move the worlds？〃
To their hearers； the Duke and Capraja were playing a game of which
the premises were unknown。
〃Genovese's voice thrills through every fibre；〃 said Capraja。
〃And la Tinti's fires the blood；〃 replied the Duke。
〃What a paraphrase of happy love is that /cavatina/！〃 Capraja went on。
〃Ah！ Rossini was young when he wrote that interpretation of
effervescent ecstasy。 My heart filled with renewed blood； a thousand
cravings tingled in my veins。 Never have sounds more angelic delivered
me more completely from my earthly bonds！ Never did the fairy wave
more beautiful arms； smile more invitingly； lift her tunic more
cunningly to display an ankle； raising the curtain that hides my other
life！〃
〃To…morrow； my old friend；〃 replied Cataneo； 〃you shall ride on the
back of a dazzling； white swan； who will show you the loveliest land
there is； you shall see the spring…time as children see it。 Your heart
shall open to the radiance of a new sun； you shall sleep on crimson
silk； under the gaze of a Madonna； you shall feel like a happy lover
gently kissed by a nymph whose bare feet you still may see； but who is
about to vanish。 That swan will be the voice of Genovese； if he can
unite it to its Leda； the voice of Clarina。 To…morrow night we are to
hear /Mose/； the grandest opera produced by Italy's greatest genius。〃
All present left the conversation to the Duke and Capraja； not wishing
to be the victims of mystification。 Only Vendramin and the French
doctor listened to them for a few minutes。 The opium…smoker understood
these poetic flights； he had the key of the palace where those two
sensuous imaginations were wandering。 The doctor； too； tried to
understand； and he understood； for he was one of the Pleiades of
genius belonging to the Paris school of medicine； from which a true
physician comes out as much a metaphysician as an accomplished
analyst。
〃Do you understand them？〃 said Emilio to Vendramin as they left the
cafe at two in the morning。
〃Yes； my dear boy；〃 said Vendramin； taking Emilio home with him。
〃Those two men are of the legion of unearthly spirits to whom it is
given here below to escape from the wrappings of the flesh； who can
fly on the shoulders of the queen of witchcraft up to the blue
empyrean where the sublime marvels are wrought of the intellectual
life； they； by the power of art； can soar whither your immense love
carries you； whither opium transports me。 Then none can understand
them but those who are like them。
〃I； who can inspire my soul by such base means； who can pack a hundred
years of life into a single night； I can understand those lofty
spirits when they talk of that glorious land； deemed a realm of
chimeras by some who think themselves wise； but the realm of reality
to us whom they think mad。 Well； the Duke and Capraja； who were
acquainted at Naples；where Cataneo was born；are mad about music。〃
〃But what is that strange system that Capraja was eager to explain to
the Duke？ Did you understand？〃
〃Yes；〃 replied Vendramin。 〃Capraja's great friend is a musician from
Cremona； lodging in the Capello palace； who has a theory that sounds
meet with an element in man； analogous to that which produces ideas。
According to him； man has within him keys acted on by sound； and
corresponding to his nerve…centres； where ideas and sensations take
their rise。 Capraja； who regards the arts as an assemblage of means by
which he can harmonize； in himself； all external nature with another
mysterious nature that he calls the inner life； shares all ideas of
this instrument…maker； who at this moment is composing an opera。
〃Conceive of a sublime creation； wherein the marvels of the visible
universe are reproduced with immeasurable grandeur； lightness；
swiftness； and extension； wherein sensation is infinite； and whither
certain privileged natures； possessed of divine powers； are able to
penetrate； and you will have some notion of the ecstatic joys of which
Cataneo and Capraja were speaking； both poets； each for himself alone。
Only； in matters of the intellect； as soon as a man can rise above the
sphere where plastic art is produced by a process of imitation； and
enter into that transcendental sphere of abstractions where everything
is understood as an elementary principle； and seen in the omnipotence
of results； that man is no longer intelligible to ordinary minds。〃
〃You have thus explained my love for Massimilla；〃 said Emilio。 〃There
is in me； my friend； a force which awakes under the fire of her look；
at her lightest touch； and wafts me to a world of light where effects
are produced of which I dare not speak。 It has seemed to me often that
the delicate tissue of her skin has stamped flowers on mine as her
hand lies on my hand。 Her words play on those inner keys in me； of
which you spoke。 Desire excites my brain； stirring that invisible
world； instead of exciting my passive flesh； the air seems red and
sparkling； unknown perfumes of indescribable strength relax my sinews；
roses wreathe my temples； and I feel as though my blood were escaping
