |
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lamentable
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| adj.令人惋惜的，悔恨的 | |
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lodgings
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| n. 出租的房舍, 寄宿舍 | |
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tact
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| n.机敏，圆滑，得体 | |
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sordid
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| adj.肮脏的，不干净的，卑鄙的，暗淡的 | |
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hindrance
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| n.妨碍，障碍 | |
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intercourse
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| n.性交；交流，交往，交际 | |
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fumble
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| vi.笨拙地用手摸、弄、接等，摸索 | |
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lore
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| n.传说；学问，经验，知识 | |
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ornithologist
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| n.鸟类学家 | |
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touching
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| adj.动人的，使人感伤的 | |
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draught
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| n.拉，牵引，拖；一网（饮，吸，阵)；顿服药量，通风；v.起草，设计 | |
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random
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| adj.随机的；任意的；n.偶然的(或随便的)行动 | |
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solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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discreet
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| adj.(言行)谨慎的；慎重的；有判断力的 | |
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sociability
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| n.好交际，社交性，善于交际 | |
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intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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obliterate
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| v.擦去，涂抹，去掉...痕迹，消失，除去 | |
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serenity
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| n.宁静，沉着，晴朗 | |
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dilemma
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| n.困境，进退两难的局面 | |
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scantier
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| adj.（大小或数量）不足的，勉强够的( scanty的比较级 ) | |
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brawny
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| adj.强壮的 | |
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presumptuous
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| adj.胆大妄为的，放肆的，冒昧的，冒失的 | |
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31
averred
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| v.断言( aver的过去式和过去分词 )；证实；证明…属实；作为事实提出 | |
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drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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precisely
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| adv.恰好，正好，精确地，细致地 | |
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inexplicable
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| adj.无法解释的，难理解的 | |
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insipidly
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| adv.没有味道地，清淡地 | |
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monotonously
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| adv.单调地，无变化地 | |
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graceful
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| adj.优美的，优雅的；得体的 | |
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scruple
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| n./v.顾忌，迟疑 | |
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colossal
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| adj.异常的，庞大的 | |
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averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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abounded
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| v.大量存在，充满，富于( abound的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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erect
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| n./v.树立，建立，使竖立；adj.直立的，垂直的 | |
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accomplishment
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| n.完成，成就，（pl.）造诣，技能 | |
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intentional
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| adj.故意的，有意（识）的 | |
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derisive
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| adj.嘲弄的 | |
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conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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48
humiliate
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| v.使羞辱，使丢脸[同]disgrace | |
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outrage
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| n.暴行，侮辱，愤怒；vt.凌辱，激怒 | |
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intonations
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| n.语调，说话的抑扬顿挫( intonation的名词复数 )；（演奏或唱歌中的）音准 | |
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51
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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52
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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pictorial
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| adj.绘画的；图片的；n．画报 | |
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vindication
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| n.洗冤，证实 | |
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undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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proficient
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| adj.熟练的，精通的；n.能手，专家 | |
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mimicry
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| n.（生物）拟态，模仿 | |
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importunately
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fidelity
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| n.忠诚，忠实；精确 | |
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impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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devoted
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| adj.忠诚的，忠实的，热心的，献身于...的 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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desultory
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| adj.散漫的，无方法的 | |
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instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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itinerants
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| n.巡回者（如传教士、行商等）( itinerant的名词复数 ) | |
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embarked
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| 乘船( embark的过去式和过去分词 )； 装载； 从事 | |
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