And Mario can soothe with a tenor note,
The souls in purgatory.
It is hardly likely that the reader is a Mario; but this is a small criticism, comparatively speaking. The atmosphere of the poem is one of reverie; and what possesses the speaker is not the literal way the words were sung, but the memory of the thrill that passed through him and through the audience as these words rang out in a pause of the solemn Miserere of the monks. Let it be borne in mind that the argument is not against the singing as singing, but against the method that would completely destroy the atmosphere of the poem for the sake of a vocal affectation. What should be expressed is the rapture of the speaker as he recalls those passionate words and tones, in his present moment of contemplation. There are certain reprints of this poem that leave out the stanzas describing the effect of the song on the king, the queen, and the marchioness. Does this not prove that those who print such versions have missed the very essence of the story?
There is one more element that we are to discuss in this connection, and that is the atmosphere of sympathy that envelops the reading of description. This atmosphere shows the effect upon us of that which the author describes.
The tendency of most readers is toward imitation,—to groan and moan, and laugh and cry, whenever these words appear in the selection interpreted. In such passages as the following from Aldrich’s Face Against the Pane, we have heard more than one reader imitate the screeching and the moaning, and the groaning and the breaking:
She hears the sea bird screech,
And the breakers on the beach
Making moan, making moan.
And again, in the same poem, we have heard imitations of the tolling bells in: