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Updated: June 3, 2025
Now the little orchestra opened up with a march: the muffled sounds came up in steady rhythm: they were opening the dance with a polonaise. Tonio Kröger sat still awhile and listened. But when he heard the march-time change to a waltz, he got up and glided noiselessly out of his room.
He turns, pride on his countenance, a challenge in his air, and marches straight on the company, who give way at his approach, open to him a passage, and soon, by a rapid evolution, are off again in pursuit of him. On all sides one hears the exclamation: "Ah! this is perhaps the last. Look, young people, perhaps this is the last who will know how to conduct thus the polonaise!"
Examine his first study for confirmation of this. His wrist was very supple. Stephen Heller said that "it was a wonderful sight to see Chopin's small hands expand and cover a third of the keyboard. It was like the opening of the mouth of a serpent about to swallow a rabbit whole." He played the octaves in the A flat Polonaise with infinite ease but pianissimo.
They hovered past to the melancholy strains of the Oginski polonaise. Maciek took off his cap, drew the child from under the sheepskin and stood beside his sledge. 'Now look, you'll never see anything so beautiful again. Don't be afraid! An armoured and visored man passed. 'Do you see that knight? Formerly people like that conquered half the world, now there are none of them left.
"I don't remember jest the partickelers, nor what she was turnin' areound to look for; whether she was goin' to a sewin'-circle and lookin' back to see what Lot was dewin' to home, or whether she was jest strokin' deown her polonaise a little, the way women does; but anyway, she was one o' this 'ere kind that needed moderatin'. "So she got turned into a pillar o' salt, and there she sot.
The problematical Andante precede d'un Largo was, no doubt, a juxtaposition of two of his shorter compositions, this title being chosen to vary the programme. From Mr. Hipkins I learned that at this Chopin played frequently the slow movement from his Op. 22, Grande Polonaise preceded d'un Andante Spianato. And now we will let Chopin again speak for himself.
"What woman alta what?" "Your polonaise. The one whe'e we stopped yestaday." "Oh! Well, I've been thinkin' about that child, Albe't; I did before I went to sleep; and I don't believe I want to risk anything with her. It would be a ca'e," said Mrs. Lander with a sigh, "and I guess I don't want to take any moa ca'e than what I've got now. What makes you think she could alta my polonaise?"
Tortured out of all knowledge, the Grande Polonaise screamed and writhed in its agony. It writhed through the windows, seeking its natural attenuation in the open air. It writhed through the shut house and was beaten back, pitilessly, by the roof and walls. To let it loose thus was Alice's defiance of the house and her revenge.
We have seen this legend disproved by one who knows. This Polonaise is not as feverish and as exalted as the previous one. It is, as Kleczynski writes, "the type of a war song." Named the Heroique, one hears in it Ehlert's "ring of damascene blade and silver spur." There is imaginative splendor in this thrilling work, with its thunder of horses' hoofs and fierce challengings.
It was Captain Jack laughing at them. "How merry it is in winter!" he cried. "It is there my uncle, the Ice King, holds his court in the palace at the North Pole. The great icebergs come crashing to the very door to do him homage, and the white young lady bears dance the Polonaise so gracefully!
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