LITERATURE.

Globe, Volume XX, Issue 1594, 29 March 1879, Page 3

LITERATURE.

THE DOUBLE P;CTURE. Visitors to Madrid at the present moment may view a picture, or rather a double pic ture, which as a work of art equals anything the great painter Murillo ever executed, and at the same time conveys to the mind food for reflection of no ordinary character Where the picture ha 3 been hidden for so many years I am unable to state ; but to my wondering g*ze it was exhibited a few months ago at the private residence of the decendants of the family in whose palace the incidents occurred which are here about to be related. The gilding of the pictureframe has long since disappeared, but on the canvas the portrait of a beautiful lady, lifesize, is painted. She is young, just budding into wom?nh od, divsfed in tlr go-geous Spanish btyli of the seventeenth century. No one can'doubt her beauty, h?r wealthy or he- high station. She h just atrelchiug forth her hand to greet a visitor, an 1 words of kindness appear to bo coming from her half-opened bW. The countenance exp-esscs perfect happiness, and suggests that care or dis?apoint'nent has never assailed that pure oreatu e. A notice in Spanish talked to the frame tells the spectator to " turo the p cture." Appliances are made easy for the latter purpose, a'.d then the spactator sr>es painted on the revo-ao a vault, a colfiu, and a pah) face with tha hues of death upon it. There are cloulds above thi3, yet they seem to be breaking away, and binning vietas of a better world appear ; whilst here and there angels' faces, full of love and joy, peep through the slight openings, as if beckoning the spirit aloft. The features of the dead are evidently identical with those

of the lady on the obverse. But everything on the lower part of the reverse fide of the canvas denotes decay The moulderiug coffins, the damp slimy walla, with flickering torches around, would indeed be horrible to gaze upon, were it not for the brighter spectacle above. I longed to know the history of this wonderful double picture; and my Spanish guide collected the following facts, which he gathered partly from manuscripts and partly from the >e Villamanriquc family. Philip IV of Spain kept up a grand royal court at Madr'd early in the seventh century. Olivarcz, was the Prime Minister and favourite of the king, greatly patronised the line arts, and welcomed men of genius to his palace, accepting them as his guests. About IG2O Velasquez, though born in Seville, visited Madrid, and painted so faithfully the portrait of the Minister, that Philip sat for his own portrait, and_ appointed Velasquez the court painter. Prince Charles, afterwards Charles I. of England, sat to the same artist, who now claimed friendship with all the nobles of the cour*. About 162 S Rubens was sent on a political mission to Spain, and becamo closely associated witn Velasquez; and in such esteem were the two great V^ tcTB h - eld ' th f tho % were invited to all the royal bauij'J?* B ' an . d the highest nobles in the land desired to do them honour. A few years later Murilio, who was also born in Seville, came with letters of introduction to Velasquez, and was accepted in the same society as his brother painters. Amongst the nobility of that period was the Count de Villemanrique, who gave the largest and most select entertainments; and young Murilio, who was a brilliant scholar and of distinguished birth, attracted his special attention. Murilio was but a comparative youth when he completed his first great picture illustrative of the " Life of Joseph." His patron, Count Villamanrique (for whom it was painted) wished to exhibit this as a work of art to his friends.

