Fu stupor1, fu vaghezza, fu diletto!
“Gerusal. Lib.,” cant2. ii. xxi.
(“Desire it was, ‘t was wonder, ‘t was delight.”
Wiffen’s Translation.)
Now at last the education is accomplished3! Viola is nearly sixteen. The Cardinal4 declares that the time is come when the new name must be inscribed5 in the Libro d’Oro,— the Golden Book set apart to the children of Art and Song. Yes, but in what character?— to whose genius is she to give embodiment and form? Ah, there is the secret! Rumours6 go abroad that the inexhaustible Paisiello, charmed with her performance of his “Nel cor piu non me sento,” and his “Io son Lindoro,” will produce some new masterpiece to introduce the debutante8. Others insist upon it that her forte10 is the comic, and that Cimarosa is hard at work at another “Matrimonia Segreto.” But in the meanwhile there is a check in the diplomacy11 somewhere. The Cardinal is observed to be out of humour. He has said publicly,— and the words are portentous,—“The silly girl is as mad as her father; what she asks is preposterous12!” Conference follows conference; the Cardinal talks to the poor child very solemnly in his closet,— all in vain. Naples is distracted with curiosity and conjecture13. The lecture ends in a quarrel, and Viola comes home sullen14 and pouting15: she will not act,— she has renounced16 the engagement.
Pisani, too inexperienced to be aware of all the dangers of the stage, had been pleased at the notion that one, at least, of his name would add celebrity17 to his art. The girl’s perverseness18 displeased19 him. However, he said nothing,— he never scolded in words, but he took up the faithful barbiton. Oh, faithful barbiton, how horribly thou didst scold! It screeched20, it gabbled, it moaned, it growled21. And Viola’s eyes filled with tears, for she understood that language. She stole to her mother, and whispered in her ear; and when Pisani turned from his employment, lo! both mother and daughter were weeping. He looked at them with a wondering stare; and then, as if he felt he had been harsh, he flew again to his Familiar. And now you thought you heard the lullaby which a fairy might sing to some fretful changeling it had adopted and sought to soothe22. Liquid, low, silvery, streamed the tones beneath the enchanted23 bow. The most stubborn grief would have paused to hear; and withal, at times, out came a wild, merry, ringing note, like a laugh, but not mortal laughter. It was one of his most successful airs from his beloved opera,— the Siren in the act of charming the waves and the winds to sleep. Heaven knows what next would have come, but his arm was arrested. Viola had thrown herself on his breast, and kissed him, with happy eyes that smiled through her sunny hair. At that very moment the door opened,— a message from the Cardinal. Viola must go to his Eminence24 at once. Her mother went with her. All was reconciled and settled; Viola had her way, and selected her own opera. O ye dull nations of the North, with your broils25 and debates,— your bustling26 lives of the Pnyx and the Agora!— you cannot guess what a stir throughout musical Naples was occasioned by the rumour7 of a new opera and a new singer. But whose the opera? No cabinet intrigue27 ever was so secret. Pisani came back one night from the theatre, evidently disturbed and irate28. Woe29 to thine ears hadst thou heard the barbiton that night! They had suspended him from his office,— they feared that the new opera, and the first debut9 of his daughter as prima donna, would be too much for his nerves. And his variations, his diablerie of sirens and harpies, on such a night, made a hazard not to be contemplated30 without awe31. To be set aside, and on the very night that his child, whose melody was but an emanation of his own, was to perform,— set aside for some new rival: it was too much for a musician’s flesh and blood. For the first time he spoke32 in words upon the subject, and gravely asked — for that question the barbiton, eloquent33 as it was, could not express distinctly — what was to be the opera, and what the part? And Viola as gravely answered that she was pledged to the Cardinal not to reveal. Pisani said nothing, but disappeared with the violin; and presently they heard the Familiar from the house-top (whither, when thoroughly34 out of humour, the musician sometimes fled), whining35 and sighing as if its heart were broken.
