“Among these strolling vagabonds was a fiddler who far excelled all the others in skill.  He drew the most ravishing tones from his instrument, which seemed to speak in trills as liquid as those of the nightingale, and in accents as plaintive as those of a human voice.  And one of the inmates of the castle was so much struck by the performance of this fiddler that he told the Count of it, and the fiddler was commanded to come and play at the Castle, after the banquet which was to be held on the eve of the wedding.  The banquet took place in great pomp and solemnity, and lasted for many hours.  When it was over the fiddler was summoned to the large hall and bidden to play before the Lords and Ladies.

“The fiddler was a strange looking, tall fellow with unkempt fair hair, and eyes that glittered like gold; but as he was dressed in tattered uncouth rags (and they were his best too) he cut an extraordinary and almost ridiculous figure amongst that splendid jewelled gathering.  The guests tittered when they saw him.  But as soon as he began to play, their tittering ceased, for never had they heard such music.

“He played—­in view of the festive occasion—­a joyous melody.  And, as he played, the air seemed full of sunlight, and the smell of wine vats and the hum of bees round ripe fruit.  The guests could not keep still in their places, and at last the Count gave orders for a general dance.  The hall was cleared, and soon all the guests were breathlessly dancing to the divine lilt of the fiddler’s melody.  All except Elisinde who, when her betrothed came forward to lead her to the dance, pleaded fatigue, and remained seated in her chair, pale and distraught, and staring at the fiddler.  This did not, to tell the truth, displease her betrothed, who was a clumsy dancer and had no ear for music.  Breathless at last with exhaustion the guests begged the untiring fiddler to pause while they rested for a moment to get their breath.

“And while they were resting the fiddler played another tune.  This time it was a sad tune:  a low, soft tune, liquid and lovely as a human voice.  A great hush came on the company.  It seemed as if after the heat and splendour of a summer’s day the calm of evening had fallen; the quiet of the dusk, when the moon rises in the sky, still faintly yellow in the west with the ebb of sunset, and pours on the stiff cornfields its cool, silvery frost; and the trees quiver, as though they felt the freshness and were relieved, and a breeze comes, almost imperceptible and not strong enough to shake the boughs, from the sea; and a bird, hidden somewhere in the leaves, sings a throbbing song.

“Everyone was spellbound, but none so much as Elisinde.  The music seemed to be speaking straight to her, to pierce the very core of her heart.  It was an inarticulate language which she understood better than any words.  She heard a lonely spirit crying out to her, that it understood her sorrow and shared her pain.  And large tears poured down her cheeks.