You will grow the stigmata of the Saviour in your
hands and feet--you will bear terrible marks of the nails hammered
into your flesh by your dearest friends! You will have to wear a
crown of thorns, set on your brows no doubt by those whom you most
love . . . and the vinegar and gall will be very quickly mixed and
offered to you by the whole world of criticism without a moment's
hesitation! And will probably have to endure your agony alone,--as
nearly everyone runs away from a declared Truth, orif they pause at
all, it is only to spit upon it and call it a Lie!"
"Do not prophesy so cruel a fate for the child!" said the Cardinal
tenderly, taking Angela's hand and drawing her towards him. "She has
a great gift,--I am sure she will use it greatly. And true greatness
is always acknowledged in the end."
"Yes, when the author or the artist has been in the grave for a
hundred years or more;" said Vergniaud incorrigibly. "I am not sure
that it would not be better for Donna Sovrani's happiness to marry
the amiable Florian Varillo at once rather than paint her great
picture! Do you not agree with me, Mr. Leigh?"
Leigh was turning over an old volume of prints in a desultory and
abstracted fashion, but on being addressed, looked up quickly.
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