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Updated: June 15, 2025
Vanity means emptiness, and in the case of the artist it means that emptiness which craves to be filled with praise. The artist may doubt his own work, but he is bitterly disappointed if other people doubt it also. Marzio had his full share of this kind of vanity, which, as in most cases, extended beyond the sphere of his art.
Marzio was a fanatic in his theories, but he had something of the artist's simplicity in his idea of the way they should be carried out. He would have thought it no harm to kill a priest, but it seemed to him contemptible to receive a priest's money for providing the church with vessels which were to serve in a worship he despised. Moreover, he was not poor.
He is a better man than you, as I told you last night, and I repeat it now take care " Marzio made a movement as though he would rise, and at the same instant Gianbattista seized the long, fine-pointed punch, which served for the eyes of the cherubs a dangerous weapon in a determined hand. Don Paolo had risen from his chair, and was trying to push himself between the two.
The good man wished with all his heart that Marzio could be softened a little, that he might be made to consider his daughter's feelings, to betray some sign of an affection which seemed wholly dead, to show some more human side of his character. But the situation at present forbade Don Paolo from making any further effort.
She easily fancied that Marzio, after his interview with Don Paolo, had felt a great and sudden revulsion of sentiment. She knew that the priest had not left the studio many minutes before, and she saw her father apparently praying before a crucifix. A wonderful conversion had been effected, and the result was there manifest to the girl's eyes.
Marzio went in. There was a small shaded lamp on the deal table, which illuminated the room with a soft light. Marzio felt that he could not trust himself at first to look at his brother's face. He set the crucifix upon the old chest of drawers, and put the lamp near it. Then he remained standing before it with his back to the bed, and his hands in the pockets of his blouse.
Marzio finished fastening the door, and then turned round. On seeing his wife he remained silent for a moment, looking at her with an expression of dissatisfied inquiry. He had not expected her. "Well?" he ejaculated at last. "It is dinner time," remarked the stout lady. "Yes, I heard the gun," answered Marzio drily.
You are rich, married, a father, a great artist!" "What stuff!" interrupted Marzio, standing still with his long legs apart, and folding his arms as he spoke through his teeth, between which he still held his pipe. "Rich? Yes able to have a good coat for feast-days, meat when I want it, and my brother's company when I don't want it for a luxury, you know!
The latter were a young and happy pair: the husband, a chorus singer at the Apollo, who worked at glove cleaning during the day time; his wife, a sempstress, who did repairs upon the costumes of the theatre. Their apartments consisted of two rooms and a kitchen, while Marzio and his family occupied the rest of the floor, and entered their lodging by the opposite door.
But Gianbattista would not let him. "For heaven's sake," cried the priest in great distress, "no violence, Tista I will call the men " "Never fear," answered the apprentice quietly; "the man is a coward." "To me you dare to say that to me!" exclaimed Marzio, drawing back at the same time. "Yes it is quite true. But do not suppose that I think any the worse of you on that account, Sor Marzio."
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