RIBERA'S DISCOVERY OF THE PHILOSOPHER'S STONE.
Ribera seems to have been a man of considerable social talent, lively in conversation, and dealing in playful wit and amusing sarcasm. Dominici relates that two Spanish officers, visiting at his house one day, entered upon a serious discussion on the subject of alchemy. The host, finding their talk some what tedious, gravely informed them that he him self happened to be in possession of the philosopher's stone, and that they might, if they pleased, see his way of using it, the next morning at his studio. The military adepts were punctual to their appointment, and found their friend at work, not in a mysterious laboratory, but at his easel, on a half-length picture of St. Jerome. Entreating them to restrain their eagerness, he painted steadily on, finished his picture, sent it out by his servant, and received a small rouleau in return. This he broke open in the presence of his visitors, and throwing ten gold doubloons on the table, said, "Learn of me how gold is to be made; I do it by painting, you by serving his majesty—diligence in business is the only true alchemy." The officers departed somewhat crest-fallen, neither relishing the jest, nor likely to reap any benefit from it.
RIBERA'S SUBJECTS.
His subjects are generally austere, representing anchorets, prophets, apostles, &c., and frequently of the most revolting character, such as sanguinary executions, martyrdoms, horrid punishments, and lingering torments, which he represented with a startling fidelity that intimidates and shocks the beholder. His paintings are very numerous, and his drawings and etchings are highly esteemed by connoisseurs.
RIBERA'S DISPOSITION.
The talents of this great painter, seem to have been obscured by a cruel and revengeful disposition, partaking of the character of his works. He was one of the triumvirate of painters, who assassinated, persecuted, or drove every talented foreign painter from Naples, that they might monopolize the business. He was also a reckless libertine, and, according to Dominici, having seduced a beautiful girl, he was seized with such remorse for his many crimes, as to become insupportable to himself; and to escape the general odium which was heaped upon him, he fled from Naples on board a ship, and was never heard of more. This story however is doubtless colored, for, according to Palomino and several other writers, Ribera died at Naples in 1656. See page [132] of this volume.