Читать книгу The Tatler (Vol. 1-4) - Joseph Addison - Страница 21

All hearts at present pant for two ladies only⁹⁶, who have for some time engrossed the dominion of the town. They are indeed both exceeding charming, but differ very much in their excellences. The beauty of Clarissa is soft, that of Chloe piercing. When you look at Clarissa, you see the most exact harmony of feature, complexion, and shape; you find in Chloe nothing extraordinary in any one of those particulars, but the whole woman irresistible. Clarissa looks languishing; Chloe, killing. Clarissa never fails of gaining admiration; Chloe, of moving desire. The gazers at Clarissa are at first unconcerned, as if they were observing a fine picture. They who behold Chloe, at the first glance, discover transport, as if they met their dearest friend. These different perfections are suitably represented by the last great painter Italy has sent us, Mr. Jervas.⁹⁷ Clarissa is, by that skilful hand, placed in a manner that looks artless, and innocent of the torments she gives; Chloe drawn with a liveliness that shows she is conscious, but not affected, of her perfections. Clarissa is a shepherdess; Chloe, a country girl. I must own, the design of Chloe's picture shows, to me, great mastery in the painter; for nothing could be better imagined than the dress he has given her, of a straw hat and riband, to represent that sort of beauty which enters the heart with a certain familiarity, and cheats it into a belief, that it has received a lover as well as an object of love. The force of their different beauties is seen also in the effects it makes on their lovers. The admirers of Chloe are eternally gay and well-pleased: those of Clarissa, melancholy and thoughtful. And as this passion always changes the natural man into a quite different creature from what he was before, the love of Chloe makes coxcombs; that of Clarissa, madmen. There were of each kind just now here. Here was one that whistles, laughs, sings, and cuts capers, for love of Chloe. Another has just now written three lines to Clarissa, then taken a turn in the garden, then came back again, then tore his fragment, then called for some chocolate, then went away without it.

Chloe has so many admirers in the room at present, that there is too much noise to proceed in my narration, so that the progress of the loves of Clarissa and Chloe, together with the bottles that are drank each night for the one, and the many sighs which are uttered, and songs written, on the other, must be our subject on future occasions.