massimilla doni-第14章

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archangels　leaning　on　the　flaming　swords　with　which　they　have
vanquished　the　heathen？

〃The　secret　of　this　music　and　its　refreshing　effect　on　the　soul　is；　I
believe；　that　of　a　very　few　works　of　human　genius：　it　carries　us　for
the　moment　into　the　infinite；　we　feel　it　within　us；　we　see　it；　in
those　melodies　as　boundless　as　the　hymns　sung　round　the　throne　of　God。
Rossini's　genius　carries　us　up　to　prodigious　heights；　whence　we　look
down　on　a　promised　land；　and　our　eyes；　charmed　by　heavenly　light；　gaze
into　limitless　space。　Elcia's　last　strain；　having　almost　recovered
from　her　grief；　brings　a　feeling　of　earth…born　passions　into　this　hymn
of　thanksgiving。　This；　again；　is　a　touch　of　genius。

〃Ay；　sing！〃　exclaimed　the　Duchess；　as　she　listened　to　the　last　stanza
with　the　same　gloomy　enthusiasm　as　the　singers　threw　into　it。　〃Sing！
You　are　free！〃

The　words　were　spoken　in　a　voice　that　startled　the　physician。　To
divert　Massimilla　from　her　bitter　reflections；　while　the　excitement　of
recalling　la　Tinti　was　at　its　height；　he　engaged　her　in　one　of　the
arguments　in　which　the　French　excel。

〃Madame；〃　said　he；　〃in　explaining　this　grand　workwhich　I　shall　come
to　hear　again　to…morrow　with　a　fuller　comprehension；　thanks　to　you；　of
its　structure　and　its　effectyou　have　frequently　spoken　of　the　color
of　the　music；　and　of　the　ideas　it　depicts；　now　I；　as　an　analyst；　a
materialist；　must　confess　that　I　have　always　rebelled　against　the
affectation　of　certain　enthusiasts；　who　try　to　make　us　believe　that
music　paints　with　tones。　Would　it　not　be　the　same　thing　if　Raphael's
admirers　spoke　of　his　singing　with　colors？〃

〃In　the　language　of　musicians；〃　replied　the　Duchess；　〃/painting/　is
arousing　certain　associations　in　our　souls；　or　certain　images　in　our
brain；　and　these　memories　and　images　have　a　color　of　their　own；　they
are　sad　or　cheerful。　You　are　battling　for　a　word；　that　is　all。
According　to　Capraja；　each　instrument　has　its　task；　its　mission；　and
appeals　to　certain　feelings　in　our　souls。　Does　a　pattern　in　gold　on　a
blue　ground　produce　the　same　sensations　in　you　as　a　red　pattern　on
black　or　green？　In　these；　as　in　music；　there　are　no　figures；　no
expression　of　feeling；　they　are　purely　artistic；　and　yet　no　one　looks
at　them　with　indifference。　Has　not　the　oboe　the　peculiar　tone　that　we
associate　with　the　open　country；　in　common　with　most　wind　instruments？
The　brass　suggests　martial　ideas；　and　rouses　us　to　vehement　or　even
somewhat　furious　feelings。　The　strings；　for　which　the　material　is
derived　from　the　organic　world；　seem　to　appeal　to　the　subtlest　fibres
of　our　nature；　they　go　to　the　very　depths　of　the　heart。　When　I　spoke
of　the　gloomy　hue；　and　the　coldness　of　the　tones　in　the　introduction
to　/Mose/；　was　I　not　fully　as　much　justified　as　your　critics　are　when
they　speak　of　the　'color'　in　a　writer's　language？　Do　you　not
acknowledge　that　there　is　a　nervous　style；　a　pallid　style；　a　lively；
and　a　highly…colored　style？　Art　can　paint　with　words；　sounds；　colors；
lines；　form；　the　means　are　many；　the　result　is　one。

〃An　Italian　architect　might　give　us　the　same　sensation　that　is
produced　in　us　by　the　introduction　to　/Mose/；　by　constructing　a　walk
through　dark；　damp　avenues　of　tall；　thick　trees；　and　bringing　us　out
suddenly　in　a　valley　full　of　streams；　flowers；　and　mills；　and　basking
in　the　sunshine。　In　their　greatest　moments　the　arts　are　but　the
expression　of　the　grand　scenes　of　nature。

〃I　am　not　learned　enough　to　enlarge　on　the　philosophy　of　music；　go　and
talk　to　Capraja；　you　will　be　amazed　at　what　he　can　tell　you。　He　will
say　that　every　instrument　that　depends　on　the　touch　or　breath　of　man
for　its　expression　and　length　of　note；　is　superior　as　a　vehicle　of
expression　to　color；　which　remains　fixed；　or　speech；　which　has　its
limits。　The　language　of　music　is　infinite；　it　includes　everything；　it
can　express　all　things。

