《the fifth string》

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the fifth string- 第5部分


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One god is god of both; as poets

One knight loves both; and both in thee remain。''





Grander and grander the melody

rose; voicing love's triumph with wondrous

sweetness and palpitating rhythm。

Mildred; her face flushed with excitement;

a heavenly fire in her eyes and in

an attitude of supplication; reveled in

the glory of a new found emotion。



As the violinist concluded his

performance an oppressive silence pervaded

the house; then the audience; wild with

excitement; burst into thunders of

applause。 In his dressing…room Diotti

was besieged by hosts of people;

congratulating him in extravagant terms。



Mildred Wallace came; extending her

hands。 He took them almost reverently。

She looked into his eyes; and

he knew he had struck the chord responsive

in her soul。







VIII



The sun was high in the heavens

when the violinist awoke。 A great

weight had been lifted from his heart;

he had passed from darkness into dawn。



A messenger brought him this note:





My Dear Signor DiottiI am at home this

afternoon; and shall be delighted to see you and

return my thanks for the exquisite pleasure you

gave me last evening。 Music; such as yours;

is indeed the voice of heaven。  Sincerely;



Mildred Wallace。





The messenger returned with this reply:





My Dear Miss WallaceI will call at three to…day。



Gratefully;

Angelo Diotti。





He watched the hour drag from eleven

to twelve; then counted the minutes to

one; and from that time until he left the

hotel each second was tabulated in his

mind。 Arriving at her residence; he

was ushered into the drawing…room。 It

was fragrant with the perfume of violets;

and he stood gazing at her portrait

expectant of her coming。



Dressed in simple white; entrancing

in her youthful freshness; she entered;

her face glowing with happiness; her

eyes languorous and expressive。 She

hastened to him; offering both hands。

He held them in a loving; tender grasp;

and for a moment neither spoke。 Then

she; gazing clearly and fearlessly into

his eyes; said: ‘‘My heart has found its

melody!''



He; kneeling like Sir Gareth of old:

‘‘The song and the singer are yours

forever。 ''



She; bidding him arise: ‘‘And I forever

yours。'' And wondering at her

boldness; she added; ‘‘I know and feel

that you love meyour eyes confirmed

your love before you spoke。'' Then;

convincingly and ingenuously; ‘‘I knew

you loved me the moment we first met。

Then I did not understand what that

meant to you; now I do。''



He drew her gently to him; and the

motive of their happiness was defined

in sweet confessions: ‘‘My love; my

lifeMy life; my love。''



The magic of his music had changed

her very being; the breath of love was

in her soul; the vision of love was dancing

in her eyes。 The child of marble;

like the statue of old; had come to life:



          ‘‘And not long since

I was a cold; dull stone! I recollect

That by some means I knew that I was stone;

That was the first dull gleam of consciousness;

I became conscious of a chilly self;

A cold; immovable identity。

I knew that I was stone; and knew no more!

Then; by an imperceptible advance;

Came the dim evidence of outer things;

Seendarkly and imperfectlyyet seen

The walls surrounding me; and I; alone。

That pedestalthat curtainthen a voice

That called on Galatea! At that word;

Which seemed to shake my marble to the core;

That which was dim before; came evident。

Sounds; that had hummed around me; indistinct;

Vague; meaninglessseemed to resolve themselves

Into a language I could understand;

I felt my frame pervaded by a glow

That seemed to thaw my marble into flesh;

Its cold; hard substance throbbed with active life;

My limbs grew supple; and I movedI lived!

Lived in the ecstasy of a new…born life!

Lived in the love of him that fashioned me!

Lived in a thousand tangled thoughts of hope。''





Day after day he came; they told their

love; their hopes; their ambitions。 She

assumed absolute proprietorship in him。

She gloried in her possession。



He was born into the world; nurtured

in infancy; trained in childhood and

matured into manhood; for one express

purposeto be hers alone。 Her

ownership ranged from absolute despotism

to humble slavery; and he was happy

through it all。



One day she said: ‘‘Angelo; is it your purpose

to follow your profession always?''



‘‘Necessarily; it is my livelihood;'' he replied。



‘‘But do you not think that after we

stand at the altar; we never should be

separated?''



