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Untitled Article
reBaed poetry . He has not been disappointed in the result . The * Painter of Ghent' has found a ' fit audience / and considering the solitary nobleness of the attempt , at such a time , it has found a more numerous one than any writer so well versed in
the state of affaire at present as Mr . Jerrold , could fairly have anticipated . The silent and almost breathless attention with which the audience listened to this play , and the continued plaudits they bestowed , together with the recent reception of the tragedy of ' Ion , ' go far to prove the real taste of the public * when ' given a chance ' showing it .
We have stated that the play is in one act ; our extracts must consequently be few and brief . Every real lover of true dramatic beauty should purchase the work , the expense of which does not exceed that of their weekly newspaper . The following conversation takes place between Roderick
the Painter , and Ichabod , a Jew to whom the former had sold many of his works years agp , but who does not recollect his face , furrowed deep with time , but deeper with sorrow , and changed yet more perhaps by intervals of vision-seeing madness .
Ichab . It is the picture , sir—is ' t not ? Hoder . It is . Ichab . A noble thing , sir—a wondrous thing ! 1 have not eyes to see it now—but it is here , sir , here—a piece of very light . Hoder \ You knew the painter ? Ichab . I was his first patron . He would liave perished—starved with Bis wife and children , but that I spared him something , something for—Hoder , The noble things—the wondrous things he wrought !
Ichab . He had made an unthrifty match with a poor , pretty face , and his rich father—so I gathered—thrust him pennyless abroad . Hoder . And then , it seems , he turned accomplishment ta bread—to daily food for wife and babes ? You were a patron—he became a drudge . Ichab . By Aaron ' s beard , I swear I was his friend— 'his first friend ; took all he did , sir , good and bad— -aye , risked my sure gold upon a nameless hand .
Hoder . And found he no other help ? Were you alone in this good work ? Ichab , In time , other dealers flocked about him—would have bought him from roe ; but then , sir , I raised and Taised my price , and he was faithful to an early friend . That picture—' twas I think the last he sold me , —it was the last—the price I paid confirms it : aye , fifty golden
pieces . Hoder * Thy memory is worn—think again—not fifty ? Ichab * Sure I am ' twas fifty—sure , as if now I chinked the pieces in my hand . Hoder * How old art thou , K-habod ? Ichab . Seventy-five , a month and odd three days . Hoder . And every day narrowr the little , little space between thee and the grave—and every night thou layest thy dry bones in thy bed , thou yrell mayest fear { hat ere the ne * t sun set , a churchyard clay shall hold
Untitled Article
Sflfr Painter of Ghent ,
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Citation
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Monthly Repository (1806-1838) and Unitarian Chronicle (1832-1833), June 2, 1836, page 378, in the Nineteenth-Century Serials Edition (2008; 2018) ncse.ac.uk/periodicals/mruc/issues/vm2-ncseproduct2658/page/50/
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