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Bartholomeus van der Helst Woman with a Book 1665 oil on canvas Musée Magnin, Dijon |
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Anonymous Spanish Artist Still Life with Books ca. 1630-40 oil on canvas Gemäldegalerie, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin |
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Vincenzo Catena Portrait of a Man with a Book ca. 1520 oil on panel Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna |
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Correggio (Antonio Allegri) Prophet with a Book ca. 1523 drawing Städel Museum, Frankfurt |
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Giovanni Bellini St Jerome reading in a Landscape ca. 1480-85 oil on panel National Gallery, London |
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Jan Davidsz de Heem Vanitas Still Life with Skull and Books ca. 1650 oil on panel Musée des Beaux-Arts de Rouen |
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Henri Matisse Woman Reading 1898 oil on canvas Musée des Beaux-Arts de Reims |
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Anders Zorn Model Reading 1910 etching Art Institute of Chicago |
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Bjarne Ness Model Reading 1926 drawing Nasjonalmuseet, Oslo |
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Pietro Rotari Young Woman reading a Letter ca. 1753-55 oil on canvas Gemäldegalerie Alte Meister, Dresden |
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Anonymous Dutch Artist Vanitas Still Life with Books 1633 oil on panel Rijksmuseum, Amsterdam |
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Anonymous Dutch Artist Abraham de Lairesse reading ca. 1690-1700 drawing Hamburger Kunsthalle |
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Signe Scheel Reading Girl 1892 oil on canvas Nordnorsk Kunstmuseum, Tromsø |
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Ferdinand Bol Man with a Book 1644 oil on canvas Leiden Collection, New York |
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Oluf Wold-Torne Lydia Reading 1914 oil on canvas Lillehammer Kunstmuseum, Norway |
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Paul Signac Still Life with Book and Oranges 1883 oil on canvas Alte Nationalgalerie, Staatliche Museen zu Berlin |
As she was thus in passion mixt with paine, throwing her eies as wildly as timerous Lovers do for feare of discoverie, she perceived a little Light, and such a one, as a chinke doth oft discover to our sights. She curious to see what this was, with her delicate hands put the naturall ornament aside, discerning a little doore, which she putting from her, passed through it into another roome, like the first in all proportions, but in the midst there was a square stone, like to a prettie table, and on it a wax-candle burning; and by that a paper, which had suffered it selfe patiently to receive the discovering of so much of it, as presented this Sonnet (as it seemed newly written) to her sight.
Here all alone in silence might I mourne:
But how can silence be where sorrowes flow?
But how can silence be where sorrowes flow?
Sighs with complaints have poorer paines out-worne;
But broken hearts can only true griefe show.
Drops of my dearest bloud shall let Love know
Such teares for her I shed, yet still do burne,
As no spring can quench least part of my woe,
Till this live earth, againe to earth doe turne.
Hatefull all thought of comfort is to me,
As no spring can quench least part of my woe,
Till this live earth, againe to earth doe turne.
Hatefull all thought of comfort is to me,
Despised days, let me still night possesse;
Let me all torments feele in their excesse,
And but this light allow my state to see.
Which still doth wast, and wasting as this light,
Are my sad dayes unto eternall night.
"Alas, Urania!" sigh'd she. "How well doe these words, this place, and all agree with thy fortune? sure poore soule thou wert heere appointed to spend thy daies, and these roomes ordain'd to keepe thy tortures in; none being assuredly so matchlesly unfortunate."
– from The Countesse of Mountgomeries Urania, by the right honourable the Lady Mary Wroath, daughter to the right noble Robert, Earle of Leicester, and neece to the ever famous and renowned Sʳ Phillips Sidney knight, and to ye most excellant Lady Mary Countess of Pembroke, late deceased (London: John Marriott and John Grismand, 1621)