The affections of Pisani were little visible on the surface. He was not one of those fond, caressing36 fathers whose children are ever playing round their knees; his mind and soul were so thoroughly in his art that domestic life glided37 by him, seemingly as if THAT were a dream, and the heart the substantial form and body of existence. Persons much cultivating an abstract study are often thus; mathematicians38 proverbially so. When his servant ran to the celebrated39 French philosopher, shrieking40, “The house is on fire, sir!” “Go and tell my wife then, fool!” said the wise man, settling back to his problems; “do I ever meddle41 with domestic affairs?” But what are mathematics to music — music, that not only composes operas, but plays on the barbiton? Do you know what the illustrious Giardini said when the tyro42 asked how long it would take to learn to play on the violin? Hear, and despair, ye who would bend the bow to which that of Ulysses was a plaything, “Twelve hours a day for twenty years together!” Can a man, then, who plays the barbiton be always playing also with his little ones? No, Pisani; often, with the keen susceptibility of childhood, poor Viola had stolen from the room to weep at the thought that thou didst not love her. And yet, underneath43 this outward abstraction of the artist, the natural fondness flowed all the same; and as she grew up, the dreamer had understood the dreamer. And now, shut out from all fame himself; to be forbidden to hail even his daughter’s fame!— and that daughter herself to be in the conspiracy44 against him! Sharper than the serpent’s tooth was the ingratitude45, and sharper than the serpent’s tooth was the wail46 of the pitying barbiton!
The eventful hour is come. Viola is gone to the theatre,— her mother with her. The indignant musician remains47 at home. Gionetta bursts into the room: my Lord Cardinal’s carriage is at the door,— the Padrone is sent for. He must lay aside his violin; he must put on his brocade coat and his lace ruffles48. Here they are,— quick, quick! And quick rolls the gilded49 coach, and majestic50 sits the driver, and statelily prance51 the steeds. Poor Pisani is lost in a mist of uncomfortable amaze. He arrives at the theatre; he descends52 at the great door; he turns round and round, and looks about him and about: he misses something,— where is the violin? Alas53! his soul, his voice, his self of self, is left behind! It is but an automaton54 that the lackeys55 conduct up the stairs, through the tier, into the Cardinal’s box. But then, what bursts upon him! Does he dream? The first act is over (they did not send for him till success seemed no longer doubtful); the first act has decided56 all. He feels THAT by the electric sympathy which ever the one heart has at once with a vast audience. He feels it by the breathless stillness of that multitude; he feels it even by the lifted finger of the Cardinal. He sees his Viola on the stage, radiant in her robes and gems,— he hears her voice thrilling through the single heart of the thousands! But the scene, the part, the music! It is his other child,— his immortal57 child; the spirit-infant of his soul; his darling of many years of patient obscurity and pining genius; his masterpiece; his opera of the Siren!
This, then, was the mystery that had so galled58 him,— this the cause of the quarrel with the Cardinal; this the secret not to be proclaimed till the success was won, and the daughter had united her father’s triumph with her own! And there she stands, as all souls bow before her,— fairer than the very Siren he had called from the deeps of melody. Oh, long and sweet recompense of toil59! Where is on earth the rapture60 like that which is known to genius when at last it bursts from its hidden cavern61 into light and fame!
He did not speak, he did not move; he stood transfixed, breathless, the tears rolling down his cheeks; only from time to time his hands still wandered about,— mechanically they sought for the faithful instrument, why was it not there to share his triumph?
At last the curtain fell; but on such a storm and diapason of applause! Up rose the audience as one man, as with one voice that dear name was shouted. She came on, trembling, pale, and in the whole crowd saw but her father’s face. The audience followed those moistened eyes; they recognised with a thrill the daughter’s impulse and her meaning. The good old Cardinal drew him gently forward. Wild musician, thy daughter has given thee back more than the life thou gavest!
“My poor violin!” said he, wiping his eyes, “they will never hiss62 thee again now!”
