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The morning I speak of they were singing some fugued composition by I know not whom. How well that music suited St. Mark's!
And when they had mounted the steps of the mighty entrance, and the sound of unrecognized music reached him a very myth of music, elusive, vagrant, fugued and the palace doors swung open to receive them, he could have shouted aloud on the brilliant threshold: "He says she is here in Yaque." So there were St.
and the fugued allegro, constructed with a skill that will never cease to be a wonder to the knowing, built up on the following subject: Some such purpose may been have in the mind of Mozart when he chose the device, but it was not unique when he applied it.
Occasionally the choir sat in two rows of seats that extended quite across the floor of the house, in front of the deacons' seat and the pulpit. The men singers then sat facing the congregation, while the women singers faced the pulpit. Between them ran a long rack for the psalm-books. When they sang they stood up, and bawled and fugued in each other's faces.
"It is over," said he, "and it's no use talking about it, but I could scarcely have believed what I have just heard; you are indeed an able man. At last some one brought me a fugued sonata, and asked me to play it. But I said, "Gentlemen, I really must say this is asking rather too much, for it is not likely I shall be able to play such a sonata at sight."
Half-a-dozen squeaking fiddles fugued and flourished away in the galleries, and as many paralytic monks gabbled before the altars, while a whole posse of devotees, in long white hoods and flannels, were sweltering on either side. Such piety, in warm weather, was no very fragrant circumstance; so I sought the open air again as fast as I was able.
Two prairie-wolves, in a fugued duet, can emit more disquieting noise, with a less proportion of harmony, than any aggregation of several times their equal in numbers, not excepting Indians on the war-path or a "gutter" band.
At the climax of the music which drove the people of Pesth wild at its first performance, so that Berlioz confessed that he himself shuddered and felt the hair bristling on his head when in a long crescendo fugued fragments of the march theme keep reappearing, interrupted by drum-beats like distant cannonading, Gunsbourg's battalions halt, and there is a solemn benediction of the standards.
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