massimilla doni-第16节

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alone。　It　is　impossible　to　show　greater　ingenuity　of　detail；　or　to
produce　a　grander　general　effect。Dear　me！　again　an　outbreak！〃　said
the　Duchess。

Genovese；　who　had　sung　his　duet　with　Carthagenova　so　well；　was
caricaturing　himself　now　that　la　Tinti　was　on　the　stage。　From　a　great
singer　he　sank　to　the　level　of　the　most　worthless　chorus　singer。

The　most　formidable　uproar　arose　that　had　ever　echoed　to　the　roof　of
the　/Fenice/。　The　commotion　only　yielded　to　Clarina；　and　she；　furious
at　the　difficulties　raised　by　Genovese's　obstinacy；　sang　/Mi　manca　la
voce/　as　it　will　never　be　sung　again。　The　enthusiasm　was　tremendous；
the　audience　forgot　their　indignation　and　rage　in　pleasure　that　was
really　acute。

〃She　floods　my　soul　with　purple　glow！〃　said　Capraja；　waving　his　hand
in　benediction　at　la　/Diva/　Tinti。

〃Heaven　send　all　its　blessings　on　your　head！〃　cried　a　gondolier。

〃Pharaoh　will　now　revoke　his　commands；〃　said　the　Duchess；　while　the
commotion　in　the　pit　was　calming　down。　〃Moses　will　overwhelm　him；　even
on　his　throne；　by　declaring　the　death　of　every　first…born　son　in
Egypt；　singing　that　strain　of　vengeance　which　augurs　thunders　from
heaven；　while　above　it　the　Hebrew　clarions　ring　out。　But　you　must
clearly　understand　that　this　air　is　by　Pacini；　Carthagenova　introduces
it　instead　of　that　by　Rossini。　This　air；　/Paventa/；　will　no　doubt　hold
its　place　in　the　score；　it　gives　a　bass　too　good　an　opportunity　for
displaying　the　quality　of　his　voice；　and　expression　here　will　carry
the　day　rather　than　science。　However；　the　air　is　full　of　magnificent
menace；　and　it　is　possible　that　we　may　not　be　long　allowed　to　hear
it。〃

A　thunder　of　clapping　and　/bravos/　hailed　the　song；　followed　by　deep
and　cautious　silence；　nothing　could　be　more　significant　or　more
thoroughly　Venetian　than　the　outbreak　and　its　sudden　suppression。

〃I　need　say　nothing　of　the　coronation　march　announcing　the
enthronement　of　Osiride；　intended　by　the　King　as　a　challenge　to　Moses；
to　hear　it　is　enough。　Their　famous　Beethoven　has　written　nothing
grander。　And　this　march；　full　of　earthly　pomp；　contrasts　finely　with
the　march　of　the　Israelites。　Compare　them；　and　you　will　see　that　the
music　is　full　of　purpose。

〃Elcia　declares　her　love　in　the　presence　of　the　two　Hebrew　leaders；
and　then　renounces　it　in　the　fine　/aria/；　/Porge　la　destra　amata/。
（Place　your　beloved　hand。）　Ah！　What　anguish！　Only　look　at　the　house！〃

The　pit　was　shouting　/bravo/；　when　Genovese　left　the　stage。

〃Now；　free　from　her　deplorable　lover；　we　shall　hear　Tinti　sing；　/O
desolata　Elcia/the　tremendous　/cavatina/　expressive　of　love
disapproved　by　God。〃

〃Where　art　thou；　Rossini？〃　cried　Cataneo。　〃If　he　could　but　hear　the
music　created　by　his　genius　so　magnificently　performed；〃　he　went　on。
〃Is　not　Clarina　worthy　of　him？〃　he　asked　Capraja。　〃To　give　life　to
those　notes　by　such　gusts　of　flame；　starting　from　the　lungs　and
feeding　in　the　air　on　some　unknown　matter　which　our　ears　inhale；　and
which　bears　us　heavenwards　in　a　rapture　of　love；　she　must　be　divine！〃

〃She　is　like　the　gorgeous　Indian　plant；　which　deserting　the　earth
absorbs　invisible　nourishment　from　the　atmosphere；　and　sheds　from　its
spiral　white　blossom　such　fragrant　vapors　as　fill　the　brain　with
dreams；〃　replied　Capraja。

On　being　recalled；　la　Tinti　appeared　alone。　She　was　received　with　a
storm　of　applause；　a　thousand　kisses　were　blown　to　her　from　finger…
tips；　she　was　pelted　with　roses；　and　a　wreath　was　made　of　the　flowers
snatched　from　the　ladies'　caps；　almost　all　sent　out　from　Paris。

The　/cavatina/　was　encored。

〃How　eagerly　Capraja；　with　his　passion　for　embellishments；　must　have
looked　forward　to　this　air；　which　derives　all　its　value　from
execution；〃　remarked　Massimilla。　〃Here　Rossini　has；　so　to　speak；　given
the　reins　over　to　the　singer's　fancy。　Her　/cadenzas/　and　her　feeling
are　everything。　With　a　poor　voice　or　inferior　execution；　it　would　be
nothingthe　throat　is　responsible　for　the　effects　of　this　/aria/。

〃The　singer　has　to　express　the　most　intense　anguish；that　of　a　woman
who　sees　her　lover　dying　before　her　very　eyes。　La　Tinti　makes　the
house　ring　with　her　highest　notes；　and　Rossini；　to　leave　pure　singing
free　to　do　its　utmost；　has　written　it　in　the　simplest；　clearest　style。
Then；　as　a　crowning　effort；　he　has　composed　those　heartrending　musical
cries：　/Tormenti！　Affanni！　Smanie！/　What　grief；　what　anguish；　in　those
runs。　And　la　Tinti；　you　see；　has　quite　carried　the　house　off　its
feet。〃

The　Frenchman；　bewildered　by　this　adoring　admiration　throughout　a　vast
theatre　for　the　source　of　its　delight；　here　had　a　glimpse　of　genuine
Italian　nature。　But　neither　the　Duchess　nor　the　two　young　men　paid　any
attention　to　the　ovation。　Clarina　began　again。

The　Duchess　feared　that　she　was　seeing　her　Emilio　for　the　last　time。
As　to　the　Prince：　in　the　presence　of　the　Duchess；　the　sovereign
divinity　who　lifted　him　to　the　skies；　he　had　forgotten　where　he　was；
he　no　longer　heard　the　voice　of　the　woman　who　had　initiated　him　into
the　mysteries　of　earthly　pleasure；　for　deep　dejection　made　his　ears
tingle　with　a　chorus　of　plaintive　voices；　half…drowned　in　a　rushing
noise　as　of　pouring　rain。

Vendramin　saw　himself　in　an　ancient　Venetian　costume；　looking　on　at
the　ceremony　of　the　/Bucentaur/。　The　Frenchman；　who　plainly　discerned
that　some　strange　and　painful　mystery　stood　between　the　Prince　and　the
Duchess；　was　racking　his　brain　with　shrewd　conjecture　to　discover　what
it　could　be。

The　scene　had　changed。　In　front　of　a　fine　picture；　representing　the
Desert　and　the　Red　Sea；　the　Egyptians　and　Hebrews　marched　and
countermarched　without　any　effect　on　the　feelings　of　the　four　persons
in　the　Duchess'　box。　But　when　the　first　chords　on　the　harps　preluded
the　hymn　of　the　delivered　Israelites；　the　Prince　and　Vendramin　rose
and　stood　leaning　against　the　opposite　sides　of　the　box；　and　the
Duchess；　resting　her　elbow　on　the　velvet　ledge；　supported　her　head　on
her　left　hand。

The　Frenchman；　understanding　from　this　little　stir；　how　important　this
justly　famous　chorus　was　in　the　opinion　of　the　house；　listened　with
devout　attention。

The　audience；　with　one　accord；　shouted　for　its　repetition。

〃I　feel　as　if　I　were　celebrating　the　liberation　of　Italy；〃　thought　a
Milanese。

〃Such　music　lifts　up　bowed　heads；　and　revives　hope　in　the　most
torpid；〃　said　a　man　from　the　Romagna。

〃In　this　scene；〃　said　Massimilla；　whose　emotion　was　evident；　〃science
is　set　aside。　Inspiration；　alone；　dictated　this　masterpiece；　it　rose
from　the　composer's　soul　like　a　cry　of　love！　As　to　the　accompaniment；
it　consists　of　the　harps；　the　orchestra　appears　only　at　the　last
repetition　of　that　heavenly　strain。　Rossini　can　never　rise　higher　than
in　this　prayer；　he　will　do　as　good　work；　no　doubt；　but　never　better：
the　sublime　is　always　equal　to　itself；　but　this　hymn　is　one　of　the
things　that　will　always　be　sublime。　The　only　match　for　such　a
conception　might　be　found　in　the　psalms　of　the　great　Marcello；　a　noble
Venetian；　who　was　to　music　what　Giotto　was　to　painting。　The　majesty　of
the　phrase；　unfolding　itself　with　episodes　of　inexhaustible　melody；　is
comparable　with　the　finest　things　ever　invented　by　religious　writers。

〃How　simple　is　the　structure！　Moses　opens　the　attack　in　G　minor；
ending　in　a　cadenza　in　B　flat　which　allows　the　chorus　to　come　in；
/pianissimo/　at　first；　in　B　flat；　returning　by　modulations　to　G　minor。
This　splendid　treatment　of　the　voices；　recurring　three　times；　ends　in
the　last　strophe　with　a　/stretto/　in　G　major　of　absolutely
overpowering　effect。　We　feel　as　though　this　hymn　of　a　nation　released
from　slavery；　as　it　mounts　to　heaven；　were　met　by　kindred　strains
falling　from　the　higher　spheres。　The　stars　respond　with　joy　to　the
ecstasy　of　liberated　mortals。　The　rounded　fulness　of　the　rhythm；　the
deliberate　dignity　of　the　graduations　leading　up　to　the　outbursts　of
thanksgiving；　and　its　slow　return　raise　heavenly　images　in　the　soul。
Could　you　not　fancy　that　you　saw　heaven　open；　angels　holding　sistrums
of　gold；　prostrate　seraphs　swinging　their　fragrant　censers；　and　the
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　ex