good old uncle of mine; pray give me your opinion of it.
Ant. It appears—it is very charming. It is —that is, I suppose, it is very finely painted.
Liv. It is reckoned so: and it certainly does more than justice to the original. (Ant. hesitates as if he would speak, but remains silent.) You are of my opinion, I perceive, or at least too well bred to contradict me. Confess it freely; you are of my opinion.
Ant. O entirely, Madam.
Liv. You flatter me exceedingly.
Ant. I meant it in simple sincerity.
Liv. O, sincere enough I doubt not.
Vald. And surely you will not question its simplicity.
Liv. (to Vald., turning from Ant. with pity and contempt) Don't let us be too hard upon him. Pray look at that picture of my great aunt, who was a celebrated beauty.
Vald. (gazing with affected admiration at Livia's picture.) I have no eyes for any other beauty than what I now gaze upon.
Liv. And do you indeed admire this picture so much?
Vald. The faintest resemblance of its fair original is fascinating. Yet, methinks, the painter should have represented it as looking on some other object than the spectator.
Liv. Why so?
Vald. The direct thrilling glance, from eyes of such vivid expression, cannot possibly be imitated, and ought not to have been attempted.
