Page:Hoffmann's Strange Stories - Hoffman - 1855.djvu/188

 forehead, blackened by the fire and covered with blood and dust. Berthold thought that he was dreaming, but Angiola said to him:

"My friend, my savior, I recognize thee, thou art Berthold, the celebrated German painter; thou hast seen me but once before, and thou hast loved me so much, that my features were reproduced under thy pencil in all thy works. Then a great distance separated us, and I could not be thine; but now, in Naples, destroyed by fire, there is no longer any patricians nor separations required by the pride of rank. Come, Berthold, let us fly, let us go and seek a home in thy country: I am thine forever!"

The artist was beside himself; so much unexpected happiness exceeded his strength; but love performs miracles, and after many dangers the two fugitives succeeded in escaping from the city without being recognized or pursued. They approached gradually the south of Germany, where Berthold hoped to create, by his talents, a rich and happy life for Angiola. Arrived in the city of M, he resolved to establish, at one trial, his reputation, by painting a large church picture. He chose for his subject, the Virgin Mary and Elizabeth having at their feet the child Jesus and St. John. This composition was very simple; but this time the artist had lost his power. His ideas had become confused again; he did nothing but commence and efface without any success. The face of the Virgin had, in spite of him, features of terrestrial beauty; it was the face of Angiola, but deprived of all its poetry. The beautiful Neapolitan sat to him in all the brilliancy of her charms; the painter only succeeded in fixing on the canvas nothing but waxen tints, with mournful and glassy eyes. Then his melancholy attacked him again with unheard of pains; the loss of his talent plunged him into frightful misery, which was augmented by the birth of a son. Misery leads, by a fatal drag, either to crime or madness. Berthold took an aversion to his poor wife, who nevertheless, did not complain; and as suffering and privations had faded her attractions: