DOI Seite / Zitierlink:
https://doi.org/10.11588/diglit.62133#0251
THE IMPRISONED GRACES.
235
ample, a spirit akin to the satire of our own Hogarth,
singularly and most forcibly in this design contrasts with
another element of his nature, an element as strikingly
akin to Flaxman as the other is to Hogarth,—the most
lovely appreciation of the antique—the most exquisite
grace and simplicity in his lines of composition.
A hideous three-headed monster keeps watch and ward
over a small stone cell, adorned with architectural monsters
in periwigs and lace cravats. Within the cell, and cling-
ing together on the ground, sit the imprisoned Graces.
A lamp burns beside them. One holds, listlessly, an un-
bound wreath of flowers •, another hides her face in the
lap of the third. The third Grace raises her head as
though a sudden hope had rushed to her heart and flushed
her cheek ! Sounds of rescue have reached her ear. A
mighty combat is being waged without. Upborne by a
low light cloud, on comes Minerva, with upraised spear
and shield, to attack the Cerberus. Close upon her follows
Winckelmann, who flings, with unerring aim, his ink-stand
at the monster, whilst Thorwaldsen aims vigorous blows
with his mighty mallet, and Karsten—the friend of our
Flaxman—brandishes his sword ! Up through a marsh out
of the distance comes on the architect Schenk el, with a
large portfolio beneath his arm. Hideous frogs are ready
to meet him, with hateful croakings, on the mainland, but
he cares not for them: on he comes, with calm, brave face
to aid in the rescue !
The monster's death-hour is arrived; the three scaly
necks writhe beneath the three elegant lace cravats; the
three hideous human countenances turn livid, and are dis-
torted by death-pangs, beneath the three powdered periwigs.
And lo ! on the other side of the little cell up rushes
Pegasus, carrying upon his back between his swift wings
Cornelius, wielding a tremendous two-edged sword; Over-
beck, with his devout countenance, bearing with love and
235
ample, a spirit akin to the satire of our own Hogarth,
singularly and most forcibly in this design contrasts with
another element of his nature, an element as strikingly
akin to Flaxman as the other is to Hogarth,—the most
lovely appreciation of the antique—the most exquisite
grace and simplicity in his lines of composition.
A hideous three-headed monster keeps watch and ward
over a small stone cell, adorned with architectural monsters
in periwigs and lace cravats. Within the cell, and cling-
ing together on the ground, sit the imprisoned Graces.
A lamp burns beside them. One holds, listlessly, an un-
bound wreath of flowers •, another hides her face in the
lap of the third. The third Grace raises her head as
though a sudden hope had rushed to her heart and flushed
her cheek ! Sounds of rescue have reached her ear. A
mighty combat is being waged without. Upborne by a
low light cloud, on comes Minerva, with upraised spear
and shield, to attack the Cerberus. Close upon her follows
Winckelmann, who flings, with unerring aim, his ink-stand
at the monster, whilst Thorwaldsen aims vigorous blows
with his mighty mallet, and Karsten—the friend of our
Flaxman—brandishes his sword ! Up through a marsh out
of the distance comes on the architect Schenk el, with a
large portfolio beneath his arm. Hideous frogs are ready
to meet him, with hateful croakings, on the mainland, but
he cares not for them: on he comes, with calm, brave face
to aid in the rescue !
The monster's death-hour is arrived; the three scaly
necks writhe beneath the three elegant lace cravats; the
three hideous human countenances turn livid, and are dis-
torted by death-pangs, beneath the three powdered periwigs.
And lo ! on the other side of the little cell up rushes
Pegasus, carrying upon his back between his swift wings
Cornelius, wielding a tremendous two-edged sword; Over-
beck, with his devout countenance, bearing with love and