1 stupor | |
v.昏迷;不省人事 | |
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2 cant | |
n.斜穿,黑话,猛扔 | |
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3 accomplished | |
adj.有才艺的;有造诣的;达到了的 | |
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4 cardinal | |
n.(天主教的)红衣主教;adj.首要的,基本的 | |
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5 inscribed | |
v.写,刻( inscribe的过去式和过去分词 );内接 | |
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6 rumours | |
n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 );风闻;谣言;谣传 | |
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7 rumour | |
n.谣言,谣传,传闻 | |
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8 debutante | |
n.初入社交界的少女 | |
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9 debut | |
n.首次演出,初次露面 | |
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10 forte | |
n.长处,擅长;adj.(音乐)强音的 | |
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11 diplomacy | |
n.外交;外交手腕,交际手腕 | |
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12 preposterous | |
adj.荒谬的,可笑的 | |
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13 conjecture | |
n./v.推测,猜测 | |
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14 sullen | |
adj.愠怒的,闷闷不乐的,(天气等)阴沉的 | |
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15 pouting | |
v.撅(嘴)( pout的现在分词 ) | |
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16 renounced | |
v.声明放弃( renounce的过去式和过去分词 );宣布放弃;宣布与…决裂;宣布摒弃 | |
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17 celebrity | |
n.名人,名流;著名,名声,名望 | |
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18 perverseness | |
n. 乖张, 倔强, 顽固 | |
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19 displeased | |
a.不快的 | |
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20 screeched | |
v.发出尖叫声( screech的过去式和过去分词 );发出粗而刺耳的声音;高叫 | |
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21 growled | |
v.(动物)发狺狺声, (雷)作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 );低声咆哮着说 | |
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22 soothe | |
v.安慰;使平静;使减轻;缓和;奉承 | |
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23 enchanted | |
adj. 被施魔法的,陶醉的,入迷的 动词enchant的过去式和过去分词 | |
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24 eminence | |
n.卓越,显赫;高地,高处;名家 | |
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25 broils | |
v.(用火)烤(焙、炙等)( broil的第三人称单数 );使卷入争吵;使混乱;被烤(或炙) | |
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26 bustling | |
adj.喧闹的 | |
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27 intrigue | |
vt.激起兴趣,迷住;vi.耍阴谋;n.阴谋,密谋 | |
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28 irate | |
adj.发怒的,生气 | |
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29 woe | |
n.悲哀,苦痛,不幸,困难;int.用来表达悲伤或惊慌 | |
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30 contemplated | |
adj. 预期的 动词contemplate的过去分词形式 | |
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31 awe | |
n.敬畏,惊惧;vt.使敬畏,使惊惧 | |
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32 spoke | |
n.(车轮的)辐条;轮辐;破坏某人的计划;阻挠某人的行动 v.讲,谈(speak的过去式);说;演说;从某种观点来说 | |
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33 eloquent | |
adj.雄辩的,口才流利的;明白显示出的 | |
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34 thoroughly | |
adv.完全地,彻底地,十足地 | |
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35 whining | |
n. 抱怨,牢骚 v. 哭诉,发牢骚 | |
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36 caressing | |
爱抚的,表现爱情的,亲切的 | |
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37 glided | |
v.滑动( glide的过去式和过去分词 );掠过;(鸟或飞机 ) 滑翔 | |
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38 mathematicians | |
数学家( mathematician的名词复数 ) | |
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39 celebrated | |
adj.有名的,声誉卓著的 | |
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40 shrieking | |
v.尖叫( shriek的现在分词 ) | |
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41 meddle | |
v.干预,干涉,插手 | |
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42 tyro | |
n.初学者;生手 | |
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43 underneath | |
adj.在...下面,在...底下;adv.在下面 | |
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44 conspiracy | |
n.阴谋,密谋,共谋 | |
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45 ingratitude | |
n.忘恩负义 | |
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46 wail | |
vt./vi.大声哀号,恸哭;呼啸,尖啸 | |
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47 remains | |
n.剩余物,残留物;遗体,遗迹 | |
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48 ruffles | |
褶裥花边( ruffle的名词复数 ) | |
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49 gilded | |
a.镀金的,富有的 | |
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50 majestic | |
adj.雄伟的,壮丽的,庄严的,威严的,崇高的 | |
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51 prance | |
v.(马)腾跃,(人)神气活现地走 | |
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52 descends | |
v.下来( descend的第三人称单数 );下去;下降;下斜 | |
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53 alas | |
int.唉(表示悲伤、忧愁、恐惧等) | |
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54 automaton | |
n.自动机器,机器人 | |
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55 lackeys | |
n.听差( lackey的名词复数 );男仆(通常穿制服);卑躬屈膝的人;被待为奴仆的人 | |
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56 decided | |
adj.决定了的,坚决的;明显的,明确的 | |
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57 immortal | |
adj.不朽的;永生的,不死的;神的 | |
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58 galled | |
v.使…擦痛( gall的过去式和过去分词 );擦伤;烦扰;侮辱 | |
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59 toil | |
vi.辛劳工作,艰难地行动;n.苦工,难事 | |
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60 rapture | |
n.狂喜;全神贯注;着迷;v.使狂喜 | |
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61 cavern | |
n.洞穴,大山洞 | |
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62 hiss | |
v.发出嘶嘶声;发嘘声表示不满 | |
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