‘‘We will be together always;'' said

he; holding her face between his palms;

and looking with tender expression into

her inquiring eyes。



‘‘But I notice that women cluster

around you after your concertsand

shake your hand longer than they

shouldand talk to you longer than

they shouldand go away looking self…

satisfied!'' she replied brokenly; much

as a little girl tells of the theft of her

doll。



‘‘Nonsense;'' he said; smiling; ‘‘that

is all part of my profession; it is not

me they care for; it is the music I

give that makes them happy。 If; in my

playing; I achieve results out of the

common; they admire me!'' and he kissed

away the unwelcome tears。



‘‘I know;'' she continued; ‘‘but

lately; since we have loved each other;

I can not bear to see a woman near

you。 In my dreams again and again

an indefinable shadow mockingly comes;

and cries to me; ‘he is not to be yours;

he is to be mine。' ''



Diotti flushed and drew her to him

‘‘Darling;'' his voice carrying conviction;

‘‘I am yours; you are mine; all in

all; in life here and beyond!'' And as

she sat dreaming after he had gone; she

murmured petulantly; ‘‘I wish there

were no other women in the world。''



Her father was expected from Europe

on the succeeding day's steamer。 Mr。

Wallace was a busy man。 The various

gigantic enterprises he served as president

or director occupied most of his

time。 He had been absent in Europe

for several months; and Mildred was

anxiously awaiting his return to tell him

of her love。



When Mr。 Wallace came to his residence

the next morning; his daughter

met him with a fond display of filial

affection; they walked into the drawing…

room; hand in hand; he saw a picture

of the violinist on the piano。 ‘‘Who's

the handsome young fellow?'' he asked;

looking at the portrait with the satisfaction

a man feels when he sees a splendid

type of his own sex。



‘‘That is Angelo Diotti; the famous

violinist;'' she said; but she could not

add another word。



As they strolled through the rooms

he noticed no less than three likenesses

of the Tuscan。 And as they passed her

room he saw still another on the chiffonnier。



‘‘Seems to me the house is running wild with

photographs of that fiddler;'' he said。



For the first time in her life she was

self…conscious: ‘‘I will wait for a more

opportune time to tell him;'' she thought。



In the scheme of Diotti's appearance

in New York there were to be two

more concerts。 One was to be given

that evening。 Mildred coaxed her

father to accompany her to hear the

violinist。 Mr。 Wallace was not fond

of music; ‘‘it had been knocked out of

him on the farm up in Vermont; when

he was a boy;'' he would apologetically

explain; and besides he had the old

puritanical abhorrence of stage people

putting them all in one classas puppets

who danced for played or talked for an

idle and unthinking public。



So it was with the thought of a

wasted evening that he accompanied

Mildred to the concert。



The entertainment was a repetition

of the others Diotti had given; and at

its end; Mildred said to her father:

‘‘Come; I want to congratulate Signor

Diotti in person。''



‘‘That is entirely unnecessary;'' he

replied。



‘‘It is my desire;'' and the girl led

the unwilling parent back of the scenes

and into Diotti's dressing…room。



Mildred introduced Diotti to her

father; who after a few commonplaces

lapsed into silence。 The daughter's

enthusiastic interest in Diotti's performance

and her tender solicitude for his

weariness after the efforts of the evening;

quickly attracted the attention of

Mr。 Wallace and irritated him exceedingly。



When father and daughter were

seated in their carriage and were hurriedly

driving home; he said: ‘‘Mildred;

I prefer that you have as little to say to

that man as possible。''



‘‘What do you object to in him?''

she asked。



‘‘Everything。 Of what use is a man

who dawdles away his time on a fiddle;

of what benefit is he to mankind? Do

fiddlers build cities? Do they delve into

the earth for precious metals? Do they

sow the seed and harvest the grain?

No; no; they are dronesthe barnacles

of society。''



‘‘Father; how can you advance such

an argument? Music's votaries offer no

apologies for their art。 The husbandman

places the grain within the breast

of Mother Earth for man's material

welfare; God places music in the heart of

man for his spiritual development。 In

man's spring time; his bridal day; music

means joy。 In man's winter time;

his burial day; music means comfort。

The heaven…born muse has added to the

happiness of the world。 Diotti is a

great genius。 His art brings rest and

tranquillity to the wearied and despairing;''

and she did not speak again until

they had reached the house。



The lights were turned low when

father and daughter went into the

drawing…room。 Mr。 Wallace felt that

he had failed to convince Mildred of the

utter worthlessness of fiddlers; big or

little; and as one dissatisfied with the

outcome of a contest; re…entered the

lists。



‘‘He has visited you?''



‘‘Yes; father。''



‘‘Often?''



‘‘Yes; father;'' spoken calmly。
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