She fled away on the wings of the exquisite song, startling Agnes with the passion which she imparted to every note—a passion that waxed greater with every phrase until at the close of the stanza it became overwhelming. The music of the moon is embodied in every note, though the master was too artistic to make any attempt to reproduce the nightingale's song. He knew that no such attempt could ever approach success; but he knew that it was within the scope of his art to produce upon the mind the same effect as is produced by the song of the nightingale, and this effect he achieved.
Agnes listened with surprise at first, for the girl had never sung with such abandon before; but at the plaintive second stanza—the music illustrated another effect of the bird's singing—she half-closed her eyes, and gave herself up to the delight of listening. At the third stanza—Love Triumphant, the composer had called it—she became more amazed than before. The theme takes the form of a duet, as the scena was originally arranged by the composer, and now it actually appeared to Agnes as if the tenor part was being sung as well as the soprano, in the room—no, not in the room, but in the distance—outside the house.
She raised her head and listened eagerly. There could be no doubt about it—some one was singing at the window the tenor part of the duet.
CHAPTER XXI
CLARE was absorbed in her singing—she seemed to be quite unaware of the fact that there was anything unusual in the introduction of the second voice—indeed she appeared to be unconscious of everything but the realisation of the aims of the composer.
Agnes did not make any attempt to interrupt her, and the duet went on to its passionate close. But so soon as the last notes had died away, the phrase was repeated, after a little pause, by the singer outside.
“Beating against dawn's silver door,
The song has fled over sea, over sea;