Though this fine figure generally goes by the name of the fighting Gladiator, some antiquarians cannot allow, that ever it was intended to represent a person of that profession, but a Victor at the Olympic games; and allege, that Agasias of Ephesus, the sculptor’s name, being inscribed upon the pedestal, supports their opinion, because the Greeks never used gladiators. But I fear this argument has little weight; for the Greek slaves at Rome put their name to their work; and the free Greek artists, working in Greece, in public works, found difficulty in obtaining the same indulgence. Those who wish to rescue this statue from the ignoble condition of a common Gladiator, say further, that he looks up as if his adversary were on horseback, adding, that gladiators never fought on foot against horsemen on the Arena. Here again, I am afraid, they are mistaken. He looks no higher than the eye of an enemy on foot; the head must have a much greater degree of elevation to look up to the eye of an horseman, which is the part of your adversary which you always fix.
Some learned gentlemen, not satisfied that this statue should be thrown indiscriminately among Gladiators and Victors of the Olympic games, have given it a particular and lasting character; they roundly assert, that it is the identical statue, made by order of the Athenian State, in honour of their countryman Chabrias; and that it is precisely in the attitude which, according to Cornelius Nepos, that hero assumed, when he repulsed the army of Agesilaus. This idea is in the true spirit of an antiquary.
If, upon turning to that author, you remain unconvinced, and are interested in the honour of the statue, I can furnish you with no presumptive proof of its original dignity, except, that the character of the face is noble and haughty, unlike that of a slave and mercenary Gladiator. And there is no rope around the neck, as the Gladiator Moriens has, whom that circumstance sufficiently indicates to have been in that unfortunate situation.
LETTER XLVI.
Rome.
A few days since I went to call on an artist of my acquaintance. I met, coming out of his door, an old woman, and a very handsome girl, remarkably well shaped. I rallied him a little on the subject of his visitors, and his good fortune in being attended in a morning by the prettiest girl I had seen since I came to Rome. “I think myself fortunate,” said he, “in having found a girl so perfectly well made, who allows me to study her charms without restraint, and at a reasonable price; but I assure you, I can boast of no other kind of good fortune with her.” “I am convinced,” rejoined I, “that you take great pleasure in your studies, and there can be no doubt that you have made a very desirable progress.” “Of that you shall be the judge,” replied he, leading me into another room, where I saw a full length painting of the girl, in the character of Venus, and in the usual dress of that goddess. “There,” said he, “is the only effect my studies have had hitherto, and I begin to suspect that they will never produce any thing more nearly connected with the original.” He then informed me, that the old woman I had seen was the girl’s mother, who never failed to accompany her daughter, when she came as a model to him; that the father was a tradesman, with a numerous family, who thought this the most innocent use that his daughter’s beauty could be put to, till she should get a husband; and to prevent its being put to any other, his wife always accompanied her. “I have drawn her as Venus,” added he; “but, for any thing I know to the contrary, I should have approached nearer to her real character if I had painted her as Diana. She comes here merely in obedience to her parents, and gains her bread as innocently as if she were knitting purses in a convent from morning to night, without seeing the face of a man.”
“However innocent all this may be,” said I, “there is something at which the mind revolts, in a mother’s being present when her daughter acts a part which, if not criminal, is, at least, highly indelicate.”
“To be sure,” replied the painter, “the woman has not quite so much delicacy as to starve, rather than let her daughter stand as a model; yet she seems to have attention to the girl’s chastity, too.”