Yet in the agony of remorse, rising
from hopeless woe to a chastened worship of the light, is a strain of
inner truth that will leave the work for a long time a hold on human
interest.
Novel is the writing of words in the score, as if they are to be sung by
the instruments,--all sheer aside from the original purpose of the form.
Page after page has its precise text; we hear the shrieks of the damned,
the dread inscription of the infernal portals; the sad lament of lovers;
the final song of praise of the redeemed. A kind of picture-book music
has our symphony become. The _leit-motif_ has crept into the high form
of absolute tones to make it as definite and dramatic as any opera.
I. INFERNO
The legend of the portal is proclaimed at the outset in a rising phrase
(of the low brass and strings)
[Music: (Doubled in two lower 8ves.)
_Lento_
(3 trombones and tuba: violas, cellos and brass)]
_Per me si va nella cit-ta do-lente;
Per me si va nell'eterno dolore;_
and in still higher chant--
_Per me si va tra la perduta gente._
Then, in antiphonal blast of horns and trumpets sounds the fatal doom in
grim monotone (in descending harmony of trembling strings):
[Music: (Chant in octaves of trumpets and horns)
La-scia-te ogni spe-ran- - -za.
(Brass, wood and _tremolo_ strings)]
_Lasciate ogni speranza mi ch' entrate!_[A]
[Footnote A:
"Through me the way is to the city dolent;
Through me the way is to eternal dole;
Through me the way among the people lost.
Pages:
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37