f the pelvis a little above the hip. The weight
of his body is thrown principally upon the right leg; the left foot
is drawn back, away from the altar. It is the attitude of the Apollo
Sauroctonos. His beautiful face, bent downward, is intently gazing
with a calm, collected, serious, and yet sad cast of earnest
meditation. His eyes seem fixed on something beyond him and beneath
him--as it were on an inscrutable abyss; and in this direction also
looks his companion. The face is unmistakably the face of Antinous;
yet the figure, and especially the legs, are not characteristic.
They seem modelled after the conventional type of the Greek Ephebus.
Parts of the two torches and the lower half of the right arm of
Antinous are restorations.
Such is the Ildefonso marble; and it may be said that its execution
is hard and rough--the arms of both figures are carelessly designed;
the hands and fingers are especially angular, elongated, and
ill-formed. But there is a noble feeling in the whole group,
notwithstanding. F. Tieck, the sculptor and brother of the poet, was
the first to suggest that we have here Antinous, the Genius of
Hadrian, and Persephone.[1] He also thought that the self-immolation
of Antinous was indicated by the loving, leaning attitude of the
younger man, and by his melancholy look of resolution. The same
view, in all substantial points, is taken by Friedrichs, author of a
work on Graeco-Roman sculpture. But Friedrichs, while admitting the
identity of the younger figure with Antinous, and recognising
Persephone in the archaic image, is not prepared to accept the elder
as the Genius of Hadrian; and it must be confessed that this face
does not bear any resemblance to the portraits of the Emperor.
According to his interpretation, the Daemon is kindling the fire upon
the sacrificial altar with the depressed torch; and the second or
lifted torch must be supposed to have been needed for the
performance of some obscure rite of immolation. What Friedrichs
fails to elucidate is the trustful attitude of Antinous, who could
scarcely have been conceived as thus affectionately reclining on the
shoulder of a merely sacrificial daemon; nor is there anything upon
the altar to kindle. It must, however, be conceded that the
imperfection of the marble at this point leaves the restoration of
the altar and the torch upon it doubtful.
[1] See the article on Antinous, by Victor Rydberg, in the
_Svensk Tidskrift foer Litteratu
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