（卡尔维诺中曾提到这篇小说。这里的应该是定稿的英译本，译者不详。电子文本来自Project Gutenberg，原网址为

    tERPIECE

    By honoré De Balzac

    tO A LORD

    1845

    I--GILLEttE

    On a cold December morning in t of t, o and fro before a gateins in Paris.  up and doreet before tion of a gallant ure into tress ime, easy of access t after a sufficiently long interval of ation,  last crossed t a large room on ter Porbus ive, t sloaircase, like a gentleman but neo court, and doubtful as to ion by to a stand once more on t tairs, and again ated before raising o tesque knocker on tudio, er  er Porbus, sometime painter in ordinary to ill Mary de Medici took Rubens into favor.

    t deeply stirred by an emotion t must ts of all great artists , to ter or stand before a masterpiece. For all iments time of early blossoming, a day of generous ent gradually fades until not of  a memory, and glory is knoe and s-lived emotions, none so resemble love as tist for , as  to enter on tyrdom of er, of vague expectations and real disappointments.

    t purses; ood in ter and felt ts,  souls a c oucy roke of terious element t ry. t t t over-soon of taken for men of talent save by fools. From t of viey is tranger on taircase migo o possess timidity t artists are bound to lose in t career, even as pretty  as ts of coquetry. Self-distrust vanisriumpo triumpy is, perrust of itself.

    te ion and insignificance, t it began to look as if o penetrate into tudio of ter, to  of  fate ious; an old man came up tairca