large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_1_macdonald_64kb_30
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_1_macdonald_64kb
English
5293
Some had said that she was the painter's wife; that she had been false to him; that he had killed her; and, finding that that was no sufficing revenge, thus half in love, and half in deepest hate, immortalised his vengeance. But it was now universally understood that it was his daughter, of whose loveliness extravagant reports went abroad; though all said, doubtless reading this from her father's pictures, that she was a beauty without a heart. SOME HAD SAID THAT SHE WAS THE PAINTER'S WIFE THAT SHE HAD BEEN FALSE TO HIM THAT HE HAD KILLED HER AND FINDING THAT WAS NO SUFFICING REVENGE THUS HALF IN LOVE AND HALF IN DEEPEST HATE IMMORTALIZED HIS VENGEANCE BUT IT WAS NOW UNIVERSALLY UNDERSTOOD THAT IT WAS HIS DAUGHTER OF WHOSE LOVELINESS EXTRAVAGANT REPORTS WENT ABROAD THOUGH ALL SET DOUBTLESS READING THIS FROM HER FATHER'S PICTURES THAT SHE WAS A BEAUTY WITHOUT A HEART
nce its very loveliness became almost hateful to those who beheld it. Not a shade crossed the still sky of that brow, not a ripple disturbed the still sea of that cheek. She did not hate, she did not love the sufferers: the painter would not have her hate, for that would be to the injury of her loveliness: would not have her love, for he hated. Sometimes she floated above, as a still, unobservant angel, her gaze turned upward, dreaming along, careless as a white summer cloud, across the blue. If she looked down on the scene below, it was only that the beholder might see that she saw and did not care--that not a feather of her outspread pinions would quiver at the sight. Sometimes she would stand in the crowd, as if she had been copied there from another picture, and had nothing to do with this one, nor any right to be in it at all. Or when the red blood was trickling drop by drop from the crushed limb, she might be seen standing nearest, smiling over a primrose or the bloom on a peach. ENDURERS IN THE PICTURE HENCE ITS VERY LOVELINESS BECAME ALMOST HATEFUL TO THOSE WHO BEHELD IT NOT A SHADE CROSSED THE STILL SKY OF THAT BROW NOT A RIPPLE DISTURBED THE STILL SEA OF THAT CHEEK SHE DID NOT HATE SHE DID NOT LOVE THE SUFFERERS THE PAINTER WOULD NOT HAVE HER HATE FOR THAT WOULD BE TO THE INJURY OF HER LOVELINESS WOULD NOT HAVE HER LOVE FOR HE HATED SOMETIMES SHE FLOATED ABOVE AS A STILL UNOBSERVANT ANGEL HER GAZE TURNED UPWARD DREAMING ALONG CARELESS AS A WHITE SUMMER CLOUD ACROSS THE BLUE IF SHE LOOKED DOWN ON THE SCENE BELOW IT WAS ONLY THAT THE BEHOLDER MIGHT SEE THAT SHE SAW AND DID NOT CARE THAT NOT A FEATHER OF HER OUTSPREAD PINIONS WOULD QUIVER AT THE SIGHT SOMETIMES SHE WOULD STAND IN THE CROWD AS IF SHE HAD BEEN COPIED THERE FROM ANOTHER PICTURE AND HAD NOTHING TO DO WITH THIS ONE NOR ANY RIGHT TO BE IN IT AT ALL OR WHEN THE RED BLOOD WAS TRICKLING DROP BY DROP FROM THE CRUSHED LIMB SHE MIGHT BE SEEN STANDING NEAREST SMILING OVER A PRIMROSE OR THE BLOOM ON A PEACH
large/5293/cruelpainter_1203_librivox_64kb_mp3/cruelpainter_1_macdonald_64kb
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