按键盘上方向键 ← 或 → 可快速上下翻页，按键盘上的 Enter 键可回到本书目录页，按键盘上方向键 ↑ 可回到本页顶部！
————未阅读完？加入书签已便下次继续阅读！
through the early darkness； bright and happy； and burst with a shout of joy
into their home。
So； on the whole； it was well with themvery well； and Patrasche；
meeting on the highway or in the public streets the many dogs who toiled
from daybreak into nightfall； paid only with blows and curses； and
loosened from the shafts with a kick to starve and freeze as best they
mightPatrasche in his heart was very grateful to his fate； and thought it
the fairest and the kindliest the world could hold。 Though he was often
very hungry indeed when he lay down at night； though he had to work in
the heats of summer noons and the rasping chills of winter dawns； though
his feet were often tender with wounds from the sharp edges of the jagged
pavement； though he had to perform tasks beyond his strength and against
42
… Page 43…
STORIES
his natureyet he was grateful and content； he did his duty with each day；
and the eyes that he loved smiled down on him。 It was sufficient for
Patrasche。
There was only one thing which caused Patrasche any uneasiness in
his life； and it was this。 Antwerp； as all the world knows； is full at every
turn of old piles of stones； dark and ancient and majestic； standing in
crooked courts； jammed against gateways and taverns； rising by the
water's edge； with bells ringing above them in the air； and ever and again
out of their arched doors a swell of music pealing。 There they remain； the
grand old sanctuaries of the past； shut in amid the squalor； the hurry； the
crowds； the unloveliness； and the commerce of the modern world； and all
day long the clouds drift and the birds circle and the winds sigh around
them； and beneath the earth at their feet there sleepsRUBENS。
And the greatness of the mighty master still rests upon Antwerp； and
wherever we turn in its narrow streets his glory lies therein； so that all
mean things are thereby transfigured； and as we pace slowly through the
winding ways； and by the edge of the stagnant water； and through the
noisome courts； his spirit abides with us； and the heroic beauty of his
visions is about us； and the stones that once felt his footsteps and bore his
shadow seem to arise and speak of him with living voices。 For the city
which is the tomb of Rubens still lives to us through him； and him alone。
It is so quiet there by that great white sepulchreso quiet； save only
when the organ peals and the choir cries aloud the Salve Regina or the
Kyrie eleison。 Sure no artist ever had a greater gravestone than that pure
marble sanctuary gives to him in the heart of his birthplace in the chancel
of St。 Jacques。
Without Rubens； what were Antwerp？ A dirty； dusky； bustling mart；
which no man would ever care to look upon save the traders who do
business on its wharves。 With Rubens； to the whole world of men it is a
sacred name； a sacred soil； a Bethlehem where a god of art saw light； a
Golgotha where a god of art lies dead。
O nations！ closely should you treasure your great men； for by them
alone will the future know of you。 Flanders in her generations has been
wise。 In his life she glorified this greatest of her sons； and in his death she
43
… Page 44…
STORIES
magnifies his name。 But her wisdom is very rare。
Now； the trouble of Patrasche was this。 Into these great； sad piles of
stones； that reared their melancholy majesty above the crowded roofs； the
child Nello would many and many a time enter； and disappear through
their dark； arched portals； while Patrasche； left without upon the pavement；
would wearily and vainly ponder on what could be the charm which thus
allured from him his inseparable and beloved companion。 Once or twice
he did essay to see for himself； clattering up the steps with his milk…cart
behind him； but thereon he had been always sent back again summarily by
a tall custodian in black clothes and silver chains of office； and fearful of
bringing his little master into trouble； he desisted； and remained couched
patiently before the churches until such time as the boy reappeared。 It was
not the fact of his going into them which disturbed Patrasche； he knew that
people went to church； all the village went to the small； tumble…down；
gray pile opposite the red windmill。 What troubled him was that little
Nello always looked strangely when he came out； always very flushed or
very pale； and whenever he returned home after such visitations would sit
silent and dreaming； not caring to play； but gazing out at the evening skies
beyond the line of the canal； very subdued and almost sad。
What was it？ wondered Patrasche。 He thought it could not be good or
natural for the little lad to be so grave； and in his dumb fashion he tried all
he could to keep Nello by him in the sunny fields or in the busy market…
place。 But to the churches Nello would go； most often of all would he go
to the great cathedral； and Patrasche； left without on the stones by the iron
fragments of Quentin Matsys's gate； would stretch himself and yawn and
sigh； and even howl now and then； all in vain； until the doors closed and
the child perforce came forth again； and winding his arms about the dog's
neck would kiss him on his broad； tawny…colored forehead； and murmur
always the same words； 〃If I could only see them； Patrasche！if I could
only see them！〃
What were they？ pondered Patrasche； looking up with large； wistful；
sympathetic eyes。
One day； when the custodian was out of the way and the doors left ajar；
he got in for a moment after his little friend and saw。 〃They〃 were two
44
… Page 45…
STORIES
great covered pictures on either side of the choir。
Nello was kneeling； rapt as in an ecstasy； before the altar…picture of the
Assumption； and when he noticed Patrasche； and rose and drew the dog
gently out into the air； his face was wet with tears； and he looked up at the
veiled places as he passed them； and murmured to his companion； 〃It is so
terrible not to see them； Patrasche； just because one is poor and cannot pay！
He never meant that the poor should not see them when he painted them； I
am sure。 He would have had us see them a