The Georgetown news., 1856-03-13

since you DO not attend concerts?
i heard lady play it when we lived at
Bruhl two years since. In the summer eve
nings her windows were always open, and
| used to walk before the house and listen
And have you never heard any other
music?'
Never, except the music in the Streets
Beethoven without saying more seated
himself quietly at the harpsichOrd and be-
gan to play. He had hardly touched the
first notes when | OWNED what would fol-
low. and how sublime he was to be on this
evening. / was not deceived. Never, new
er, during all the years that | had known
him intimately, did hear him play as he
played for the young blind girl and her
brother! Never had heard such energy,
such passionate tenderness, such infinite
graduIations of melody and modulation.-
He was truly inspired.
We sat breathleSsly listening. The bro
ther and sister were mute with astoniSh-
ment. The first laid aside his work; the
second, her head slightly bent forward, ap-
preached the instrument, and pressed both
hands against her breast, as il she feared
that the pal pitationS Of her heart would in
terrupt accents of such magic sweetness
1t seemed as if we were the sport of some
strange dream, and our fear was lest we
should wake too soon.
Suddenly the fame of the only candle
hickered; the wick fell and was extinguish-
ed. Beethoven stopped. | opened the
shutter to let the rays OF the moon enter. -
The apartment was almost as light as be-
fore, and the moonlight fell brightly upon
the musician and the harpsichord. But
this accident seemed to have broken the
chain of Beethoven's ideas; his head III
clined itself upon his breast; both hands
rested on his knees; he appeared plunged in
profound meditation.
He remained thus some time. AT length
the young shoemaker approached him, and
said in low and respectful voice:
Most wonderful man! Who then are
you:
Beethoven raised his head and looked at
him with an absent air, as if he did not un-
derstand the meaning Of the words. The
shoemaker repeated his question.
The composer smiled. as he alone knew
ciousness almost regal.
Listen" said he, and he played the first
measures of the symphony i'll +. A cry of
joy escaped from the lips of the brother and
sister; they recognized him and cried: you
are then Beethoven and they covered his
hands with kisses and tears
He rose to depart. but our cntreaties sue
ceeded i'll restraining him.
Play for us once mOre-Onlv oncer
He permitted himself to be led back to-
wards the instrument The moonlight en-
tered brilliantly through the uncurtained
window, and Illuminated his serene and
massive brow.
4 am going to imprOvise SONATA to tie
moonlight said he in a testing air. He
contemplated for a moment the heavens
strewn with stars, then placed his fingers
upon the harpsichord, and began to play in
low, sad, but infinitely sweet tone. The
melody came out from the instrument as
soft and even as the light shed by the moon
upon the shadows of earth. This delicious
overture was followed by passage in triple
measure, light, lively, capricious, sort of
burleSque interlude, like midnight dance
of fairies upon the green. Then came
a rapid agttato finale, a breathless. trem-
bling, precipitate movement, describing
flight and uncertainty, vague and inStinc-
tive terror which bore US along on quiver-
ing winds, and left us at length, in state
OF intense excitement and surprise.
'Adieu, said Beethoven abruptly. push
ing back his chair, and moving towards the
door.
You will return?' both exclaimed in one
voice.
He stopped and looked at the young
bl nd girl with an air of compassion, almost
of tenderness.
Yes, yes he replied hastily, i will re-
turn and give the young lady some lessons.
Adleu, | will soon return.
They followed him to the door in o 81
lence more eloquent than words, and re-
manned standing on the threshold until they
could neither see nor hear us.
Let US return home quickly said Bee
thoven, when we were in the street, make
haste, | wish to write down the SONATA
While remember it.
We returned and he wrote till davbreak.
Such is the history of the Moonlight Son
nata, which we love so much.
GOING IT STRoNc Tho pho o1onvnr, ,,l