But as Rossini would have said, “Ca sent de Scarlatti!”

The A minor Valse was, of the three, Chopin’s favorite.  When Stephen Heller told him this too was his beloved valse, Chopin was greatly pleased, inviting the Hungarian composer, Niecks relates, to luncheon at the Cafe Riche.

Not improvised in the ballroom as the preceding, yet a marvellous epitome is the A flat Valse, op. 42, published July, 1840.  It is the best rounded specimen of Chopin’s experimenting with the form.  The prolonged trill on E flat, summoning us to the ballroom, the suggestive intermingling of rhythms, duple and triple, the coquetry, hesitation, passionate avowal and the superb coda, with its echoes of evening—­have not these episodes a charm beyond compare?  Only Schumann in certain pages of his “Carneval” seizes the secret of young life and love, but his is not so finished, so glowing a tableau.

Regarding certain phrasing of this valse Moriz Rosenthal wrote to the London “Musical Standard”: 

In Music there is Liberty and Fraternity, but seldom Equality, and in music Social Democracy has no voice.  Notes have a right to the Aftertone (Nachton), and this right depends upon their role in the key.  The Vorhalt (accented passing note) will always have an accent.  On this point Riemann must without question be considered right.  Likewise the feeling player will mark those notes that introduce the transition to another key.  We will consider now our example and set down my accents: 

  [Musical score excerpt]

In the first bar we have the tonic chord of its major key as bass, and are thus not forced to any accent.  In the second bar we have the dominant harmony in the bass, and in the treble, C, which falls upon the down beat as Vorhalt to the next tone (B flat), so it must be accented.  Also in the fourth bar the B flat is Vorhalt to the B flat, and likewise requires an accent.  In bars 6, 7 and 8 the notes, A flat, B flat and C, are without doubt the characteristic ones of the passage, and the E flat has in each case only a secondary significance.

That a genius like Chopin did not indicate everything accurately is quite explainable.  He flew where we merely limp after.  Moreover, these accents must be felt rather than executed, with softest touch, and as tenderly as possible.

The D flat Valse—­“le valse du petit chien”—­is of George Sand’s own prompting.  One evening at her home in the Square d’Orleans, she was amused by her little pet dog, chasing its tail.  She begged Chopin, her little pet pianist, to set the tail to music.  He did so, and behold the world is richer for this piece.  I do not dispute the story.  It seems well grounded, but then it is so ineffably silly!  The three valses of this op. 64 were published September, 1847, and are respectively dedicated to the Comtesse Delphine Potocka, the Baronne Nathaniel de Rothschild and the Baronne Bronicka.