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 exact idea of it. The musical thought, at the moment of its development, was constantly interrupted by the introduction of new themes, or vanished, leaving only the impression of a complicated and laborious attempt at instrumentation. But these same new themes, beautiful as some of them were, gave an unpleasant impression, because they were not expected or prepared for. Gayety and sadness and despair and tenderness and triumph followed one another like the incoherent thoughts of a madman, to be themselves followed by others as wild.

During the whole performance, Levin experienced a feeling analogous to what a deaf man might have in looking at dancers. He was in a state of utter dubiety when the piece came to an end, and he felt a great weariness from the strain of intellectual intensity which was never rewarded.

On all sides were heard loud applause and clapping of hands. All got up and moved about, talking. Wishing to get some light on his doubts by the impressions of others. Levin began to walk about, seeking for the connoisseurs, and he was glad when at last he saw one of the best-known musical critics talking with his friend Pestsof.

"It's wonderful," said Pestsof, in his deep bass. "How are you, Konstantin Dmitritch? The passage that is the richest in color, the most statuesque, so to speak, is that where Cordelia appears, where woman, das ewig Weibliche, comes into conflict with fate. Don't you think so?"

"Why Cordelia?" asked Levin, with hesitation, for he had wholly forgotten that the symphonic poem had anything to do with King Lear.

"Cordelia appears here," said Pestsof, tapping with his finger on the satin program which he held in his hand. Then only did Levin notice the title of the symphonic poem, and he made haste to read the text of Shakespeare, translated into Russian and printed on the back of the program. "You can't follow it without that," said Pestsof, addressing Levin, now that his