"What is it?" asked Claude Vignon.
"A small bronze group," replied Steinbock, "Delilah cutting off Samson's hair."
"It is difficult," remarked Vignon. "A bed——"
"On the contrary, it is exceedingly easy," replied Valerie, smiling.
"Ah ha! teach us sculpture!" said Stidmann.
"You should take madame for your subject," replied Vignon, with a keen glance at Valerie.
"Well," she went on, "this is my notion of the composition. Samson on waking finds he has no hair, like many a dandy with a false top-knot. The hero is sitting on the bed, so you need only show the foot of it, covered with hangings and drapery. There he is, like Marius among the ruins of Carthage, his arms folded, his head shaven—Napoleon at Saint-Helena—what you will! Delilah is on her knees, a good deal like Canova's Magdalen. When a hussy has ruined her man, she adores him. As I see it, the Jewess was afraid of Samson in his strength and terrors, but she must have loved him when she saw him a child again. So Delilah is bewailing her sin, she would like to give her lover his hair again. She hardly dares to look at him; but she does look, with a smile, for she reads forgiveness in Samson's weakness. Such a group as this, and one of the ferocious Judith, would epitomize woman. Virtue cuts off your head; vice only cuts off your hair. Take care of your wigs, gentlemen!"
And she left the artists quite overpowered, to sing her praises in concert with the critic.
"It is impossible to be more bewitching!" cried Stidmann.
"Oh! she is the most intelligent and desirable woman I have ever met," said Claude Vignon. "Such a combination of beauty and cleverness is so rare."