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迪文小说>我的名字叫红怎么样 > 第16部分(第2页)

第16部分(第2页)

in  love  with  Shirin。  One  night;  entering  their  bedchamber  through  the

window;  Shiruye  swiftly  sinks  his  dagger  into  his  father’s  chest。  When  the

Sultan saw his son’s depiction of this scene; he was overe with the sense

that  the  painting  embodied  some  flaw;  he’d  seen  the  signature;  but  wasn’t

consciously aware of it; and he simply reacted to the picture with the thought;

”This painting bears a flaw。“ And since one would never expect any such thing

from the old masters; the Sultan was seized by a kind of panic; suspecting that

this volume he was reading recounted not a story or a legend; but what was

most  unbefitting  a  book:  reality  itself。  When  the  elderly  man  sensed  this;  he

was  overe  with  terror。  His  illustrator  son  had  entered  through  the

window;  as  in  the  painting;  and  without  even  looking  twice  at  his  father’s

bulging  eyes;  swiftly  drove  his  dagger—as  large  as  the  one  in  the  painting—

into his father’s chest。

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DJIM

In  his  History;  Rashiduddin  of  Kazvin  merrily  writes  that  250  years  ago  in

Kazvin;  manuscript  illumination;  calligraphy  and  illustration  were  the  most

esteemed and beloved arts。 The reigning Shah in Kazvin at that time ruled over

forty countries from Byzantium to China—perhaps the love of book arts was

the secret of this great power—but alas; he had no male heir。 To prevent the

lands he’d conquered from being divided up after his death; the Shah decided

to  find  a  bright  miniaturist  husband  for  his  beautiful  daughter;  and  toward

this end; arranged a petition among the three great young masters of his

atelier;  all  of  whom  were  bachelors。  According  to  Rashiduddin’s  History;  the

object   of   the   petition   was   very   simple:   Whoever   made   the   most

remarkable painting would be the victor! Like Rashiduddin himself; the young

miniaturists knew that this meant painting in the manner of the old masters;

and thus; each of the three made a rendition of the most widely liked scene: In

a  garden  reminiscent  of  Heaven  itself;  a  young  and  beautiful  maiden  stood

amid  cypress  and  cedar  trees;  among  timid  rabbits  and  anxious  swallows;

immersed  in  lovelorn  grief;  staring  at  the  ground。  Unknowingly;  the  three

miniaturists  had  rendered  the  same  scene  exactly  as  the  old  masters  would

have;  yet;  the  one  who  wanted  to  distinguish  himself  and  thereby  take

responsibility  for  the  painting’s  beauty  had  hidden  his  signature  among  the

narcissus flowers in the most secluded spot in the garden。 And on account of

this  brazen  act;  by  which  the  artist  broke  with  the  humility  of  the  old

virtuosos;  he  was  immediately  exiled  from  Kazvin  to  China。  Thus;  the

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