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Many times he rallied her when she became sentimental, as he said, and "chantait sa romance;" and now he himself sang it this romance of love. Great as was her happiness to listen to him, she could not help feeling an uneasy astonishment, and asked herself under what melancholy impression he found himself at this moment. He read her too well not to divine this uneasiness.
Like Tayoga, the raw chill of the morning and the desolate forest of winter had no effect upon him. He too, was happy, uplifted, and he sang to himself the song he had heard De Galissonnière sing: "Hier sur le pont d'Avignon J'ai oui chanter la belle, Lon, la, J'ai oui chanter la belle, Elle chantait d'un ton si doux Comme une demoiselle, Lon, la, Comme une demoiselle."
Many times he rallied her when she became sentimental, as he said, and "chantait sa romance;" and now he himself sang it this romance of love. Great as was her happiness to listen to him, she could not help feeling an uneasy astonishment, and asked herself under what melancholy impression he found himself at this moment. He read her too well not to divine this uneasiness.
He seemed to wait for something, as, leaning over the rail while the stars came out, he sang to himself, in a soft undertone, a snatch of a Creole song: "La pluie la pluie tombait, Crapaud criait, Moustique chantait "
.. Sur la plus haute branche, Le rossignol chantait. Chante, rossignol, chante, Toi qui a le coeur gai ... Il y a longtemps que je t'aime Jamais je ne t'oublierai ... The rosary lay still in the long fingers. Maria did not sing with the others; but she was listening, and this lament of a love that was unhappy fell very sweetly and movingly on her spirit a little weary with prayer.
One or two of the ladies sang to the music, another danced, and then de Galisonniére, in a full, round tenor voice, sang "The Bridge of Avignon." "Hier sur le pont d'Avignon J'ai oui chanter la belle Lon, la, J'ai oui chanter la belle, Elle chantait d'un ton si doux Comme une demoiselle Lon, la, Comme une demoiselle."
Then he left Malbrouck, and it was: "Hier sur le pont d'Avignon J'ai oui chanter la belle Lon, la, J'ai oui chanter la belle Elle chantait d'un ton si doux Comme une demoiselle Lon, la, Comme une demoiselle."
Quelles délices, quel délire, Dans sa bouche et son sourire! Et sa voix qui ne dirait Que le rossignol chantait? Qu'elle est belle la marquise! La marquise! ma marquise! Bel amour est sa devise, Et sa profession de foi Est: je vous aime aimez moi! Qu'elle est belle la marquise! "Oh, how interesting!" cried Lilly. "I shall die if I don't find out something more about him."
It seems actually and beautifully true, as Reissman says, that "Schumann's devotions were as chaste and devout as those of the soul of a pure woman." Such a love, such a courtship, and such a wedlock as that of Robert and Clara Schumann ennoble not only the art and history of music, but those as well of humanity. "Et le cortège chantait quelque chose de triste des oh! et des ah!"
Many times he rallied her when she became sentimental, as he said, and "chantait sa romance;" and now he himself sang it this romance of love. Great as was her happiness to listen to him, she could not help feeling an uneasy astonishment, and asked herself under what melancholy impression he found himself at this moment. He read her too well not to divine this uneasiness.
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