Charles Auchester, Volume 1 (of 2)Sheppard, Elizabeth Sara
General
Charles Auchester, Volume 1 (of 2)
Sheppard, Elizabeth Sara
Musical fiction
prelude, began a low and hymn-like melody.
Oh! that you had heard the lull, like a dream dying, dissolving from
the awakening brain,--the deep and tremendous, yet living and
breathing stillness,--that sank upon each pulse of that enthusiasm
raised and fanned by him, and by him absorbed and hidden to brood and
be at rest!
I know not which I felt the most, the passion of that almost bursting
heart of silence, as it were, rolled together into a purple bud from
its noon-day efflorescence by the power that had alone been able to
unsheathe its glories,--or that stealing, creeping People's Song, that
in few and simple chords, beneath one slender, tender pair of hands,
held bound, as it were, and condensed in one voice the voice of
myriads. For myself, I writhed with bliss, I was petrified into
desolation by delight; but I was not singular on that occasion, for
those around me seemed alone to live, to breathe, that they might
receive and retain those few precious golden notes, and learn those
glorious lineaments, so pale, so radiant with the suddenly starting
hectic, as his hands still stirred the keys to a fiercer inward
harmony than that they veiled by touch.
It was not long, that holy People's Song; I scarcely think it lasted
five minutes,--certainly not more; but the effect may be better
conceived, and the power of the player appreciated, when I say not
one note was lost: each sounded, rang almost hollow, in the intense
pervading silence.
"It is over," I thought, as he raised those slender hands, after a
rich reverberating pause on the final chord, swelling with dim
arpeggios on the harmony as into the extreme of vaulting
distance,--"it is over; and they will make that dreadful noise unless
he plays again." Never have I been so mistaken: but how could I
anticipate aught of him? For as he moved he fixed his eyes upon the
audience, so that each individual must have felt the glance within his
soul,--so seemed to feel it; for it expressed a command sheathed in a
supplication, unearthly, irresistible, that the applause should not be
renewed.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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