〃Now　do　you　see　wherein　lies　the　pre…eminence　of　the　work　you　have
just　heard？　I　can　explain　it　in　a　few　words。　There　are　two　kinds　of
music：　one；　petty；　poor；　second…rate；　always　the　same；　based　on　a
hundred　or　so　of　phrases　which　every　musician　has　at　his　command；　a
more　or　less　agreeable　form　of　babble　which　most　composers　live　in。　We
listen　to　their　strains；　their　would…be　melodies；　with　more　or　less
satisfaction；　but　absolutely　nothing　is　left　in　our　mind；　by　the　end
of　the　century　they　are　forgotten。　But　the　nations；　from　the　beginning
of　time　till　our　own　day；　have　cherished　as　a　precious　treasure
certain　strains　which　epitomize　their　instincts　and　habits；　I　might
almost　say　their　history。　Listen　to　one　of　these　primitive　tones；the
Gregorian　chant；　for　instance；　is；　in　sacred　song；　the　inheritance　of
the　earliest　peoples；and　you　will　lose　yourself　in　deep　dreaming。
Strange　and　immense　conceptions　will　unfold　within　you；　in　spite　of
the　extreme　simplicity　of　these　rudimentary　relics。　And　once　or　twice
in　a　centurynot　oftener；　there　arises　a　Homer　of　music；　to　whom　God
grants　the　gift　of　being　ahead　of　his　age；　men　who　can　compact
melodies　full　of　accomplished　facts；　pregnant　with　mighty　poetry。
Think　of　this；　remember　it。　The　thought；　repeated　by　you；　will　prove
fruitful；　it　is　melody；　not　harmony；　that　can　survive　the　shocks　of
time。

〃The　music　of　this　oratorio　contains　a　whole　world　of　great　and　sacred
things。　A　work　which　begins　with　that　introduction　and　ends　with　that
prayer　is　immortalas　immortal　as　the　Easter　hymn；　/O　filii　et
filioe/；　as　the　/Dies　iroe/　of　the　dead；　as　all　the　songs　which　in
every　land　have　outlived　its　splendor；　its　happiness；　and　its　ruined
prosperity。〃

The　tears　the　Duchess　wiped　away　as　she　quitted　her　box　showed　plainly
that　she　was　thinking　of　the　Venice　that　is　no　more；　and　Vendramin
kissed　her　hand。

The　performance　ended　with　the　most　extraordinary　chaos　of　noises：
abuse　and　hisses　hurled　at　Genovese　and　a　fit　of　frenzy　in　praise　of
la　Tinti。　It　was　a　long　time　since　the　Venetians　had　had　so　lively　an
evening。　They　were　warmed　and　revived　by　that　antagonism　which　is
never　lacking　in　Italy；　where　the　smallest　towns　always　throve　on　the
antagonistic　interests　of　two　factions：　the　Geulphs　and　Ghibellines
everywhere；　the　Capulets　and　the　Montagues　at　Verona；　the　Geremei　and
the　Lomelli　at　Bologna；　the　Fieschi　and　the　Doria　at　Genoa；　the
patricians　and　the　populace；　the　Senate　and　tribunes　of　the　Roman
republic；　the　Pazzi　and　the　Medici　at　Florence；　the　Sforza　and　the
Visconti　at　Milan；　the　Orsini　and　the　Colonna　at　Rome；in　short；
everywhere　and　on　every　occasion　there　has　been　the　same　impulse

Out　in　the　streets　there　were　already　/Genovists/　and　/Tintists/。

The　Prince　escorted　the　Duchess；　more　depressed　than　ever　by　the　loves
of　Osiride；　she　feared　some　similar　disaster　to　her　own；　and　could
only　cling　to　Emilio；　as　if　to　keep　him　next　her　heart。

〃Remember　your　promise；〃　said　Vendramin。　〃I　will　wait　for　you　in　the
square。〃



Vendramin　took　the　Frenchman's　arm；　proposing　that　they　should　walk
together　on　the　Piazza　San　Marco　while　awaiting　the　Prince。

〃I　shall　be　only　too　glad　if　he　should　not　come；〃　he　added。

This　was　the　text　for　a　conversation　between　the　two；　Vendramin
regarding　it　as　a　favorable　opportunity　for　consulting　the　physician；
and　telling　him　the　singular　position　Emilio　had　placed　himself　in。

The　Frenchman　did　as　every　Frenchman　does　on　all　occasions：　he
laughed。　Vendramin；　who　took　the　matter　very　seriously；　was　angry；　but
he　was　mollified　when　the　disciple　of　Majendie；　of　Cuvier；　of
Dupuytren；　and　of　Brossais　assured　him　that　he　believed　he　could　cure
the　Prince　of　his　high…flown　raptures；　and　dispel　the　heavenly　poetry
in　which　he　shrouded　Massimilla　as　in　a　cloud。

