The Adventures of Enea, Part 12 of 13

Paint and Plaster So what, in essence, is this thing called paint? A coloured liquid which, applied to plaster, will fuse and forge a thing securer, faster, and far more comely than before. How quaint! Attaching thought to walls is not restraint, not loss. It dries, and then the thought feels vaster! And plaster’s porous, not like alabaster, and so it’s fixed. The link twixt tint and taint! It’s nice to think that Piccolomini fought back tears of pride, the frescoes having stirred sublime emotions: positively purred to see his forebear honoured in this sort. Alas, too soon he was, himself, interred. And thus our high ambitions come to nought.