Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1870-11-03
until his violent agitation gave place to a

deep but quiet sorrow;
land vet, how ardently l have loved
her y, he continued to soliloquize. Il gave
her nv whole heart would have laid down
INV life for her. Had she but told me,
quietly and calmly, that she did not, could
not love me, her image would have re
NAMED pure and unspotted in my memory.
WHY this disdain, this scorn, this contempt?
But will forget her." he murmered, after
O pause, wiping away an unwilling tear;
and then, he sat down at the table near the
window, and seemed lost in deep reve-
RE.
And now the genius of music lowered
over the head OF the grief-laden young
man, and voiced his woes in mourniul
tones, that floated to and fro on the ear OF
his fantasy until they were woven into
melody; and he seized a pen and began
hurriedly to write. Note ranged itself at
ter note; and when one sheet was filled,
he reached after another and another, UNI
til the composition was finished.
1t was a waltz; but, inspiring rs it was,
still there ran through its now lively,
now measured strains, tone of namelcSs
melancholy, cry of bitter, fearful agony.
In listening to its note. one might be >at
once Joyous and sad might. laugh and
die.
After playing it two or three times
through, Struss laid aside his violin, gath
cred up the sheets, and concealed them
carefully in drawer of his writing table,
"Rest there" said he, mourntully; 81
will call you the 'Sophine Waltz In you
bury my hopes, my sorrows, and-my
love. You are not for profane ears. Why
should the world know that have loved,
that have suffered"
Months had passed, during which
Strauss sought, by close application, to for
get his grief. He seemed in Il great meas
ure, to have succeeded; for Sophie's heart
lessness, and the contempt she had shown
for him, were sufficient proofs to the artist
that she was unworthy of his love.
The image of the loved one had become
fainter and even fainter in his memory,
when one morning, young, elegantly
dressed man called at his lodgings, and
presented himself as Count NJ.
Strauss received the visitor with his ac-
customed urbanity, and begged to know
in what he could serve HIM.
II am about to be married." began the
count, in nasal tone, CHANGING around
the room with pair of shy, expression
less eyes, land, as am DESTROYS that my
wedding shall be in keeping with my rank,
and as brilliant as possible, | come to re-
quest that you, with your orchestra, sup
ply the music, if you will"
Certainly count" replied Strauss, 81
am at your service"
Thank you, thank you,' replied the
count. LAS for your terms, my steward
has instructions to accept them. whatever
they may be. will send him to you to-
morrow"
The object of his visit being accom-
plished, he rose and stepped toward the
door.
Strauss who could not help observing
the strange, almost timid manner of his
visitor-ior he seemed studiously to avoid
his gaze-replied with only 4 slight bow.
As he was opening the door, the count
turned round, and stammered,
''Apropos, you may be curious to learn
the name of my brde-it is Countess So
phie c. Good morning"
For q moment, Strauss was Supplied :;
but quickly recovering command OF him
self, his first thought was to hasten after
the count, and take back the promise; on
second thought, however. he resolved to
pursue a wiser course.
Shameful !" he cried in bitter tone.
but the dart intended tor my bosom. my
beauteous countess, shall pierce your own.
You could have given me no better proof
of your utter unworthiness than in prefer
ing to me this titled idiot. will play at
your wedding-will play the waltz com
posed in my agony. You shall see that
no longer suffer, that my hand does not
tremble in welding the baton or drawing
the bow
The marriage ceremony had been per-
formed. Countess Sophie was now the
wife of Count Nj. The palatial resi-
dence of the brides mother was lighted
by hundreds of wax candles, and its spa
cious apartments were filled with the elite
Of Vienna.
1t was time for the dancing to begin
The rank and the file of the orchestra
were in their places, and Strauss, fautless-
~ attired, stepped TO the front, violin and
bow in hand. He was pale but calm he
had every muscle under control. His
bearing was proud and graceful, as he
gave the signal to begin, stirring intro
duction. followed by the usual polonaise.
The polonaise was to be followed by Il
waltz-a new composition by the liking OF
dancing music" dedicated to the beautiful
bride. All were on the tiptoe OF curiosity
to hear the new air. which, every one pre-
dicted, would be something extraordinary
something worthy Of the occasion.
The vanity of Sophie, now Countess
NJ. was deeply wounded at seeing the
despised lover discharge his duties as con
ductor with such apparent unconcern.
She was irritated. and the flush OF anger
mantled her cheeks in spite of herself
When she, Cleaning on the arm OF her hus-
band, who in his insignilicance was COM
pletely overshadowed by the brilliant
beauty at his side came near the orches-
ira, and glanced at Strauss, she thought
she observed on his lip an ironical smile
as he fixed his eyes on the count
She felt i'll at ease, oppressed in the hot
periumed air of the crowded saloons, and
was about to retire, when Strauss took his
bow and violin. lie gave the signal, and
the introduction to the waltz began with
soft melancholy tones, whose serious
mournful rhythm seemed to prelude.
waltz tempo without distinctly making
it. The last dominant chord OF the intro
duction sounded. Strauss raised his vio-
lin to his shoulder. and rs soon as his bow
II