through opened arteries； so complete is my inanition。〃
〃That is the effect on me of smoking opium；〃 replied Vendramin。
〃Then do you wish to die？〃 cried Emilio； in alarm。
〃With Venice！〃 said Vendramin； waving his hand in the direction of San
Marco。 〃Can you see a single pinnacle or spire that stands straight？
Do you not perceive that the sea is claiming its prey？〃
The Prince bent his head； he dared no more speak to his friend of
love。
To know what a free country means； you must have traveled in a
conquered land。
When they reached the Palazzo Vendramin； they saw a gondola moored at
the water…gate。 The Prince put his arm round Vendramin and clasped him
affectionately； saying：
〃Good…night to you； my dear fellow！〃
〃What！ a woman？ for me； whose only love is Venice？〃 exclaimed Marco。
At this instant the gondolier； who was leaning against a column；
recognizing the man he was to look out for； murmured in Emilio's ear：
〃The Duchess； monseigneur。〃
Emilio sprang into the gondola； where he was seized in a pair of soft
armsan embrace of ironand dragged down on to the cushions； where
he felt the heaving bosom of an ardent woman。 And then he was no more
Emilio； but Clarina's lover； for his ideas and feelings were so
bewildering that he yielded as if stupefied by her first kiss。
〃Forgive this trick； my beloved；〃 said the Sicilian。 〃I shall die if
you do not come with me。〃
And the gondola flew over the secret water。
At half…past seven on the following evening； the spectators were again
in their places in the theatre； excepting that those in the pit always
took their chances of where they might sit。 Old Capraja was in
Cataneo's box。
Before the overture the Duke paid a call on the Duchess； he made a
point of standing behind her and leaving the front seat to Emilio next
the Duchess。 He made a few trivial remarks； without sarcasm or
bitterness； and with as polite a manner as if he were visiting a
stranger。
But in spite of his efforts to seem amiable and natural； the Prince
could not control his expression； which was deeply anxious。 Bystanders
would have ascribed such a change in his usually placid features to
jealousy。 The Duchess no doubt shared Emilio's feelings； she looked
gloomy and was evidently depressed。 The Duke； uncomfortable enough
between two sulky people； took advantage of the French doctor's
entrance to slip away。
〃Monsieur；〃 said Cataneo to his physician before dropping the curtain
over the entrance to the box； 〃you will hear to…night a grand musical
poem； not easy of comprehension at a first hearing。 But in leaving you
with the Duchess I know that you can have no more competent
interpreter； for she is my pupil。〃
The doctor； like the Duke； was struck by the expression stamped on the
faces of the lovers； a look of pining despair。
〃Then does an Italian opera need a guide to it？〃 he asked Massimilla；
with a smile。
Recalled by this question to her duties as mistress of the box； the
Duchess tried to chase away the clouds that darkened her brow； and
replied； with eager haste； to open a conversation in which she might
vent her irritation：
〃This is not so much an opera； monsieur；〃 said she； 〃as an oratorioa
work which is in fact not unlike a most magnificent edifice； and I
shall with pleasure be your guide。 Believe me； it will not be too much
to give all your mind to our great Rossini； for you need to be at once
a poet and a musician to appreciate the whole bearing of such a work。
〃You belong to a race whose language and genius are too practical for
it to enter into music without an effort； but France is too
intellectual not to learn to love it and cultivate it； and to succeed
in that as in everything else。 Also； it must be acknowledged that
music； as created by Lulli； Rameau； Haydn； Mozart； Beethoven；
Cimarosa； Paisiello； and Rossini； and as it will be carried on by the
great geniuses of the future； is a new art； unknown to former
generations； they had indeed no such variety of instruments on which
the flowers of melody now blossom as on some rich soil。
〃So novel an art demands study in the public； study of a kind that may
develop the feelings to which music appeals。 That sentiment hardly
exists as yet among youa nation given up to philosophical theories；
to analysis and discussion； and always torn by civil disturbances。
Modern music demands perfect peace； it is the language of loving and
sentimental souls； inclined to lofty emotional aspiration。
〃That language； a thousand times fuller than the language of words； is
to speech and ideas what the thought is to its utterance； it arouses
sensations and ideas in their primitive form； in that part of us where
sensations and ideas have their birth； but leaves them as they are in
each of us。 That power over our inmost being is one of the grandest
facts in music。 All other arts present to the mind a definite
creation； those of music are indefiniteinfinite。 We are compelled to
accept the ideas of the poet； the painter's picture； the sculptor's
statue； but music each one can interpret at the will of his sorrow or
his gladness； his hope or his despair。