A new picture, of merit, was in Madrid at that period an idol; it served as food for conversation, whether by persons of genius or by those who quoted others' opinions; more than this, it was frequently the medium of bringing together the aristocrats of the period, and served as an excuse for social gatherings The young painter's new picture was to be exhibited at Viljamanrique's palace, and all the nobles in Madrid were invited to view it. On the day of the exhibition the streets were crowded with carriages containg persons of the highest rank, including the Prime Minister, all wending their way to Count Villamanrique's mansion, which was lighted up in the fullest gala character of tho age: The rooms were soon filled with youth and beauty, as well as with age and genius. The banqueting-room, the ball-room, and even the approaches were brilliantly illuminated ; the nobles and ladies, bedecked in rich velvets and jewels, flitted from one room to another, or formed themselves into circles ±or conversation until music burst forth, and there was a rush to the dancing-room. Amongst all the grace and beauty of that assembly none attracted so much interest as Catalina, the Couut's daughter and heiress to the estatas of Villamanrique. Her large liquid eyes had an expression peculiarly charming in a Spanish lady ; her complexion was clear ano bright ; and her b'ack hair curling luxuriantly down her shoulders, made her the personification of a Spanish belle. Ah to the picture, at intervals persons would come a«ain and again into the banoueting-hall, where it was placed, and gaze'with "rapt attention upon ifc. But the painter heard not the praises lavished upon himself or bis work ; one object alone attracted his attention, and that was the heautiful Catalina. They are now together, for among the gay cavaliers and proud nobles assembled at Villamrique palace that evening none excelled the young painter in grace and elegance, whilst his handsome countenance beamed Jwith honest pleasure ; and as he and Catalina joined in the dance or walked together side by side, every eye seemed bent in admiration of the yourig couple; and even the Count smiled approval, as he had a great regard for Murilio, and considered him quite his daughter's equal; indeed, the matter appeared to be settled that same evening in the minds of all present that the young people were made for each other. The youthful painter returned to his looms that night, or rather early morning, in a transport of delight never exoerienced before. This was followed by day 3 and months of happiness, for he was invited to take up his abode in CountgVillamanrique's palace, and every day he saw his lady-love, and every day he painted as he had never painted before. The canvas seemed to glow with life beneath his band; and the nroudest work he wa« executing was the portrait of his lovely Catalina; but this for the present was to be kept a secret Murilio was counted the happiest man in all Madrid. No assembly was complete without him; and his joyful laugh and his merry wit always attracted general attention. At length the betrothal was an understood affair; and Murilio went to tell his friends the joyful tidings at Seville, and invite some of them to be present at the ceremony. It was evening when he returned to Madrid. He saw Catalina enter the cathe dral, watched her as she dipped her finger in the consecrated water and as she knelt in silent prayer amid the worshiping throng. The young man knelt reverently by her side until the vesper service was concluded, when she rose with a dejected air to depart; but scarcely had she quitted the church when. Murilio gently touched the maiden, who turned her head quickly and greeted him with surprise and joy. 'Welcome back, Esteban" (he was named Esteban Bartolemeo Murilio), she said; "welcome back to Madrid ! ' ' N our devotion should indeed bring down a blessing, for never was such a devotee I knelt beside you all through the service and yet you deigned Dot to give me one single glance ' Catalina laughing rejoined : { Well, I shall no longer need the offices of my servant;' and turning to the old man who was following her with the kneeling cushion and the book of prayer, said : 'You can go home now, good Bartolo, and tell the Count that his daughter is in safe hands.' The young couple walked along as lovers should do, happy in each other's society; but somehow the painter saw a shade of sadness on the maiden's face, which he attributed to religious zeal, and from which he tried to rouse her. "I have a favor to ask of you to-morrow," he said. She quickly replied: "I will grant it before it is asked. At what time shall I see you in the morning ? " " The first favor that I ask," responded Murilio, " is that you will pay a visit to my studio as early as you conveniently can before the day advances " '■ I will be there by eight o'clock, she replied. It was a beautiful summer morning, and the sweet breath of the early day came floating into the studio, whilst the painter stood looking vacantly at an unfinished picture on the easel. How far he had got into dreamland, or what he was meditating upon, it ia impossible to divine : but the rustle of garments roused him from his reverie, when he met the sad and tearful gaze of Catalina, She had glided noiselessly into the room, and looking over Murillo's shoulder, had discovered that the cauva* before him contained an outline of her own portrait The painter seized her hand and put it t" his lips, saying, ' Why so sad, fait lady ? I will pamt you'as a Magdalen bathed in tears. Yon. have granted my first favour in coming hero The next favour lam going to ask you i* to sit for two or three succeeding days, that I may make a perfect picture of you, making it something like the original but never so beautiful. The maiden wept, and Murillo entreated her to walk in the garden, to shake off the melancholy. 'O, my Esteban!' she exclaimed, ' I feel that I am yours for ever. But length of happiness may net be flowed us on earth A time is coming, and I know only too well, when we mast part, for I have not long to live. Ido not feai to die ; but would that we had never met—not for my sake, but for yours. (To be continued,)