The night is the first. Night Two
It was already four o’clock in the morning, when a crowd of young friends – not the philosophers or the torchbearers of life – entered the room of Faust. It seemed to them that Faust knew everything. No wonder he surprised everyone with his manners and neglected secular decencies and prejudices. Faust met his friends, as usual, unshaven, in an armchair, with a black cat in his hands. However, he refused to talk about the meaning of life and the appointment of a person at such a time. I had to continue the conversation the next night. Faust remembered the parable of a blind, deaf and dumb beggar, who lost his golden. Vainly arriving at him, the beggar returned home and lay down on his stone bed. And then the coin suddenly slipped from behind his bosom and rolled over the stones. So we sometimes, Faust continued, look like this blind man, for not only do we not understand the world, but even each other, we do not distinguish the truth from lies, the genius of the artist from the madman.
The night of the third
The world is full of eccentrics, each of which is capable of telling an amazing story. On a hot day in Naples, a young man in an antiquarian shop met a stranger in a powdered wig, in an old caftan looking at architectural engravings. To get acquainted with him, he advised him to look at the projects of architect Piranesi: cyclopean palaces, caves turned into castles, endless vaults, dungeons… Seeing the book, the old man jumped with horror: “Close, close this damn book!” This was the architect Piranesi. He created grandiose projects, but he could not translate them and issued only his drawings. But each volume, each drawing tormented and demanded to embody it in the building, not allowing the artist’s soul to find peace. Piranesi asks the young man ten million chervonets to connect the arch Etna with Vesuvius. Pitying the madman, he gave him a chervonetz. Piranesi sighed and decided to attach it to the amount collected for the purchase of Mont Blanc…
One day a phantom of a friend appeared to me – a respectable official who did neither good nor evil. But he rose to the State Councilor. When he died, he chilled coldly, buried him coldly and divorced. But I continued to think about the deceased, and his ghost appeared before me, with tears reproaching in indifference and contempt. Like the Chinese shadows on the wall,
different episodes of his life arose before me. He is a boy in his father’s house. But he is not brought up by his father, but by a servant, she teaches ignorance, depravity, cruelty. Here the boy is tightened into a uniform, and now the light kills and corrupts his soul. A good friend should drink and play cards. A good husband should make a career. The more the ranks, the more boredom and insult – to yourself, to people, to life.
Boredom and resentment led to illness, the disease dragged death… And this terrible person is here. She closes my eyes – but opens her spiritual eyes so that the dying person will see the nakedness of his life…
In the city they organize a ball. The whole action is directed by the conductor. He seemed to have collected everything that is strange in the works of famous musicians. Sounds the grave voice of the horns, the laughter of the timpani, laughing at your hopes. Here Don Juan scoffs at the bottom of Anna. That’s deceived Othello assumes the role of judge and executioner. All torture and agony merged into one scale, a dark cloud hanging over the orchestra… From it dripped drops of blood and tears to the parquet floor. Satin’s shoes beauties easily slid on the floor, the dancers subordinated some kind of insanity. The candles are burning unevenly, the shadows are shaking in a suffocating fog… It seems that people do not dance, but skeletons. In the morning, when I heard the evangelism, I went into the temple. The priest spoke of love, prayed for the brotherly unity of mankind… I rushed to awaken the hearts of merry madmen, but the carriages already passed the church.
The crowded city was gradually emptying, the autumn storm drove everyone under the roofs. The city is alive, breathing heavily and even harder thinking monster. One sky was clear, menacing, motionless, but nobody looked up to him. A carriage rolled off the bridge, in which sat a young woman with her companion. Before the brightly lit building stopped. Stretching singing announced the street. Several torch-bearers accompanied the coffin, which was slowly carried across the street. A strange meeting! The beauty looked out the window. At that moment, the wind bent and lifted the edge of the cover. The dead man laughed with an evil sneer. The beauty gasped – once this young man loved her and she answered him with spiritual trembling and understood every movement of his soul… But the general opinion put an undeniable barrier between them, and the girl obeyed the light. Hardly alive, through strength she climbs the marble staircase, dances. But this senseless false music of the ball hurts her, responds to her heart with the entreaty of the deceased youth, with a plea that she coldly rejected. But here’s the noise, the cries at the entrance: “Water, water!” The water had already undermined the walls, broke the windows and poured into the hall… Something huge, black appeared in the breach… It’s a black coffin, a symbol of inevitability… An open coffin rushes along the water, followed by waves attract beauty… Dead man raises her head, she touches the beauty’s head and laughs, not opening her mouth: “Hello, Lisa, prudent Lisa!”
