The Middlebury galaxy. [volume] (Middlebury, Vt.) 1848-1850, 1848-04-18
MISCELLANY.
PAGANINI AND MARIANA.


shops. and haught save the sullen glare from
the lamps above; and houseless dogs crept
shivering into door-ways, and houseless want
huddled itselfbeside them on the stones while
hastily and cheerlessly the human currentpass-
ed onward, longing for the warm chimney
corner, where well known faces would revive
the spirits, and merry voices ring unsteady
round the hearth.
The pale milliner tripped lightly on her
way, and forgot her palpitating heart and
bleeding fingers in the joy of emancipation,
from the toll that was destroying her. Sleek
Fashion rolled on its carriage cushions along
the thoroughfare, and, yawIing its last yawn,
became sensible to external objects Tawdry
Vice leered from the Migrants eye,and sturdy
Labor elbowcd its way along the trottou-all,
the prince and the peasant, the good and the
bad, pursued their paths in silent haste-all,
save the poor mendicant musician, who stood
PLAYING UNDECIDED to the busy crowd.
Unnoted, indeed for what had the throng-
ing wayfarers to do with music on such night?
Though his melodies might awaken visions of
many land-of sunny France, in the age of
chiyally-of the latticed bowers Of Spain, and
the rustic ppings that ioatcd over Tyrolean
his-what were these to the prosaic citizens
of Chepe?'
Yet the player did not droop, though his
efforts-and they were of feeble skill-excited
little charity in the multitude.-Again and a
gain he resumed the violin with freshened en-
ergy, until his frame trembled with cold and
the spirit of Hope gradually retreated before
Despair. Then he swept the raven curls
from his brow; and, while the night dew sod
dened into his frame, he bent despondingly O.
yer the instrument.
4" No pity for thee, Mariana p he muttered,
tcarfully: nothing to soothe the agony and
sweat of thy dying moments! All, why did we
leave Italy 2"
You come from Italy," said stranger,
approaching the poor musician.
- 81, signor," answered the player, and he
looked imporingly upon the questioner. 1--WE
are from the banks of the bright Arno-my
sister and !, signor, and the death-stroke is on
her. Oh, help me, help me, for the sake OF
Mariana~
Mariana" exclaimed the stranger, with
sudden start
So wild and agitated had his wholes coun-
tenance grown at the mention of that name,
that flash oflightning could scarcely have
Illuminated his features with moro fiery lus-
tire.
The musician gazed earnestly upon the form
before him, but saw nothing to explain the
interest it had excited The stranger was
slight, even to attenuation his hair hung
down his shou lders in thick masses; and it
was not until he turned from the pale, meagre
check to the black eve and olive complexion.
that the gazer recognized some of the traits of
a country-man.
a see it now, signor!' said the musician :;
" you are from Italy; you too, have dwelt IN
II, ba l. ~
not so?'
al have" was the faltered reply.
&" All then YOU know how sad it is TO Ian
guish for home, when oceans roll between the
foot and its native soil. And She" continued
the musician" she raves of the skies of It
ally in the delirium of her parting soul-our
poor stricken Mariana. You start at that
name, signor :"
at recalls" said the stranger, tan echo of
youth, a forgotten dream-let it pass y"
His thin white hands wandered over his
face as if to shut out the world for a moment,
or hide some fleeing emotion.
"But YOU are in want" he added, after q
pause; then will aid you, for the love of It
aly-and Of Mariana"
And, as the last words crept from his lips in
the faintest whisper, he took the violin from
the musicians hand, and souching his hat o.
yer his eyes, assumed position beside him on
the curb.
With something of astonishmcnt, but more
of the listlcss apathy of despair, the poor play
er Welded without a remark.-And the stran-
ger wiped the damp mist from the strings, and
tuned the instrument afresh, until at last all
was prepared-Then it fell into the hollow of
his breast-he raised the magic stick with a
| triumphant gesture, and burst of impetuous
harmony came like torrent upon the bystan-
ders.
All all ! the spirit of music has found its
master genius now. 1t quaIls before him; it
opens its richest harmonies with the hand OF 4
prodigal As the golden shower fell on Danae,
falls the stream of melody at the touch of the
stranger Like the low wall of an infants
lamentation-like the joyous laugh of an Ital-
ian lazzarone-like the soft whisper of maid
en- who tells her love-like the mournful sigh
for one loved, but lost, steal the golden notes
from the Cremona. Every passion has found
a voice, every thought Of Love, or War, or
Restlessness, or Peace, now flashes from the
strings in cadences of unearthly skill.
4 And Orpheus has charmed the inanimate
things of clay. First one and then another
pauses to listen in bewilderment; and the few
become many, and the poor musicians hat
grows heavy with the coins that pour in. Lit
lie sympathy had the multitude with his sor-
row or famine, but they pay him now, as they
would successful mountebank, and he ac-
knowledged it with grateful tears.
Suddenly the stranger, who had given no
symptoms of surprise at his success, came TO a
pause. He returned the violin to the player,
arrested public vehicle that was passing, and
motioned his companion to enter.
Whittier wilt thou lead me now?" asked
the musician, as they hurried through the
crowd.
ITO Mariana replied the stranger; and
ihey drove silently away.
Following the direction pointed out by the
musician. they threaded devious.racks through
out the maze of the great city. And far from
the haunts of wealth, in a narrow, lonely street.
where the darkness was doubly drear, their
conveyance drew up, and the musician alight-
cd, followed by the stranger.
They found admission by key which was