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Updated: June 26, 2025
It is interesting to note that abroad Pasquini and Kuhlau went to work very much in Purcell's fashion, and added to that same stock from which Handel and Bach and every subsequent composer drew, each adding something of his own.
Daniel spent seven months in Ravenna, Ferrara, Florence, and Pisa. He was looking for some manuscripts by Frescobaldi, Borghesi, and Ercole Pasquini. Having found the most important ones he could regard his collection as complete. Men seemed to him like puppets, landscapes like paintings on glass. He longed for forests; his dreams became disordered.
He had indeed composed an opera himself, which was performed in 1692, but he was more competent as a poet than as a musician; in 1690 Alessandro Scarlatti had set a libretto of his, La Statira. Handel was no doubt recommended to him by Ferdinand de' Medici, and at the Cardinal's weekly musical parties he soon came into contact with Domenico Scarlatti, as well as with Corelli and Pasquini.
"I serve but my pleasure," was his answer. "Master I have none." "Pardon me if I presume to tell you the truth," I said. "Which is?" he queried softly. "That you are a liar, Pasquini, a liar like all Italians." He turned immediately to Lanfranc and Bohemond. "You heard," he said. "And after that you cannot deny me him." They hesitated and looked to me for counsel of my wishes.
Then Fortini gasped and coughed slightly. The rigidity of his pose slackened. The hilt and hand against my breast wavered, then the arm drooped to his side till the rapier point rested on the lawn. By this time Pasquini and de Goncourt had sprung to him and he was sinking into their arms. In faith, it was harder for me to withdraw the steel than to drive it in.
When the three of us arrived in the open space beyond the fish-pond Fortini and two friends were already waiting us. One was Felix Pasquini, nephew to the Cardinal of that name, and as close in his uncle's confidence as was his uncle close in the confidence of the gray old man. The other was Raoul de Goncourt, whose presence surprised me, he being too good and noble a man for the company he kept.
Yes; it is indeed a marvellous easy thing to kill a man. We saluted his friends and were about to depart, when Felix Pasquini detained me. "Pardon me," I said. "Let it be to-morrow." "We have but to move a step aside," he urged, "where the grass is still dry." "Let me then wet it for you, Sainte-Maure," Lanfranc asked of me, eager himself to do for an Italian. I shook my head.
Each nodded in turn and Pasquini and I prepared to step aside. "Since you are in haste," Henry Bohemond proposed to me, "and since there are three of them and three of us, why not settle it at the one time?" "Yes, yes," was Lanfranc's eager cry. "Do you take de Goncourt. De Villehardouin for mine." But I waved my good friends back. "They are here by command," I explained.
"It is I they desire so strongly that by my faith I have caught the contagion of their desire, so that now I want them and will have them for myself." I had observed that Pasquini fretted at my delay of speech-making, and I resolved to fret him further. "You, Pasquini," I announced, "I shall settle with in short account. I would not that you tarried while Fortini waits your companionship.
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