Except that from principle he never touched his bow on the days of his
concerts before he presented himself to the audience, Lensky spent this
day just like any other; one perceived no outward excitement about him.
This time it was otherwise.
Early in the morning he visited his wife's grave in the pretty
churchyard by the Cestius pyramid, at the foot of the Aventine. When he
returned his face bore the signs of severe weeping, and he shut himself
into his room for many hours. Mascha heard him practise. He incessantly
tried passages on his violin as if he would strengthen his memory. At
lunch he sat down with his children, but could eat nothing. He
complained of weariness in his left arm. Twice the fork fell from his
hand.
In the afternoon Mascha proposed a drive, having noticed that he was
restless and uneasy. He consented. On the Corso they met Frau Spatzig
in her carriage. Lensky was about to remove his hat, then he was
ashamed of his cowardice, and turned away his head.
They drove far out in the Campagna. The fairy charm of spring spread
the fragrance of its renewed life over the graves and ruins. Dreamily
Lensky's eyes wandered over the wide plain. He recognized everything.
How often he had driven along this street with Natalie! He felt young
again, a feeling of elevating enthusiasm took possession of him.
And suddenly a vibrating and singing began in his soul. He listened
breathlessly. What wonderful songs were those? He could have written
them down now, immediately.
But did that really all ring through his soul? It seemed to him that he
heard the music vibrating down to him from above. He bent forward----
Ever lower, the song sank down to earth, with its consoling, calming
compassion, the divine compassion of an angel who understands the pain
of a tormented human heart.
Lower, ever lower, softer, fuller--hark! The song had ceased, a rough
breeze had blown it away.
Lensky looked up. Near the street stood a white church-yard wall, and
tall, dark cypresses rose around it. At the gate stood white-robed
monks around a coffin; the black smoke of their red, flickering torches
darkened the bright spring air; from their lips sounded a dirge.
The carriage rolled on; the gloomy picture vanished; around ruled the
spring. The breath of new life rose from the earth covered with fresh
green, and in the hedges the flowers kissed each other.