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The Kyrie of Mozart's Mass in B flat is an Italian street song which he heard on one of his tours in Italy and worked over for this Mass, and is not at all adapted to the words. There are ideas in the Mass in C which neither Mozart nor Haydn would have tried to attain. Beethoven's aim here is not to please the ear by beautiful melodies, although he does that often enough, but to stir the soul.
I speak the tongue of a race the acme of whose mentality is the maxim: time is money. Material domination. Dominus! Lord! Where is the spirituality? Lord Jesus? Lord Salisbury? A sofa in a westend club. But the Greek! A smile of light brightened his darkrimmed eyes, lengthened his long lips. The Greek! he said again. Kyrios! Shining word! The vowels the Semite and the Saxon know not. Kyrie!
To read the distorted stupidity of the north one might have imagined that in the Ambrosian ritual the priest put a non before the credo, and nec's at each clause of it, and renounced his baptismal vows at the kyrie; but the Milanese are Catholics like any others, and the northern historians are either liars or ignorant men. And I know three that are both together.
There was no habitation in sight save Elzear's, and the chorus certainly did not proceed from thence, but rather seemed to rise upward through the earth, floating in released sweet echoes to and fro upon the hushed air. "KYRIE ELEISON! ... CHRISTE ELEISON!" How it swayed about him like a close chime of bells!
To illustrate the slight regard his servants had for Beethoven and their absolute ignorance of the value of his work, an incident related by Schindler about the loss of the manuscript of the Kyrie of the Mass in D is in point. On reaching Döbling in 1821 on his annual summer migration, he missed this work and the most diligent search failed to bring it to light.
Who from peril dire as this Openeth us escape? 'Tis thou, O Lord, alone! Our bitter suffering and our sin Pity from thy mercy win, Holy Lord and God! Strong and holy God! Merciful and holy Saviour! Eternal God! Let us not despair For the fire that burneth there! Kyrie, eleison!" Jacqueline met Elsie on her way to the fields.
Aunt Isabel fell on her knees weeping and reciting the Kyrie eleyson; Capitan Tiago, pale and trembling, carried on his fork a chicken-liver which he offered tearfully to the Virgin of Antipolo; Linares with his mouth full of food was armed with a case-knife; Sinang and Maria Clara were in each other's arms; while the only one that remained motionless, as if petrified, was Crisostomo, whose paleness was indescribable.
I gave the stranger a fine pillow and a blanket embroidered by Stephanium, she was my great-aunt, and left it to me by will, and the beautiful red wool was from Byzantium—” “But you spoke of Critias?” Democrates could scarce keep upon his seat. “Yes, kyrie. Well, I warned Phormio not to give him any more wine. Then I went up the ladder.
"Good God!" cried the abbot, when the page had chanted the Kyrie eleison of his sweet sins, "thou art the accomplice of a great felony, and thou has betrayed thy lord. Dost thou know page of darkness, that for this thou wilt burn through all eternity? and dost thou know what it is to lose forever the heaven above for a perishable and changeful moment here below? Unhappy wretch!
The Kyrie of the Mass in D has always presented itself to my consciousness as a series of gigantic tone-pictures, in which the omnipotence of God, and the impotence of humanity is brought into juxtaposition. The Coriolanus overture is another instance among the many at hand illustrating this point.
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