Read Online The Complete Symphonies of Adolf Hitler by Reggie Oliver - Free Book Online

When the coffin was lowered into the grave this woman took something from around her neck and cast it into the grave, and I saw that this thing was a little seashell on a silver chain, like mine. At that moment, I believe I lost my soul. I became distracted. I was a mad thing, and there was no-one who could do anything for me. At last I found myself in the Giardino dei Stranieri because there seemed to be nowhere else that I could go. It is a hard thing to make oneself die, but what followed was still harder. At the moment of my death Carlo, my beloved Carlo came to me in a vision, weeping.
    ‘ “ ‘Why have you done this thing, carissima?’ he cried. ‘We might have been together for all eternity, but now a gulf is fixed between you and me because of your terrible act.’
    ‘ “ ‘Do not speak to me, Carlo,’ I shouted at him. ‘I have no desire to spend all eternity with a faithless lover.’
    ‘ “ ‘Faithless? How faithless?’ said Carlo. ‘I was never faithless to you, Simonetta.’
    ‘ “I told him not to lie to me, but Carlo said that the dead cannot lie, only the living can do that. So I asked him what that woman was doing at the funeral and why she was wearing the same love token that he had given me.
    ‘ “Carlo said: ‘It was my sister. Fool that I was, I never spoke of her to you out of shame for what she had become. I did not want even the thought of her to soil the purity of your innocence.’ And so my true lover Carlo left me, and I remain in this place.”
    ‘With that the shade of Simonetta drifted away, leaving me filled with an immortal sadness. By this time night had descended over the Garden of Strangers and I could see little save the lights of Naples glimmering fitfully in the distance. As I rose to go, shivering, another presence held me, this time a man. He pleaded to be heard and I could not deny him.
    ‘ “Signor,” he said, “I know you to be a great artist, and because of this you will understand and sympathise.”
    ‘So you see, my boy, my reputation extends even beyond the grave. It is quite wonderful what publicity will do these days. Well, this person, or shade, who insisted on calling himself Maestro Martini, was a curious fellow. I sensed rather than saw that he was a small nervous person, forever restless, and he told his story, accompanied by a whole repertoire of little groans, grunts and squeaks, as if the air around him was infected by his turbulence.
    ‘ “Signor,” said Martini, “I was born in the city of Nola, the son of the town choirmaster and music teacher, and early I showed an aptitude and a diligence for the art of music. My talent was for the violin and very soon I exceeded what my father could teach me, so I was sent to Naples where I had lessons with Maestro Tardini. I made good progress and was accepted among the second violins at the San Carlo Theatre. But my ambition was to be a great virtuoso, like the great Paganini, travelling the world and exhibiting my art to the admiration of all. I longed above all else to show everyone what an artist I was, so I practised, gave lessons on the instrument to unruly boys, and saved from my meagre salary, because I had decided to prove myself by giving a concert in this city. Eventually I imagined that I saw my opportunity, having discovered from my teacher, Maestro Tardini that the great virtuoso and composer Sivori was about to visit the city. I would persuade Tardini, a friend of Sivori’s, to invite the Maestro to my concert after which he would praise my great gift, endorse my genius and initiate my career as a virtuoso. What I could do in the way of assiduous practice, the hiring of a concert hall, the engagement of musicians and their rehearsing, I did. When the great day arrived I was as ready as I would ever be.
    ‘ “For the first half I had prepared some Paganini caprices, then after the interval I would play the great E Minor Concerto of Mendelssohn which was just then beginning to be all