"Yes, it is pretty," said Godfred--"he can now move all his paws."
"Do not think of your stupid dog," exclaimed Dubois, "you will not often be so fortunate as to hear a sonata of Lulli. Collect your thoughts well together. Hist! now we are passing over suddenly to the flats? St! do you hear? Ah! the passage is exquisite."
"He must eat a rice mess this evening," said Godfred.
"Can you endure music, Peter Florval?" cried the musician, eagerly addressing the State Counsellor; "Many nerves are unable to support it. Now we are coming to the conclusion. Forte! forte! bound! continue! what do you think? Ah, now comes, the most difficult passage. That is a composition that requires fingering and skill. It flies right and left. Now I play over with my right hand in the bass, now the into the treble. See, now I work away crossing hands; now with all ten fingers! and again! and again! I need indeed take my elbows to help. Over, over! dispatch! Ah, it is admirably written. Do you not think so, gossip?"
"At first though he must only be allowed to run with caution," said Godfred.
"Still those doggish vagaries?" said Dubois, sullenly, "banish, I pray, those four-legged thoughts from your mind, and for once live entirely for art."
"I must afterwards though cut the divining-rod," said Godfred in a loud voice to himself.
"Stop!" cried the long musician, as he jumped up, "you here remind me of a thought, I have wished for some time to impart to you. Do you know what to do with such things?"
"So, so," said Godfred, "I discovered my well for myself by means of it, and thus served several neighbours."
"And treasures!" cried Dubois.