E. B. Browning
DEEP SEA FISHERS
MOONLIGHT SONATA
It happened at Bonn. One moonlight winter's evening I called upon Beethoven; for I wished him to take a walk, and afterwards sup with me. In passing through a dark, narrow street, he suddenly paused. "Hush!" he said, "what sound is that? It is from my Sonata in F. Hark! how well it is played!"
It was a little, mean dwelling, and we paused outside and listened. The player went on; but, in the midst of the finale, there was a sudden break; then the voice of sobbing: "I cannot play any more. It is too beautiful; it is utterly beyond my power to do it justice. Oh! what would I not give to go to the concert at Cologne!"
"Ah! my sister," said her companion; "why create regrets when there is no remedy? We can scarcely pay our rent."
"You are right, and yet I wish for once in my life to hear some really good music. But it is of no use."