The King himself, and his
friends, are safe enough at a kind of high table; though which IS
Heliogabalus (he being a consumptive-looking character in his coins
in the Classical Dictionary) your critic has not made out. The
earth having opened down below, the heads of some women, and of a
man with a beard and his hair done up like a girl, are tossing
about in a quantity of rose-leaves, which had doubtless been strown
on the floor, as Martial tells us was the custom, dum regnat rosa.
So I overheard a very erudite critic remarking. The composition of
the piece would be thus accounted for; but I cannot pretend that
Mr. Tadema reminds one of either Poussin or Annibale Carracci.
However, rumour whispers that a high price has been paid for this
curious performance. To my thinking the friends of Heliogabalus
are a little flat and leathery in the handling of the flesh. The
silver work, and the marble, will please admirers of this eccentric
artist; but I can hardly call the whole effect "High." But Mr.
Armitage's "Siren" will console people who remember the old school.
This beautiful girl (somewhat careless in her attitude, though she
has been sensible enough NOT to sit down on the damp rock without
putting her drapery beneath her) would have been a true gem in one
of the old Books of Beauty, such as the Honourable Percy Popjoy and
my old friend, Miss Bunnion, used to contribute to in the palmy
days of the English school.
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