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He liked the graceful and showy French manner more than any other, and in this manner he began painting a portrait of Anna in Italian costume, and to him and to everyone who saw it this portrait seemed very successful.

IX

The old, neglected palazzo, with stucco mouldings on its high ceilings and frescoes on its walls, with mosaic floors, heavy yellow damask curtains on its high windows, urns on consoles and mantelpieces, carved doors and sombre halls hung with pictures - this palazzo, once they had moved into it, by its very appearance maintained the agreeable illusion in Vronsky that he was not so much a Russian landowner, a chief equerry without a post, as an enlightened amateur and patron of the arts — and also a modest artist himself - who had renounced the world, connections, ambition for the woman he loved.

The role chosen by Vronsky with his move to the palazzo was a complete success and, having met some interesting people through Golenishchev’s mediation, he was initially at peace. Under the guidance of an Italian professor of painting, he painted sketches from nature and studied medieval Italian life. Medieval Italian life had recently become so fascinating for Vronsky that he even began wearing his hat and a wrap thrown over his shoulder in a medieval fashion, which was very becoming to him.

‘And here we live and know nothing,’ Vronsky said when Golenishchev came to see him one morning. ‘Have you seen Mikhailov’s picture?’ he asked, handing him a Russian morning newspaper and pointing to an article about a Russian painter who lived in the same town and had finished a picture of which rumours had long been going about and which had been purchased before completion. The article reproached the government and the Academy for leaving a remarkable painter without any encouragement or aid.

‘I’ve seen it,’ Golenishchev replied. ‘He is certainly not without talent, but his tendency is completely false. The same old Ivanov-Strauss-Renan 21 attitude towards Christ and religious painting.’

‘What does the picture represent?’ asked Anna.

‘Christ before Pilate. Christ is presented as a Jew with all the realism of the new school.22

And, the question about the content of the picture having led him to one of his favourite themes, Golenishchev began to expound:

‘I don’t understand how they can be so grossly mistaken. Christ found His definitive realization in the art of the old masters. Which means, if they want to portray not God but some revolutionary or wise man, they should take someone from history - Socrates, Franklin, Charlotte Corday,23 only not Christ. They take the very person who cannot be taken for art, and then ...’

‘And is it true that this Mikhailov lives in such poverty?’ asked Vronsky, thinking that he, as a Russian Maecenas, ought to help the artist regardless of whether his picture was good or bad.

‘Hardly. He’s a remarkable portraitist. Have you seen his portrait of Mme Vassilchikov? But it seems he no longer wants to paint portraits, and perhaps he really is in need. What I’m saying is...’

‘Couldn’t we ask him to paint a portrait of Anna Arkadyevna?’ said Vronsky.

‘Why of me?’ said Anna. ‘I don’t want any portrait after yours. Better of Annie’ (so she called her little girl). ‘And here she is,’ she added, looking out the window at the beautiful Italian wet nurse who had taken the child to the garden, and at once glancing surreptitiously at Vronsky. This beautiful wet nurse, from whom Vronsky had painted the head for his picture, was the only secret grief in Anna’s life. While painting her, he had admired her beauty and medievalness, and Anna did not dare admit to herself that she was afraid of being jealous of her, and therefore she especially pampered and spoiled both the woman and her little son.

Vronsky also glanced out the window and then into Anna’s eyes, and, turning at once to Golenishchev, said:

‘And do you know this Mikhailov?’

‘I’ve met him. But he’s an odd fellow