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Now, as they sung the "Kyrie," some one shouted from the other end of the church, "My lord Arnld, they are slaying our people without;" for, indeed, all the square about the church was full of our people, who for the press had not been able to enter, and were standing there in no small dread of what might come to pass.
She had heard the Mass in Rome, and remembered the beautiful phrase which opens the "Kyrie" and which is the essence of the first part of that movement. But the altos had not the true alto quality; they were trebles singing in the lower register of their voices. Leaning towards her, Ulick whispered, "The altos are not quite in tune."
At last she found what she was seeking. "Kyrie eleison! Christe eleison! Dear God, Father in heaven, have mercy upon us!" Her lips babbled what her eyes saw, but her heart and her senses prayed another prayer: "Father in Heaven, who art love and mercy, do not count for sin to those two that which they are committing against themselves. Bless their love, even if they do not desire Thy blessing.
“The pinnace is waiting, kyrie,” announced the orderly from the companionway. “Let the deserter’s skiff be towed behind,” ordered Themistocles, once on deck, “and let Sicinnus also go with me.” The keen-eyed Asiatic took his place with Themistocles and Glaucon in the stern. The sturdy boatmen sent the pinnace dancing. All through the brief voyage the admiral was at whispers with Sicinnus.
Acting on the principle that beauty is its own excuse for being, they give many examples where the music does not even attempt to fit the sentiment of the words. The Kyrie of Haydn's Imperial Mass would do for a Te Deum, or a Song of Triumph rather than a cry for help.
Once in the open air he stopped, . . startled by the sound of full, fresh, youthful voices singing in clear and harmonious unison ... "KYRIE ELEISON! CHRISTE ELEISON! KYRIE ELEISON!" He listened, . . looking everywhere about him in utter amazement.
Even Simon Turchi was subdued by admiration, and he even momentarily lost sight of the hatred and jealousy which lacerated his heart. Mary thus sang: Kyrie! Lo, our God comes, Mankind to save from ill and bless: What grateful joy should break our gloom And fill our hearts with happiness! Kyrie eleison! God is born!
"My duty, you great booby! ... It is my wish ... my wish to let her go; and she will come back again ... for she loves me! ... All this will end in a marriage ... a marriage at the Madeleine, you great booby! Do you believe me now? When I tell you that my nuptial mass is written ... wait till you hear the KYRIE..."
The radiance of the intellect. I ought to profess Greek, the language of the mind. Kyrie eleison! The closetmaker and the cloacamaker will never be lords of our spirit. We are liege subjects of the catholic chivalry of Europe that foundered at Trafalgar and of the empire of the spirit, not an imperium, that went under with the Athenian fleets at Aegospotami. Yes, yes. They went under.
Those who had been able to do so, had knelt upon the seats, whilst the others joined their hands, or repeatedly made the sign of the cross; and when the murmured prayers were followed by the Litanies of the ritual, every voice rose, an ardent desire for the remission of the man's sins and for his physical and spiritual cure winging its flight heavenward with each successive Kyrie eleison.
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