The Marble Faun Volume 2 - Page 64/157

Besides the two venerable structures which we have described, there were

lofty palaces, perhaps of as old a date, rising story above Story, and

adorned with balconies, whence, hundreds of years ago, the princely

occupants had been accustomed to gaze down at the sports, business, and

popular assemblages of the piazza. And, beyond all question, they thus

witnessed the erection of a bronze statue, which, three centuries since,

was placed on the pedestal that it still occupies.

"I never come to Perugia," said Kenyon, "without spending as much time

as I can spare in studying yonder statue of Pope Julius the Third. Those

sculptors of the Middle Age have fitter lessons for the professors of

my art than we can find in the Grecian masterpieces. They belong to our

Christian civilization; and, being earnest works, they always express

something which we do not get from the antique. Will you look at it?"

"Willingly," replied the Count, "for I see, even so far off, that the

statue is bestowing a benediction, and there is a feeling in my heart

that I may be permitted to share it."

Remembering the similar idea which Miriam a short time before had

expressed, the sculptor smiled hopefully at the coincidence. They made

their way through the throng of the market place, and approached close

to the iron railing that protected the pedestal of the statue.

It was the figure of a pope, arrayed in his pontifical robes, and

crowned with the tiara. He sat in a bronze chair, elevated high above

the pavement, and seemed to take kindly yet authoritative cognizance

of the busy scene which was at that moment passing before his eye. His

right hand was raised and spread abroad, as if in the act of shedding

forth a benediction, which every man--so broad, so wise, and so serenely

affectionate was the bronze pope's regard--might hope to feel quietly

descending upon the need, or the distress, that he had closest at his

heart. The statue had life and observation in it, as well as patriarchal

majesty. An imaginative spectator could not but be impressed with

the idea that this benignly awful representative of divine and human

authority might rise from his brazen chair, should any great public

exigency demand his interposition, and encourage or restrain the people

by his gesture, or even by prophetic utterances worthy of so grand a

presence.

And in the long, calm intervals, amid the quiet lapse of ages, the

pontiff watched the daily turmoil around his seat, listening with

majestic patience to the market cries, and all the petty uproar that

awoke the echoes of the stately old piazza. He was the enduring friend

of these men, and of their forefathers and children, the familiar face

of generations.

"The pope's blessing, methinks, has fallen upon you," observed the

sculptor, looking at his friend.