zanoni-第5节

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was　fond　of　unfamiliar　subjects　into　which　he　introduced　airs　and

symphonies　that　excited　a　kind　of　terror　in　those　who　listened。

The　names　of　his　pieces　will　probably　suggest　their　nature。　　I

find；　for　instance；　among　his　MSS。；　these　titles：　　〃The　Feast　of

the　Harpies；〃　〃The　Witches　at　Benevento；〃　〃The　Descent　of　Orpheus

into　Hades；〃　〃The　Evil　Eye；〃　〃The　Eumenides；〃　and　many　others

that　evince　a　powerful　imagination　delighting　in　the　fearful　and

supernatural；　but　often　relieved　by　an　airy　and　delicate　fancy

with　passages　of　exquisite　grace　and　beauty。　　It　is　true　that　in

the　selection　of　his　subjects　from　ancient　fable；　Gaetano　Pisani

was　much　more　faithful　than　his　contemporaries　to　the　remote

origin　and　the　early　genius　of　Italian　Opera。



That　descendant；　however　effeminate；　of　the　ancient　union　between

Song　and　Drama；　when；　after　long　obscurity　and　dethronement；　it

regained　a　punier　sceptre；　though　a　gaudier　purple；　by　the　banks

of　the　Etrurian　Arno；　or　amidst　the　lagunes　of　Venice；　had　chosen

all　its　primary　inspirations　from　the　unfamiliar　and　classic

sources　of　heathen　legend；　and　Pisani's　〃Descent　of　Orpheus〃　was

but　a　bolder；　darker；　and　more　scientific　repetition　of　the

〃Euridice〃　which　Jacopi　Peri　set　to　music　at　the　august　nuptials

of　Henry　of　Navarre　and　Mary　of　Medicis。*　　Still；　as　I　have　said；

the　style　of　the　Neapolitan　musician　was　not　on　the　whole

pleasing　to　ears　grown　nice　and　euphuistic　in　the　more　dulcet

melodies　of　the　day；　and　faults　and　extravagances　easily

discernible；　and　often　to　appearance　wilful；　served　the　critics

for　an　excuse　for　their　distaste。　　Fortunately；　or　the　poor

musician　might　have　starved；　he　was　not　only　a　composer；　but　also

an　excellent　practical　performer；　especially　on　the　violin；　and

by　that　instrument　he　earned　a　decent　subsistence　as　one　of　the

orchestra　at　the　Great　Theatre　of　San　Carlo。　　Here　formal　and

appointed　tasks　necessarily　kept　his　eccentric　fancies　in

tolerable　check；　though　it　is　recorded　that　no　less　than　five

times　he　had　been　deposed　from　his　desk　for　having　shocked　the

conoscenti；　and　thrown　the　whole　band　into　confusion；　by

impromptu　variations　of　so　frantic　and　startling　a　nature　that

one　might　well　have　imagined　that　the　harpies　or　witches　who

inspired　his　compositions　had　clawed　hold　of　his　instrument。



The　impossibility；　however；　to　find　any　one　of　equal　excellence

as　a　performer　（that　is　to　say；　in　his　more　lucid　and　orderly

moments）　had　forced　his　reinstalment；　and　he　had　now；　for　the

most　part；　reconciled　himself　to　the　narrow　sphere　of　his

appointed　adagios　or　allegros。　　The　audience；　too；　aware　of　his

propensity；　were　quick　to　perceive　the　least　deviation　from　the

text；　and　if　he　wandered　for　a　moment；　which　might　also　be

detected　by　the　eye　as　well　as　the　ear；　in　some　strange

contortion　of　visage；　and　some　ominous　flourish　of　his　bow；　a

gentle　and　admonitory　murmur　recalled　the　musician　from　his

Elysium　or　his　Tartarus　to　the　sober　regions　of　his　desk。　　Then

he　would　start　as　if　from　a　dream；　cast　a　hurried；　frightened；

apologetic　glance　around；　and；　with　a　crestfallen；　humbled　air；

draw　his　rebellious　instrument　back　to　the　beaten　track　of　the

glib　monotony。　　But　at　home　he　would　make　himself　amends　for　this

reluctant　drudgery。　　And　there；　grasping　the　unhappy　violin　with

ferocious　fingers；　he　would　pour　forth；　often　till　the　morning

rose；　strange；　wild　measures　that　would　startle　the　early

fisherman　on　the　shore　below　with　a　superstitious　awe；　and　make

him　cross　himself　as　if　mermaid　or　sprite　had　wailed　no　earthly

music　in　his　ear。



（*Orpheus　was　the　favourite　hero　of　early　Italian　Opera；　or

Lyrical　Drama。　　The　Orfeo　of　Angelo　Politiano　was　produced　in

1475。　　The　Orfeo　of　Monteverde　was　performed　at　Venice　in　1667。）



This　man's　appearance　was　in　keeping　with　the　characteristics　of

his　art。　　The　features　were　noble　and　striking；　but　worn　and

haggard；　with　black；　careless　locks　tangled　into　a　maze　of　curls；

and　a　fixed；　speculative；　dreamy　stare　in　his　large　and　hollow

eyes。　　All　his　movements　were　peculiar；　sudden；　and　abrupt；　as

the　impulse　seized　him；　and　in　gliding　through　the　streets；　or

along　the　beach；　he　was　heard　laughing　and　talking　to　himself。

Withal；　he　was　a　harmless；　guileless；　gentle　creature；　and　would

share　his　mite　with　any　idle　lazzaroni；　whom　he　often　paused　to

contemplate　as　they　lay　lazily　basking　in　the　sun。　　Yet　was　he

