Anonymous Drawing

A delicate young Negro stands

With the reins of a horse clutched loosely in his hands;

So delicate, indeed, that we wonder if he can hold the spirited creature

beside him

Until the master shall arrive to ride him.

Already the animal's nostrils widen with rage or fear.

But if we imagine him snorting, about to rear,

This boy, who should know about such things better than we,

Only stands smiling, passive and ornamental, in a fantastic livery

Of ruffles and puffed breeches,

Watching the artist, apparently, as he sketches.

Meanwhile the petty lord who must have paid

For the artist's trip up from Perugia, for the horse, for the boy, for

everything here, in fact, has been delayed,

Kept too long by his steward, perhaps, discussing

Some business concerning the estate, or fussing

Over the details of his impeccable toilet

With a manservant whose opinion is that any alteration at all would spoil it.

However fast he should come hurrying now

Over this vast greensward, mopping his brow

Clear of the sweat of the fine Renaissance morning, it would be too late:

The artist will have had his revenge for being made to wait,

A revenge not only necessary but right and clever —

Simply to leave him out of the scene forever.