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"Sleep thou, Sancho," returned Don Quixote, "for thou wast born to sleep as I was born to watch; and during the time it now wants of dawn I will give a loose rein to my thoughts, and seek a vent for them in a little madrigal which, unknown to thee, I composed in my head last night."
If the art of reading were cultivated in America as it is in France and Germany, I would not be surprised if some American Legouvé or Strakosch were to add to his répertoire such productions of prose as this humorously poetic "Zeus's Sentence," or that mystic madrigal, "Be Blessed." "But the dusk did not last long," writes Sienkiewicz.
A herald marched before the gallant troop, And summoned, in a madrigal, the fortress; And from the walls the chancellor replied; And then the artillery was played, and nosegays Breathing delicious fragrance were discharged From neat field-pieces; but in vain, the storm Was valiantly resisted, and desire Was forced, unwillingly, to raise the siege.
His song, "Desire," is full of high-colored flecks of harmony that dance like the golden motes in a sunbeam. His "Madrigal" has much style and humor.
The only music was that which came from behind the curtain at the rear. Further directions for the performance of a madrigal drama by Vecchi tell us that when a single person speaks on the stage, all the musical parts join in representing him.
Fourth, there was probably an instrumental accompaniment, at least to the choral parts. In regard to the choruses, then, we must bear in mind the well established characteristics of the madrigal dramas of the sixteenth century. In these works the choruses were set to music in the madrigal style and they were frequently of great beauty.
The madrigal opera was intrinsically operatic, but it was not yet freed from the restrictions of impersonality from which its parent, the polyphony of the church, could not logically rid itself even with the aid of a Palestrina's genius. We must then follow this line of later development. The Predominance of the Spectacular
After a madrigal or two, and an Italian song of Master Frank's, all which went sweetly enough, the ladies rose, and went. Whereon Will Cary, drawing his chair close to Frank's, put quietly into his hand a dirty letter. "This was the letter left for me," whispered he, "by a country fellow this morning. Look at it and tell me what I am to do." Whereon Frank opened, and read
Rising, he looked at the title, printed in Hungarian; then, leaning over the Tzigana till his breath fanned her cheek, he murmured: "Janos Nemeth was right. The world holds but one fair maiden." She turned very pale, rose from the piano, and giving him her hand, said: "It is almost a madrigal, my dear Prince, is it not? I am going to be frank with you. You love me, I know; and I also love you.
The master of the house was to be surprised with a song on the morning of his birthday festival. "Excellent," said Georg, interrupting his friend, "she will manage the matter admirably." "Not she alone; we can depend upon Fran Van der Werff too. At first she wanted to decline, but when I proposed a pretty madrigal, yielded and took the soprano." "The soprano?" asked the Junker excitedly.
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