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In fact, his face bore no bad resemblance to that of Mephistopheles, as represented in Retsch's powerful conception and delineation of it in his illustration of Goethe's "Faust," so inimitably translated by our admirable countryman, Anster. The stranger now looked at his watch, bade them good day, and took his leave.
Rose looked at it all at the piles of tiny garments, the cradle, the pictures from Retsch's 'Song of the Bell, which had been the companion of their own childhood, on the walls and something stirred in the girl's breast. 'Catherine, I believe you have everything you want, or you soon will have! she cried, almost with a kind of bitterness, laying her hands on her sister's shoulders.
I related one of my stories to him, and for this I received a lovely drawing, a beautiful young girl hiding herself behind the mask of an old woman; thus should the eternally youthful soul, with its blooming loveliness, peep forth from behind the old mask of the fairy- tale. Retsch's pictures are rich in thought, full of beauty, and a genial spirit.
I could have fancied they made grimaces and gestures at me, like the rocks and roots in Retsch's etchings of the Brocken; and I used to reach the house with cheeks flaming with nervous excitement, and my heart thumping a great deal more with fear than with my wild run home; and then I walked with the utmost external composure of demure propriety into the drawing-room, as who should say, "Thy servant went no whither," to any inquiry that might be made as to my absence....
"I shall know what it means, I suppose, when I see the pictures. What is this 'Game of Life?" "It is Retsch's engraving," Daisy answered, as sedately as if she had been forty years old. "Retsch! yes, I know him but what does the thing mean?" "It is supposed to be the devil playing with a young man for his soul," Daisy said, very gravely. "Who plays the devil?" "Preston does."
Rose looked at it all at the piles of tiny garments, the cradle, the pictures from Retsch's 'Song of the Bell, which had been the companions of their own childhood, on the walls and something stirred in the girl's breast. 'Catherine, I believe you have everything you want, or you soon will have! she cried, almost with a kind of bitterness, laying her hands on her sister's shoulders.
I should like to have seen Denon's face!" "And Monsieur Denon did take a portrait of Mr. Rogers as Cupid, I believe?" "Come, madam, 'no scandal about Queen Elizabeth. Mr. Rogers is one of the most elegant-minded men in the country." "Nay! do not lecture me with such a laughing face, or else your moral will be utterly thrown away." "Ah! you have Retsch's 'Faust' there.
Retsch's genius was too absolutely German to allow of his treating anything from any but a German point of view. Shakespeare, Englishman as he is, has written an Italian "Romeo and Juliet;" but Retsch's lovers are Teutonic in spite of their costume, and nowhere, as in the wonderful play, is the Southern passion made manifest through the Northern thought.
"It is Retsch's engraving," Daisy answered, as sedately as if she had been forty years old. "Retsch! yes, I know him but what does the thing mean?" "It is supposed to be the devil playing with a young man for his soul," Daisy said very gravely. "Who plays the devil?" "Preston does." "And who is to be the angel?" "I am to be the angel," said Daisy. "Very judicious.
My father desires me to send you Retsch's "Hamlet;" it is his, and I request you not to judge it too hastily: I have generally heard it abused, but I think in many parts it has very great merit. I am told that Retsch says he has no fancy for illustrating "Romeo and Juliet," which seems strange.
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