The Complete Short Stories of Mark Twain - All 169 Tales in One Edition. Mark TwainЧитать онлайн книгу.
the nose of America! He made another pass and two of her fingers fell to the floor — another, and part of an ear came away — another, and a row of toes was mangled and dismembered — another, and the left leg, from the knee down, lay a fragmentary ruin!
John put on his hat and departed.
George gazed speechless upon the battered and grotesque nightmare before him for the space of thirty seconds, and then wilted to the floor and went into convulsions.
John returned presently with a carriage, got the brokenhearted artist and the broken-legged statue aboard, and drove off, whistling low and tranquilly.
He left the artist at his lodgings, and drove off and disappeared down the Via Quirinalis with the statue.
CHAPTER IV.
[Scene — The Studio.]
“The six months will be up at two o’clock to-day! Oh, agony! My life is blighted. I would that I were dead. I had no supper yesterday. I have had no breakfast to-day. I dare not enter an eating-house. And hungry? — don’t mention it! My bootmaker duns me to death — my tailor duns me — my landlord haunts me. I am miserable. I haven’t seen John since that awful day. She smiles on me tenderly when we meet in the great thoroughfares, but her old flint of a father makes her look in the other direction in short order. Now who is knocking at that door? Who is come to persecute me? That malignant villain the bootmaker, I’ll warrant. Come in!”
“Ah, happiness attend your highness — Heaven be propitious to your grace! I have brought my lord’s new boots — ah, say nothing about the pay, there is no hurry, none in the world. Shall be proud if my noble lord will continue to honor me with his custom — ah, adieu!”
“Brought the boots himself! Don’t want his pay! Takes his leave with a bow and a scrape fit to honor majesty withal! Desires a continuance of my custom! Is the world coming to an end? Of all the — come in!”
“Pardon, signore, but I have brought your new suit of clothes for — ”
“Come in!”
“A thousand pardons for this intrusion, your worship. But I have prepared the beautiful suite of rooms below for you — this wretched den is but ill suited to — ”
“Come in!”
“I have called to say that your credit at our bank, some time since unfortunately interrupted, is entirely and most satisfactorily restored, and we shall be most happy if you will draw upon us for any — ”
“COME IN!”
“My noble boy, she is yours! She’ll be here in a moment! Take her — marry her — love her — be happy! — God bless you both! Hip, hip, hur — ”
“COME IN!!!!!”
“Oh, George, my own darling, we are saved!”
“Oh, Mary, my own darling, we are saved — but I’ll swear I don’t know why nor how!”
CHAPTER V.
[Scene-A Roman Cafe.]
One of a group of American gentlemen reads and translates from the weekly edition of ‘Il Slangwhanger di Roma’ as follows:
WONDERFUL DISCOVERY — Some six months ago Signor John Smitthe, an American gentleman now some years a resident of Rome, purchased for a trifle a small piece of ground in the Campagna, just beyond the tomb of the Scipio family, from the owner, a bankrupt relative of the Princess Borghese. Mr. Smitthe afterward went to the Minister of the Public Records and had the piece of ground transferred to a poor American artist named George Arnold, explaining that he did it as payment and satisfaction for pecuniary damage accidentally done by him long since upon property belonging to Signor Arnold, and further observed that he would make additional satisfaction by improving the ground for Signor A., at his own charge and cost. Four weeks ago, while making some necessary excavations upon the property, Signor Smitthe unearthed the most remarkable ancient statue that has ever been added to the opulent art treasures of Rome. It was an exquisite figure of a woman, and though sadly stained by the soil and the mold of ages, no eye can look unmoved upon its ravishing beauty. The nose, the left leg from the knee down, an ear, and also the toes of the right foot and two fingers of one of the hands were gone, but otherwise the noble figure was in a remarkable state of preservation. The government at once took military possession of the statue, and appointed a commission of art-critics, antiquaries, and cardinal princes of the church to assess its value and determine the remuneration that must go to the owner of the ground in which it was found. The whole affair was kept a profound secret until last night. In the mean time the commission sat with closed doors and deliberated. Last night they decided unanimously that the statue is a Venus, and the work of some unknown but sublimely gifted artist of the third century before Christ. They consider it the most faultless work of art the world has any knowledge of.
At midnight they held a final conference and decided that the Venus was worth the enormous sum of ten million francs! In accordance with Roman law and Roman usage, the government being half-owner in all works of art found in the Campagna, the State has naught to do but pay five million francs to Mr. Arnold and take permanent possession of the beautiful statue. This morning the Venus will be removed to the Capitol, there to remain, and at noon the commission will wait upon Signor Arnold with His Holiness the Pope’s order upon the Treasury for the princely sum of five million francs in gold!
Chorus of Voices. — ”Luck! It’s no name for it!”
Another Voice. — ”Gentlemen, I propose that we immediately form an American joint-stock company for the purchase of lands and excavations of statues here, with proper connections in Wall Street to bull and bear the stock.”
All. — ”Agreed.”
CHAPTER VI.
[Scene — The Roman Capitol Ten Years Later.]
“Dearest Mary, this is the most celebrated statue in the world. This is the renowned ‘Capitoline Venus’ you’ve heard so much about. Here she is with her little blemishes ‘restored’ (that is, patched) by the most noted Roman artists — and the mere fact that they did the humble patching of so noble a creation will make their names illustrious while the world stands. How strange it seems — this place! The day before I last stood here, ten happy years ago, I wasn’t a rich man bless your soul, I hadn’t a cent. And yet I had a good deal to do with making Rome mistress of this grandest work of ancient art the world contains.”
“The worshiped, the illustrious Capitoline Venus — and what a sum she is valued at! Ten millions of francs!”
“Yes — now she is.”
“And oh, Georgy, how divinely beautiful she is!”
“Ah, yes but nothing to what she was before that blessed John Smith broke her leg and battered her nose. Ingenious Smith! — gifted Smith! — noble Smith! Author of all our bliss! Hark! Do you know what that wheeze means? Mary, that cub has got the whooping-cough. Will you never learn to take care of the children!”
THE END
The Capitoline Venus is still in the Capitol at Rome, and is still the most charming and most illustrious work of ancient art the world can boast of. But if ever it shall be your fortune to stand before it and go into the customary ecstasies over it, don’t permit this true and secret history of its origin to mar your bliss — and when you read about a gigantic Petrified man being dug up near Syracuse, in the State of New York, or near any other place, keep your own counsel — and if the Barnum that buried him there offers to sell to you at an enormous sum, don’t you buy. Send him to the Pope!
[NOTE. — The above sketch was written at the time the famous swindle of the “Petrified