Lisa woke up from a faint. My husband is angry that she spoiled the ball and scared everyone. He could not forgive, in any way, that because of the female coquetry he lost a big win.
And now came the times and the time. Residents of cities fled to the fields to feed themselves. The fields became villages, villages – cities. Disappeared handicrafts, art and religion. People felt like enemies. Suicides were attributed to the heroes. Laws forbade marriages. People killed each other, and no one defended the killed. Everywhere there were prophets of despair, inspired by the hatred of outcast love, the numbness of death. Behind them came the Messiah of despair. The cold was the look of him, a loud voice, calling people together to experience the ecstasy of death… And when a young couple suddenly appeared from the ruins, asking to delay the death of humanity, she was answered with laughter. It was a conventional sign – the Earth exploded. For the first time ever, eternal life repented…
The night of the fifth
Several minds have tried to build a new society. Followers of Bentham found a desert island and created there first a city, then a whole country – Bentamya, to realize the principle of public good. They believed that good and morality are one and the same. Worked all. A boy at the age of twelve already was saving money, collecting capital. The girl was reading a treatise on a spinning mill. And everyone was happy until the population increased. Then the land did not get enough. At this time on the neighboring islands, too, there were settlements. The Bentamites ravaged their neighbors and seized their lands. But there was a dispute between the border cities and internal: the first wanted to trade, the second to fight. Nobody was able to reconcile his benefits with the benefit of his neighbor. Disputes went into rebellion, rebellion into rebellion. Then the prophet called to the hardened people, asking to look to the altars of unselfish love. No one heard him – and he cursed the city. A few days later, a volcanic eruption, a storm, an earthquake destroyed the city, leaving one lifeless stone.
A strange man visited the little house on the outskirts of Vienna in the spring of 1827 he was dressed in a black coat, his hair disheveled, his eyes burning, there is no tie. He wanted to rent an apartment. Apparently he used to be involved in music, because it drew attention to the amateur musicians gathered here to play Beethoven’s last quartet. The stranger, however, did not hear the music, he just tilted his head in different directions, and tears streamed down his face. Only when the violinist took an accidental note, the old man looked up: he heard. The sounds that ripped the ears of the audience gave him pleasure. The young girl, who came with him, was forced to take him away. Beethoven left, not recognized by anyone. He is very lively, says that he has just composed the best symphony – and wants to celebrate it. But Louise, who contains it, There is nothing to give him – only enough money for bread, not even wine. Beethoven drinks water, taking it for wine. He promises to find new laws of harmony, to combine in one harmony all the tones of the chromatic scale. “For me the harmony of sounds when the whole world turns into harmony – says Beethoven Louise -.! That’s it That sounds symphony Egmont I hear her wild sounds of battle, a storm of passion -. In silence and trumpet sounds again, her sound is all! stronger, more harmonious! “
Beethoven’s death was regretted by one of the courtiers. But his voice was lost: the crowd listened to the conversation of the two diplomats…
The guests submitted to the art of improviser Kipriano. He clothed the subject in a poetic form, developed a given theme. He simultaneously wrote a poem, dictated another, improvised the third. The ability to improvise, he received recently. He was endowed with Dr. Segeliel. After all, Kipriano grew up in poverty and was worried about what the world feels, but can not express it. He wrote poetry by request – but failed. Kipriano thought that his illness was to blame for his failure. Segeliel treated everyone who spoke to him, even if the disease was fatal. He did not take money for treatment, but set strange conditions: to throw a large sum of money into the sea, to break his house, to leave his homeland. Those who refused to fulfill these conditions soon died. The ill-wishers accused him of numerous murders, but the court acquitted him.
