You are the first,
After the master and myself, to look
Upon this wonder.
Lorenzo (with enthusiasm, looking for the first time at the picture).
Ah, what an answer this
For envious minds that would restrict his power
To writhing limbs and shrivelled flesh! Repose,
Beauty, and large simplicity are here.
Yes, that is art ! Before such work I stand
And feel myself a dwarf.
MARIA.
There, you are wrong.
My father even, who knows his proper worth,
Before his best achievements I have seen
In like dejection ; t is the curse of genius.
Oft have I heard the master grace your name
With flattering addition.
LORENZO.
’T is your goodness,
And not the echo of his praise, that speaks.
My work was worthless t was your generous voice
Alone secured the master s second glance.
MARIA.
Nay, signer, frankly, he esteems your talent.