〃A　happy　form　of　misfortune！〃　said　he。　〃The　ancients；　who　were　not
such　fools　as　might　be　inferred　from　their　crystal　heaven　and　their
ideas　on　physics；　symbolized　in　the　fable　of　Ixion　the　power　which
nullifies　the　body　and　makes　the　spirit　lord　of　all。〃

Vendramin　and　the　doctor　presently　met　Genovese；　and　with　him　the
fantastic　Capraja。　The　melomaniac　was　anxious　to　learn　the　real　cause
of　the　tenor's　/fiasco/。　Genovese；　the　question　being　put　to　him；
talked　fast；　like　all　men　who　can　intoxicate　themselves　by　the
ebullition　of　ideas　suggested　to　them　by　a　passion。

〃Yes；　signori；　I　love　her；　I　worship　her　with　a　frenzy　of　which　I
never　believed　myself　capable；　now　that　I　am　tired　of　women。　Women
play　the　mischief　with　art。　Pleasure　and　work　cannot　be　carried　on
together。　Clara　fancies　that　I　was　jealous　of　her　success；　that　I
wanted　to　hinder　her　triumph　at　Venice；　but　I　was　clapping　in　the
side…scenes；　and　shouted　/Diva/　louder　than　any　one　in　the　house。〃

〃But　even　that；〃　said　Cataneo；　joining　them；　〃does　not　explain　why；
from　being　a　divine　singer；　you　should　have　become　one　of　the　most
execrable　performers　who　ever　piped　air　through　his　larynx；　giving
none　of　the　charm　even　which　enchants　and　bewitches　us。〃

〃I！〃　said　the　singer。　〃I　a　bad　singer！　I　who　am　the　equal　of　the
greatest　performers！〃

By　this　time；　the　doctor　and　Vendramin；　Capraja；　Cataneo；　and　Genovese
had　made　their　way　to　the　piazzetta。　It　was　midnight。　The　glittering
bay；　outlined　by　the　churches　of　San　Giorgio　and　San　Paulo　at　the　end
of　the　Giudecca；　and　the　beginning　of　the　Grand　Canal；　that　opens　so
mysteriously　under　the　/Dogana/　and　the　church　of　Santa　Maria　della
Salute；　lay　glorious　and　still。　The　moon　shone　on　the　barques　along
the　Riva　de'　Schiavoni。　The　waters　of　Venice；　where　there　is　no　tide；
looked　as　if　they　were　alive；　dancing　with　a　myriad　spangles。　Never
had　a　singer　a　more　splendid　stage。

Genovese；　with　an　emphatic　flourish；　seemed　to　call　Heaven　and　Earth
to　witness；　and　then；　with　no　accompaniment　but　the　lapping　waves；　he
sang　/Ombra　adorata/；　Crescentini's　great　air。　The　song；　rising　up
between　the　statues　of　San　Teodoro　and　San　Giorgio；　in　the　heart　of
sleeping　Venice　lighted　by　the　moon；　the　words；　in　such　strange
harmony　with　the　scene；　and　the　melancholy　passion　of　the　singer；　held
the　Italians　and　the　Frenchman　spellbound。

At　the　very　first　notes；　Vendramin's　face　was　wet　with　tears。　Capraja
stood　as　motionless　as　one　of　the　statues　in　the　ducal　palace。　Cataneo
seemed　moved　to　some　feeling。　The　Frenchman；　taken　by　surprise；　was
meditative；　like　a　man　of　science　in　the　presence　of　a　phenomenon　that
upsets　all　his　fundamental　axioms。　These　four　minds；　all　so　different；
whose　hopes　were　so　small；　who　believed　in　nothing　for　themselves　or
after　themselves；　who　regarded　their　own　existence　as　that　of　a
transient　and　a　fortuitous　being；like　the　little　life　of　a　plant　or
a　beetle；had　a　glimpse　of　Heaven。　Never　did　music　more　truly　merit
the　epithet　divine。　The　consoling　notes；　as　they　were　poured　out；
enveloped　their　souls　in　soft　and　soothing　airs。　On　these　vapors；
almost　visible；　as　it　seemed　to　the　listeners；　like　the　marble　shapes
about　them　in　the　silver　moonlight；　angels　sat　whose　wings；　devoutly
waving；　expressed　adoration　and　love。　The　simple；　artless　melody
penetrated　to　the　soul　as　with　a　beam　of　light。　It　was　a　holy　passion！

But　the　singer's　vanity　roused　them　from　their　emotion　with　a　terrible
shock。

〃Now；　am　I　a　bad　singer？〃　he　exclaimed；　as　he