summer's day shines down on the golden harvest； his heart seemed
bursting with the tide of blood that rushed to it。 He fancied that he
could hear an angelic chorus of voices； and he would have given his
life to feel the fire of passion which at this hour last night had
filled him for the odious Clarina； but he was at the moment hardly
conscious of having a body。
Massimilla； much distressed； ascribed this tear； in her guilelessness；
to the remark she had made as to Genovese's cavatina。
〃But； /carino/；〃 said she in Emilio's ear； 〃are not you as far better
than every expression of love； as cause is superior to effect？〃
After handing the Duchess to her gondola； Emilio waited for Vendramin
to go to Florian's。
The Cafe Florian at Venice is a quite undefinable institution。
Merchants transact their business there； and lawyers meet to talk over
their most difficult cases。 Florian's is at once an Exchange； a green…
room； a newspaper office； a club； a confessional；and it is so well
adapted to the needs of the place that some Venetian women never know
what their husband's business may be； for； if they have a letter to
write； they go to write it there。
Spies； of course； abound at Florian's； but their presence only
sharpens Venetian wits； which may here exercise the discretion once so
famous。 A great many persons spend the whole day at Florian's； in
fact； to some men Florian's is so much a matter of necessity； that
between the acts of an opera they leave the ladies in their boxes and
take a turn to hear what is going on there。
While the two friends were walking in the narrow streets of the
Merceria they did not speak； for there were too many people； but as
they turned into the Piazzi di San Marco； the Prince said：
〃Do not go at once to the cafe。 Let us walk about； I want to talk to
you。〃
He related his adventure with Clarina and explained his position。 To
Vendramin Emilio's despair seemed so nearly allied to madness that he
promised to cure him completely if only he would give him /carte
blanche/ to deal with Massimilla。 This ray of hope came just in time
to save Emilio from drowning himself that night； for； indeed； as he
remembered the singer； he felt a horrible wish to go back to her。
The two friends then went to an inner room at Florian's； where they
listened to the conversation of some of the superior men of the town；
who discoursed the subjects of the day。 The most interesting of these
were； in the first place； the eccentricities of Lord Byron； of whom
the Venetians made great sport； then Cataneo's attachment for la
Tinti； for which no reason could be assigned after twenty different
causes had been suggested； then Genovese's debut； finally； the tilting
match between the Duchess and the French doctor。 Just as the
discussion became vehemently musical； Duke Cataneo made his
appearance。 He bowed very courteously to Emilio； which seemed so
natural that no one noticed it； and Emilio bowed gravely in return。
Cataneo looked round to see if there was anybody he knew； recognized
Vendramin and greeted him； bowed to his banker； a rich patrician； and
finally to the man who happened to be speaking；a celebrated musical
fanatic； a friend of the Comtesse Albrizzi。 Like some others who
frequented Florian's； his mode of life was absolutely unknown； so
carefully did he conceal it。 Nothing was known about him but what he
chose to tell。
This was Capraja； the nobleman whom the Duchess had mentioned to the
French doctor。 This Venetian was one of a class of dreamers whose
powerful minds divine everything。 He was an eccentric theorist； and
cared no more for celebrity than for a broken pipe。
His life was in accordance with his ideas。 Capraja made his appearance
at about ten every morning under the /Procuratie/； without anyone
knowing whence he came。 He lounged about Venice； smoking cigars。 He
regularly went to the Fenice； sitting in the pit…stalls； and between
the acts went round to Florian's； where he took three or four cups of
coffee a day； and he ended the evening at the cafe； never leaving it
till about two in the morning。 Twelve hundred francs a year paid all
his expenses； he ate but one meal a day at an eating…house in the
Merceria； where the cook had his dinner ready for him at a fixed hour；
on a little table at the back of the shop； the pastry…cook's daughter
herself prepared his stuffed oysters； provided him with cigars； and
took care of his money。 By his advice； this girl； though she was very
handsome； would never countenance a lover； lived very steadily； and
still wore the old Venetian costume。 This purely…bred Venetian girl
was twelve years old when Capraja first took an interest in her； and
six…and…twenty when he died。 She was very fond of him； though he had
never even kissed her hand or her brow； and she knew nothing whatever
of the poor old nobleman's intentions with regard to her。 The girl had
at last as complete control of the old gentleman as a mother has of
her child； she would tell him when he wanted clean linen； next day he
would come without a shirt； and she would give him a clean one to put
