didn't know how much he ought to ask; but after a few minutes'
consideration he said, "Five hundred pounds. But, perhaps," he added
timidly, "I have said too much." "Oh no," the duke answered, "not at all
too much;" and he forthwith ordered (or, as sculptors prefer to say,
commissioned) the statue to be executed for him in marble. Gibson was
delighted, and ran over at once to tell Canova, thinking he had done a
splendid stroke of business. Canova shared his pleasure, till the young
man came to the price; then the older sculptor's face fell ominously.
"Five hundred pounds!" he cried in dismay; "why, it won't cover the cost
of marble and workmanship." And so indeed it turned out; for when the
work was finished, it had stood Gibson in L520 for marble and expenses,
and left him twenty pounds out of pocket in the end. So he got less than
nothing after all for his many months of thought and labour over clay
and marble alike.

Discouraging as this beginning must have proved, it was nevertheless in
reality the first important step in a splendid and successful career. It
is something to have sold your first statue, even if you sell it at a
disadvantage. In 1821 Gibson modelled a group of Pysche and the Zephyrs.
That winter Sir George Beaumont, himself a distinguished amateur artist,
and a great patron of art, came to Rome; and Canova sent him to see the
young Welshman's new composition. Sir George asked the price, and
Gibson, this time more cautious, asked for time to prepare an estimate,
and finally named L700. To his joy, Sir George immediately ordered it,
and also introduced many wealthy connoisseurs to the rising sculptor's
studio. That same winter, also, the Duke of Devonshire came again, and
commissioned a bas-relief in marble (which is now at Chatsworth House,
with many other of Gibson's works), at a paying price, too, which was a
great point for the young man's scanty exchequer.