thoroughly　unsocial。　　He　formed　no　friends；　flattered　no　patrons；

resorted　to　none　of　the　merry…makings　so　dear　to　the　children　of

music　and　the　South。　　He　and　his　art　seemed　alone　suited　to　each

other；both　quaint；　primitive；　unworldly；　irregular。　　You　could

not　separate　the　man　from　his　music；　it　was　himself。　　Without　it

he　was　nothing；　a　mere　machine！　　WITH　it；　he　was　king　over　worlds

of　his　own。　　Poor　man；　he　had　little　enough　in　this！　　At　a

manufacturing　town　in　England　there　is　a　gravestone　on　which　the

epitaph　records　〃one　Claudius　Phillips；　whose　absolute　contempt

for　riches；　and　inimitable　performance　on　the　violin；　made　him

the　admiration　of　all　that　knew　him！〃　　Logical　conjunction　of

opposite　eulogies！　　In　proportion；　O　Genius；　to　thy　contempt　for

riches　will　be　thy　performance　on　thy　violin！



Gaetano　Pisani's　talents　as　a　composer　had　been　chiefly　exhibited

in　music　appropriate　to　this　his　favourite　instrument；　of　all

unquestionably　the　most　various　and　royal　in　its　resources　and

power　over　the　passions。　　As　Shakespeare　among　poets　is　the

Cremona　among　instruments。　　Nevertheless；　he　had　composed　other

pieces　of　larger　ambition　and　wider　accomplishment；　and　chief　of

these；　his　precious；　his　unpurchased；　his　unpublished；　his

unpublishable　and　imperishable　opera　of　the　〃Siren。〃　　This　great

work　had　been　the　dream　of　his　boyhood；　the　mistress　of　his

manhood；　in　advancing　age　〃it　stood　beside　him　like　his　youth。〃

Vainly　had　he　struggled　to　place　it　before　the　world。　　Even

bland；　unjealous　Paisiello；　Maestro　di　Capella；　shook　his　gentle

head　when　the　musician　favoured　him　with　a　specimen　of　one　of　his

most　thrilling　scenas。　　And　yet；　Paisiello；　though　that　music

differs　from　all　Durante　taught　thee　to　emulate；　there　maybut

patience；　Gaetano　Pisani！　bide　thy　time；　and　keep　thy　violin　in

tune！



Strange　as　it　may　appear　to　the　fairer　reader；　this　grotesque

personage　had　yet　formed　those　ties　which　ordinary　mortals　are

apt　to　consider　their　especial　monopoly；he　was　married；　and　had

one　child。　　What　is　more　strange　yet；　his　wife　was　a　daughter　of

quiet；　sober；　unfantastic　England：　　she　was　much　younger　than

himself；　she　was　fair　and　gentle；　with　a　sweet　English　face；　she

had　married　him　from　choice；　and　（will　you　believe　it？）　she　yet

loved　him。　　How　she　came　to　marry　him；　or　how　this　shy；　unsocial；

wayward　creature　ever　ventured　to　propose；　I　can　only　explain　by

asking　you　to　look　round　and　explain　first　to　ME　how　half　the

husbands　and　half　the　wives　you　meet　ever　found　a　mate！　　Yet；　on

reflection；　this　union　was　not　so　extraordinary　after　all。　　The

girl　was　a　natural　child　of　parents　too　noble　ever　to　own　and

claim　her。　　She　was　brought　into　Italy　to　learn　the　art　by　which

she　was　to　live；　for　she　had　taste　and　voice；　she　was　a　dependant

and　harshly　treated；　and　poor　Pisani　was　her　master；　and　his

voice　the　only　one　she　had　heard　from　her　cradle　that　seemed

without　one　tone　that　could　scorn　or　chide。　　And　sowell；　is　the

rest　natural？　　Natural　or　not；　they　married。　　This　young　wife

loved　her　husband；　and　young　and　gentle　as　she　was；　she　might

almost　be　said　to　be　the　protector　of　the　two。　　From　how　many

disgraces　with　the　despots　of　San　Carlo　and　the　Conservatorio　had

her　unknown　officious　mediation　saved　him！　　In　how　many　ailments

for　his　frame　was　weakhad　she　nursed　and　tended　him！　　Often；

in　the　dark　nights；　she　would　wait　at　the　theatre　with　her

lantern　to　light　him　and　her　steady　arm　to　lean　on；　otherwise；　in

his　abstract　reveries；　who　knows　but　the　musician　would　have

walked　after　his　〃Siren〃　into　the　sea！　　And　then　she　would　so

patiently；　perhaps　（for　in　true　love　there　is　not　always　the

finest　taste）　so　DELIGHTEDLY；　listen　to　those　storms　of　eccentric

and　fitful　melody；　and　steal　himwhispering　praises　all　the　way

from　the　unwholesome　night…watch　to　rest　and　sleep！



I　said　his　music　was　a　part　of　the　man；　and　this　gentle　creature

seemed　a　part　of　the　music；　it　was；　in　fact；　when　she　sat　beside

him　that　whatever　was　tender　or　fairy…like　in　his　motley　fantasia

crept　into　the　harmony　as　by　stealth。　　Doubtless　her　presence

acted　on　the　music；　and　shaped　and　softened　it；　but；　he；　who

never　examined　how　or　what　his　inspiration；　knew　it　not。　　All

that　he　knew　was；　that　he　loved　and　blessed　her。　　He　fancied　he

told　her　so　twenty　times　a　day；　but　he　never　did；　for　he　was　not

of　many　words；　even　to　his　wife。　　His　language　was　his　music；as

hers；　her　cares！　　He　was　more　communicative　to　h