Part 76 (1/2)

Beatrice had opened her in, but as that thunder of admiration arose she fell back a pace Was it the applause that had overawed her?

Her eyes were fixed on one spot at the extreht of the pit A face was there which enchained her A face, pale, sad, mournful, with dark eyes fixed on hers in steadfast despair

Beatrice faltered and fell back, but it was not at the roar of applause

It was that face--the one face a three thousand before her, the one, the only one that she saw Ah, how in thatbefore her--the Indian Ocean, the Malay pirate, where that face first appeared, the Atlantic, the shi+pwreck, the long sail over the seas in the boat, the African isle!

She stood so long in silence that the spectators wondered

Suddenly the face which had so transfixed her sank down He was gone, or he had hid himself Was it because he knew that he was the cause of her silence?

The face disappeared, and the spell was broken Langhetti stood at the side-scenes, watching with deep agitation the silence of Beatrice He was on the point of taking the desperate step of going forhen he saw that she had regained her coained it, and moved a step forith such cal lost it She began to sing In an opera words are nothing--music is all in all It is sufficient if the words express, even in a feeble and general way, the ideas which breathe and burn in theof Beatrice

But the e can describe it?

Upon this all the richest stores of Langhetti's genius had been lavished Into this all the soul of Beatrice was throith sublietfulness She ceased to be herself Before the audience she was Athene

Her voice, always rander and more capacious than ever It poured forth a full stream of matchless har, penetrating, it rose easily to the highest notes, and flung the power that penetrated every heart, and thrilled all who heard it Roused to the highest enthusiasave herself up to the intoxication of the hour She threw herself into the spirit of the piece; she took deep into her heart the thought of Langhetti, and uttered it forth to the listeners with harmonies that were almost divine--such harmonies as they had never before heard

There was the silence of death as she sang Her voice stilled all other sounds Each listener seemed almost afraid to breathe Some looked at one another in amazement, but most of them sat motionless, with their heads stretched forward, unconscious of any thing except that one voice

[Illustration: ”THE APPEARANCE OF BEATRICE WAS LIKE A NEW REVELATION”]

At last it ceased For a moment there was a pause Then there arose a deep, low thunder of applause that deepened and intensified itself every h in one sublime outburst, a frenzy of acclamation, such as is heard not seldootten

Beatrice was called out She caain she was called Floere showered down in heaps at her feet The acclah the consciousness thattriumph At last it ended Beatrice had been loaded with honors Langhetti was called out and welcomed with almost equal enthusiasm His eyes filled with tears of joy as he received this well-enius He and Beatrice stood on the stage at the sa at him He took them and laid them at the feet of Beatrice

At this a louder roar of acclamation arose It increased and deepened, and the tho stood there felt overwhelmed by the tremendous applause

So ended the first representation of the ”Prometheus!”

CHAPTER xxxVIII

THE SECRET

The triumph of Beatrice continued The daily papers were filled with accounts of the new singer She had cohest eminence She had eclipsed all the popular favorites Her sublilorious enthusiasm, her marvelous voice, her perfect beauty, all kindled the popular heart The people forgave her for not having an Italian name, since she had one which was so aristocratic Her whole appearance showed that she was so very different from the common order of artistes, as different, in fact, as the ”Prometheus” was from the common order of operas For here in the ”Prometheus” there were no endless iterations of the one theme of love, no perpetual repetitions of the same rhyme of _amore_ and _cuore_, or _amor'_ and _cuor'_; but rather the effort of the soul after subliht to solve the probleht hope and consolation The great singer rose to the altitude of a sibyl; she uttered inspirations; she herself was inspired

As she stood with her grand Grecian beauty, her pure classic features, she looked as beautiful as a statue, and as ideal and passionless In one sense she could never be a popular favorite She had no archness or coquetry like some, no voluptuousness like others, no arts to win applause like others Still she stood up and sang as one who believed that this was the highest mission of hu loftily, thrillingly, as an angel , and those who saw her revered her while they listened