on in the morning。
He never looked at a woman either in the theatre or out walking。
Though he was the descendant of an old patrician family he never
thought his rank worth mentioning。 But at night； after twelve； he
awoke from his apathy； talked； and showed that he had seen and heard
everything。 This peaceful Diogenes； quite incapable of explaining his
tenets； half a Turk； half a Venetian； was thick…set； short； and fat；
he had a Doge's sharp nose； an inquisitive； satirical eye； and a
discreet though smiling mouth。
When he died； it became known that he had lived in a little den near
San Benedetto。 He had two million francs invested in the funds of
various countries of Europe； and had left the interest untouched ever
since he had first bought the securities in 1814； so the sum was now
enormous； alike from the increased value of the capital and the
accumulated interest。 All this money was left to the pastry…cook's
daughter。
〃Genovese；〃 he was saying； 〃will do wonders。 Whether he really
understands the great end of music； or acts only on instinct； I know
not； but he is the first singer who ever satisfied me。 I shall not die
without hearing a /cadenza/ executed as I have heard them in my
dreams； waking with a feeling as though the sounds were floating in
the air。 The clear /cadenza/ is the highest achievement of art； it is
the arabesque； decorating the finest room in the house； a shade too
little and it is nothing； a touch too much and all is confusion。 Its
task is to awake in the soul a thousand dormant ideas； it flies up and
sweeps through space； scattering seeds in the air to be taken in by
our ears and blossom in our heart。 Believe me； in painting his Saint…
Cecilia； Raphael gave the preference to music over poetry。 And he was
right； music appeals to the heart； whereas writing is addressed to the
intellect； it communicates ideas directly； like a perfume。 The
singer's voice impinges not on the mind； not on the memory of
happiness； but on the first principle of thought； it stirs the
elements of sensation。
〃It is a grievous thing that the populace should have compelled
musicians to adapt their expression to words； to factitious emotions；
but then they were not otherwise intelligible to the vulgar。 Thus the
/cadenza/ is the only thing left to the lovers of pure music； the
devotees of unfettered art。 To…night； as I listened to that last
/cavatina/； I felt as if I were beckoned by a fair creature whose look
alone had made me young again。 The enchantress placed a crown on my
brow； and led me to the ivory door through which we pass to the
mysterious land of day…dreams。 I owe it to Genovese that I escaped for
a few minutes from this old huskminutes； short no doubt by the
clock； but very long by the record of sensation。 For a brief spring…
time； scented with roses； I was young againand beloved！〃
〃But you are mistaken； /caro/ Capraja；〃 said the Duke。 〃There is in
music an effect yet more magical than that of the /cadenza/。〃
〃What is that？〃 asked Capraja。
〃The unison of two voices； or of a voice and a violin；the instrument
which has tones most nearly resembling those of the human voice；〃
replied Cataneo。 〃This perfect concord bears us on to the very heart
of life； on the tide of elements which can resuscitate rapture and
carry man up to the centre of the luminous sphere where his mind can
command the whole universe。 You still need a /thema/； Capraja； but the
pure element is enough for me。 You need that the current should flow
through the myriad canals of the machine to fall in dazzling cascades；
while I am content with the pure tranquil pool。 My eye gazes across a
lake without a ripple。 I can embrace the infinite。〃
〃Speak no more； Cataneo；〃 said Capraja； haughtily。 〃What！ Do you fail
to see the fairy； who； in her swift rush through the sparkling
atmosphere； collects and binds with the golden thread of harmony； the
gems of melody she smilingly sheds on us？ Have you ever felt the touch
of her wand； as she says to Curiosity； 'Awake！' The divinity rises up
radiant from the depths of the brain； she flies to her store of
wonders and fingers them lightly as an organist touches the keys。
Suddenly； up starts Memory； bringing us the roses of the past；
divinely preserved and still fresh。 The mistress of our youth revives；
and strokes the young man's hair。 Our heart； too full； overflows； we
see the flowery banks of the torrent of love。 Every burning bush we
ever knew blazes afresh； and repeats the heavenly words we once heard
and understood。 The voice rolls on； it embraces in its rapid turns
those fugitive horizons； and they shrink away； they vanish； eclipsed
by newer and deeper joysthose of an unrevealed future； to which the
fairy points as she returns to the blue heaven。〃
〃And you；〃 retorted Cataneo； 〃have you never seen the direct ray of a
star opening the vistas above； have you never mounted on that beam
which guides you to the sky； to the heart of the first causes which
move the worlds？〃
To their hearers； the Duke and Capraja were playing a game of which
the premises were unknown。
〃Geno