Segeliel agreed to help Kipriano and set the condition: “You will know everything every moment, see everything, understand everything.” Kipriano agreed. Ségieliel laid his hand on the boy’s heart and pronounced the spell. At that moment, Kipriano already felt, heard and understood the whole of nature – how the viewer sees and feels the body of the young woman, touching it with a knife… He wanted to drink a glass of water – and saw in it myriads of infusorians. He lies down on the green grass and hears thousands of hammers… Kipriano and people, Kipriano and nature were divided by the abyss… Kipriano became insane. He fled from the fatherland, wandered. At last he acted as a clown to one steppe landowner. He walks in a frieze overcoat, girded with a red kerchief, composes poetry in a language composed of all the languages of the world…
Night of the eighth
Sebastian Bach was brought up in the house of his elder brother, the organist of the Christopher’s Oardhof Church. It was a respected, but a little stiff musician, who lived in an old fashion and also brought up his brother. Only at the confirmation in Eisenach Sebastian first heard the real organ. The music captured him entirely! He did not understand where he was, why, did not hear the pastor’s questions, answered inappropriately, listening to the unearthly melody. Christopher did not understand him and was very upset at his brother’s frivolity. On the same day, Sebastian secretly entered the church to understand the structure of the organ. And then a vision came to him. He saw the organ pipes rising upward, connecting with the Gothic columns. It seemed that light angels were passing through the clouds. Every sound was heard, and, however, only the whole became clear – the cherished melody in which religion and art merged…
Christopher did not believe his brother. Grieved by his behavior, he fell ill and died. Sebastian became a disciple of the organ master of Bandeler, a friend and relative of Christopher. Sebastian was sharpening keys, measuring pipes, arching wires and constantly thinking about his vision. And soon he became an assistant to another master – Albrecht from Lüneburg. Albrecht surprised everyone with his inventions. So now he came to Bandeler to announce that he had invented a new organ, and the emperor had already ordered him this instrument. Noticing the ability of the young man, Albrecht gave him to study with his daughter Magdalene. Finally, the teacher secured for him the place of a court violinist in Weimar. Before he left, he married Magdalene. Sebastian knew only his art. In the morning he wrote, engaged with students, explaining harmony. Venus he played and sang with Magdalene at the clavichord. Nothing could disturb his peace. Once, during the service to the chorus, another voice joined, similar either to a cry of suffering, or to the exclamation of a cheerful crowd. Sebastian laughed at the singing of the Venetian Francesca, but Magdalene was carried away by singing and singing. She recognized the songs of her homeland. When Francesco left, Magdalene changed: she locked herself up, stopped working and only asked her husband to write a canzonetta. Unhappy love and worries about her husband brought her to the grave. The children comforted their father in grief. But he realized that half his soul died before the time. In vain did he try to remember how Magdalene sang – he heard only the impure and tempting melody of the Italian. Sebastian laughed at the singing of the Venetian Francesca, but Magdalene was carried away by singing and singing. She recognized the songs of her homeland. When Francesco left, Magdalene changed: she locked herself up, stopped working and only asked her husband to write a canzonetta. Unhappy love and worries about her husband brought her to the grave. The children comforted their father in grief. But he realized that half his soul died before the time. In vain did he try to remember how Magdalene sang – he heard only the impure and tempting melody of the Italian. Sebastian laughed at the singing of the Venetian Francesca, but Magdalene was carried away by singing and singing. She recognized the songs of her homeland. When Francesco left, Magdalene changed: she locked herself up, stopped working and only asked her husband to write a canzonetta. Unhappy love and worries about her husband brought her to the grave. The children comforted their father in grief. But he realized that half his soul died before the time. In vain did he try to remember how Magdalene sang – he heard only the impure and tempting melody of the Italian.
When the path of each of the described heroes was accomplished, they all appeared before the Judgment Seat. Everyone was convicted either for what he did with himself, or for what he did not do. One Segeliel did not recognize the supreme authority over himself. The court demanded that the defendant appear before him, but only a distant voice answered from the abyss: “For me there is no full expression!”