“Now, do you not discern,” said Gambara, ceasing to play, and turning to the Count, “in this picturesque and vivid music—­abrupt, grotesque, or melancholy, but always grand—­the complete expression of the life of an epileptic, mad for enjoyment, unable to read or write, using all his defects as stepping-stones, turning every blunder and disaster into a triumph?  Did not you feel a sense of his fascination exerted over a greedy and lustful race, in this overture, which is an epitome of the opera?”

At first calm and stern, the maestro’s face, in which Andrea had been trying to read the ideas he was uttering in inspired tones, though the chaotic flood of notes afforded no clue to them, had by degrees glowed with fire and assumed an impassioned force that infected Marianna and the cook.  Marianna, too, deeply affected by certain passages in which she recognized a picture of her own position, could not conceal the expression of her eyes from Andrea.

Gambara wiped his brow, and shot a glance at the ceiling of such fierce energy that he seemed to pierce it and soar to the very skies.

“You have seen the vestibule,” said he; “we will now enter the palace.  The opera begins:—­

“Act I. Mahomet, alone on the stage, begins with an air (F natural, common time), interrupted by a chorus of camel-drivers gathered round a well at the back of the stage (they sing in contrary time —­twelve-eight).  What majestic woe!  It will appeal to the most frivolous women, piercing to their inmost nerves if they have no heart.  Is not this the very expression of crushed genius?”

To Andrea’s great astonishment,—­for Marianna was accustomed to it, —­Gambara contracted his larynx to such a pitch that the only sound was a stifled cry not unlike the bark of a watch-dog that has lost its voice.  A slight foam came to the composer’s lips and made Andrea shudder.

“His wife appears (A minor).  Such a magnificent duet!  In this number I have shown that Mahomet has the will and his wife the brains.  Kadijah announces that she is about to devote herself to an enterprise that will rob her of her young husband’s love.  Mahomet means to conquer the world; this his wife has guessed, and she supports him by persuading the people of Mecca that her husband’s attacks of epilepsy are the effect of his intercourse with the angels (chorus of the first followers of Mahomet, who come to promise him their aid, C sharp minor, sotto voce).  Mahomet goes off to seek the Angel Gabriel (recitative in F major).  His wife encourages the disciples (aria, interrupted by the chorus, gusts of chanting support Kadijah’s broad and majestic air, A major).

“Abdallah, the father of Ayesha,—­the only maiden Mahomet has found really innocent, wherefore he changed the name of Abdallah to Abubekir (the father of the virgin),—­comes forward with Ayesha and sings against the chorus, in strains which rise above the other voices and supplement the air sung by Kadijah in contrapuntal treatment.  Omar, the father of another maiden who is to be Mahomet’s concubine, follows Abubekir’s example; he and his daughter join in to form a quintette.  The girl Ayesha is first soprano, Hafsa second soprano; Abubekir is a bass, Omar a baritone.