She floats in the air, radiant, her white wings unfurled. Your first thought is that she is a guardian angel. But then other details catch your eye. A sword in one hand. An hourglass in another. And the man running away from her, too terrified to look over his shoulder.
This divine creature is Nemesis, the Greek goddess of vengeful fate. And the man fleeing from her has just killed the shadowy figure in the background. The murderer hoped that by slaying the man in a desolate spot, he would elude detection. But nothing escapes Nemesis (from the Greek rhamnousia, “to give what is due”). She is always watching, ready to strike down those who commit crimes that might otherwise go unpunished. The hourglass in her hand is telling the murderer that his time is up. Even before the blood of his victim is dry.
Other artists depicted the terrible goddess. Pierre-Paul Prud’hon painted a similar scene, but the differences between the two works is striking.
Prud’hon’s canvas is overpopulated, with the victim luridly splayed on the ground. The murderer is exposed not by the goddess (who has a feeble torch in her hand), but by the bright moonlight.
In Rethel’s version, the light emanates from the goddess herself. Her glow exposes the murderer, despite his best efforts to conceal the crime.
The power of the painting extended beyond the canvas. Legend has it that Nemesis was won in a lottery in Germany by a person of high rank. A person who committed a killing that went unpunished for years.
One look at the painting and the man went mad.
He confessed to his crime.
And who wouldn’t, with Divine Vengeance looming over your shoulder?