SKETCH OF ABEL.
I AM NEARLY ASPHYXIATED.
And this is the way in which we ran the risk of losing our lives. In the studio which I had hired there was no way of putting up a stove, except by carrying the tube up through the upper floor, and so out through the roof. The expense of doing this was large, and for me very large; so I determined to make a sketch from life, and from this to put up my clay, and I hoped to be able to go on with the model without fire until the warmer season came on. But these days were so extremely cold that the model could not remain naked even for a few minutes; and we determined to warm the room with a pan of coals, in which apparently there remained a residuum of the powdery dregs of charcoal. The brazier having been lighted, and at intervals stirred up, the room, which was small, was soon tolerably warm. I was intent on modelling with my tool the outline and planes of my sketch, and moving about the model to assure myself of the movement and the ensemble, when I felt an oppression on my head; but I attributed it to the intensity of my labour, and on I went. Suddenly I saw the model make a slight movement, and draw a long deep sigh, and the eyes and the colour of his face were like those of a dead man. I ran to help him, but my legs would not hold me up. I half lost my senses, my sight grew dim. I made an effort to open the door, and fell to the ground. But I had strength enough left to drag myself along to it, and kneeling, I laid hold of the lock; but the handle would not move, and with the left thumb I was obliged to raise the spring, and with the right hand to draw the bolt, and to do it quickly. I was wrestling with death, as I well knew, and I redoubled my efforts with the determination not to die. By good fortune, by my panting I drew in a little breath of pure fresh air through the keyhole, and at last I pulled back the bolt, and threw it wide open; and there I sat drinking in full draughts of the outer air. In the streets there was not a living soul, but I could hear the joyous shouts from the races in the Piazza or Santa Croce near by. Poor Brina gasped and rolled his eyes. The air which came blowing into the room revived him, but he could not rise. I had entirely recovered, except that I felt a tight band around my head. I ran to the nearest shop, got a little vinegar, mixed it with water, and dashed it over his face. We then extinguished the fire and went away.
PETITION FOR ASSISTANCE.
I began to model the statue a few days after. My mornings up to one o'clock were employed in wood-carving, and all the afternoon I modelled. In this way I went on for some time, and the statue was fairly well advanced, but I required a little more money. The want of this made me rather doubtful whether I should be able to finish the model in time for the exhibition in September. I required thirty or forty pauls a-month for five months in order to go on until September. By the advice of Signor Antonio Sferra, a publisher of prints, I made a petition, to which Professor Cavaliere Pietro Benvenuti, Aristodemo Costoli, Giuseppe Sabatelli, and Emilio Santarelli were kind enough to append their names. This petition, which I now have under my eye, and which I copy literally, was as follows. It was not dictated or written by me. My friend Giuseppe Saltini, now Government Physician at Scrofiano, did me this favour:—
"Illustrissimi Signori,—The undersigned being desirous to submit to the judgment of the public a work of sculpture at the exhibition of the Academy of Fine Arts during the current year, has begun to model for his studio a figure, of life size, representing a Dying Abel. Family circumstances have, however, deprived him of the means which were required to bring this work to a conclusion. Regretting to find his money and labour spent thus far to no purpose, he refers himself to the philanthropy of his countrymen, in the hope that they will lend him their assistance. The sum required he has calculated at only forty francs a-month until the time of the said exhibition.
SUBSCRIPTIONS.
"He begs to inform all those persons who will kindly lend him their aid and honour him with a visit, that the statue which he has begun is at his studio, opposite the Church of S. Simone, where the undersigned will be glad to express to them his gratitude, and where the undersigned professors, in attestation of their goodwill, have not disdained to honour him with their approbation.—He subscribes himself as their most devoted and obliged servant,
"GIOVANNI DUPRÈ.
"Studio, 15th April 1842.