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But what was almost entirely lacking was an outlet for symphonic music and chamber-music. "Before 1870," wrote M. Saint-Saëns in Harmonie et Mélodie, "a French composer who was foolish enough to venture on to the ground of instrumental music had no other means of getting his works performed than by himself arranging a concert for them."
He is a constant recreation and delight. I put him in my own room, and went up to look at him two or three times the first evening. Every time I looked he would be quite still, but his little black beads of eyes shone wide open in the candle-light, and I recalled how Chaucer's "Smale foules maken melodie That slepen alle night with open eye,"
He has written little for the piano except a series of duets, of which the charming "Mélodie" and the fetching "Styrienne" are the best. It is by his orchestral works, however, that he gains the highest consideration.
They played Tschaikowsky first, the tender and passionate "Melodie"; then a lilting measure from Debussy's "Faun," followed by a solemnly lovely Brahms arrangement devised by the virtuoso himself. At the dying-out of the applause, the violinist addressed himself to the nook where Io was no more than a vague, faërie figure to his eyes, misty through interlaced bloom and leafage.
Where we wer receiued by the most reuerend, aged, and holy patriarke Sophronius, with great melodie of cymbals and with torch-light, and were accompanied vnto the most diuine Church of our Sauiour his sepulchre with a solemne procession aswell of Syrians as of Latines.
He could not do it. Then he turned the handle of the music-room door and entered. Only three of the electric lights were on in the music-room. In the rosy light and half shadows the room looked larger than when seen in daylight, and different. She had wandered from the Mazurka into Paderewski's Mélodie Op. 8.
The verses were: O my luve's like a red, red rose That's newly sprung in June: O my luve's like the melodie That's sweetly played in tune! As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I: And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a' the seas gang dry: Till a' the seas gang dry, my dear, And the rocks melt wi' the sun; I will luve thee still, my dear, While the sands o' life shall run.
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