“Holy, holy, is the Lord God of Sabaoth.”
And the Man in Blue, where was he?
By the altar, with his face turned towards his organ. His whole countenance was radiant, his eyes were bright, and a look ecstatic and serene passed over his features. But how ethereal he looked!
When Mass was over the congregation passed round the porch to see the great composers. “Long live Bach!” “Hail to Glück!” they cried as they recognized these popular men.
But Bach held aloof. “Lead me,” he said, “to that man of genius who has so wonderfully improved the king of instruments.”
“Master,” I answered, “he is in the church.” And we re-entered the sacred edifice together, followed by Graun. I led them to the Man in Blue. But what a change had come over him! The pallor of death was on his brow; he had sunk back on a bench, and when he perceived us vainly strove to rise. “Ah! excuse me, my masters. I receive you very badly; but I am not well—the joy has killed me. I am dying, gentlemen, of joy.”
They raised him between them. I ran for the priest, and to the doors, which I shut to prevent the entrance of any intruders.
“Master, whilst I confess, play to me,” he said to Bach.
Bach, seeing that mortal aid was useless, left us, and went up to the organ. Solemnly he played. He played, as he afterwards said, as he never played before or since. The priest arrived, and Graun and I knelt down whilst the Man in Blue received the last Sacraments. This pious act accomplished, we went nearer to him. He took my hand, and Graun rested the head of Bèze upon his breast. Solemnly the music stole through the silent church; solemnly the sunlight streamed through the stained windows, and the Angel of Death stood within the temple of God.
“I am very happy,” murmured the dying man, “since Bach plays to me on my organ, and Graun permits me to rest upon his bosom.”