Lucia
N—nothing, Paulo. I—I merely thought a moment of those other painters, of Vernio, of Gagliano, the favoured ones who have wealthy patrons, so that they can work in ease and comfort, lacking nothing——
Paulo
(Grandly.) Except my inspiration—and my liberty. Think what that means. My work is done in freedom, and must surpass their best since it is bought of luxury. (Earnest and contemptuous.) What artist, no matter his genius, that can see truth while a patron jogs his brush, bidding him do this and that, set here a touch of gold and there of scarlet, put here a flower, a bird, and there a—a (explodes)—a sprat—! Why not? It is the soul alone that sees truth, and such men have sold their souls. They will be paid accordingly.
Lucia
(Agitated.) There are some patrons who—it is said—give freedom, liberty too.
Paulo
I never heard their names.
Lucia