silent melody

From Chapter 6, we will continue the mode of high-energy abuse text + rapid delivery of bento...

Chapter 6 [Summer] The Elegy of Pergolesi

Pergolesi's condition has deteriorated faster than anyone expected.

Candidates have imprints of thorn roses (that is, the logo of the association), and when all five petals fall off, they will disappear.

Everyone is mourning, but Pergolesi often comforts everyone. He has survived 1936 years longer than the scheduled time (3), and he is very satisfied with this.

"Standing at the cross

The mourning mother weeps"

Pergolesi sang.His body has gradually hardened and cannot move, first his legs, then his slender, beautiful hands... He can no longer play the organ.He could only lie on the bed all day long, and with his gradually blurred consciousness, he sang with his last strength.

Giuseppe Domenico Scarlatti, Pergolesi's adopted homeland and fellow-countryman from Naples/Napoli, mourned at Pergolesi's bedside.He tried to grab Pergolesi's hands, only to find that Pergolesi could no longer feel his grip.

"Why are you crying, Domenico...? I'm just... going to your father..."

"I have said goodbye to my father and brother, and I don't want to say goodbye..." said Domenico Scarlatti.

"Domenico," said Pergolesi in his weak voice, "for some reason nothing is clearer in my mind at this moment than when I was 26, in the last weeks of my life, in Pozzuoli. A Franciscan monastery... I was writing a Madonna... It was so much like this time, it's a pity that I can't hold a pen anymore..."

Vivaldi came into the house with the ointment.He sat down next to Domenico who was lying on the bed and weeping.

"Antonio, dear priest... I can feel my memory leaving me as my body hardens... what a wonderful feeling... this novelty fills my chest, and the rest Not much more..." Pergolesi's eyes gradually became blurred, and he looked at the looming red double figure in front of him.

"Giovanni... May the Passion of our Lord, the prayer of the Virgin, and all the saints, whatever good you have done or sins you have committed, heal your sins, pour out your holiness, and grant you eternal life."

After the ritual of confession, the priest anoints the forehead and hands of the dying person.

"Thank you, Antonio..." Pergolesi's voice was breathless, "—Tomaso... are you here...?! Can you sing for me..."

"His suffering can be shared, his boredom can be borne..." Albinoni found that Pergolesi could no longer see him in front of him.

"No... no dirge... Naples...! Sing me the folk songs of Naples..."

For some reason, what came to Albinoni's mind turned out to be an unusually cheerful piece of music...

To Pergolesi, who was already speechless, Albinoni sang softly:

"Look how bright and golden the sunset is"

Pergolesi smiled calmly.

"The blue waves are rippling in the breeze blowing on the sea"

His body, starting from the feet, began to petrify as if staring at Medusa.

"Twilight under the Milky Way"

The veins and cracks spread from the bottom up, and in an instant, his hands looked like weathered ancient Greek sculptures.

"Sweet songs are floating in the distance"

When his affectionate eyes turned into lifeless stone statues, his frozen body disappeared without a sound.

In a blink of an eye, the once beautiful boy was annihilated in the cold winter of 1939, and only an incomplete book remained on the once warm bed...the core of Pergolesi's yet-to-be-formed memoir.

"Come to my boat before the night"

In the end, he still didn't wait until the end of the song... Albinoni was sobbing and couldn't sing anymore...

Perhaps at a certain moment, he has already returned to his hometown that he has always dreamed of...

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The cold air of early winter hits from the valley.

No bell was rung.There was no music.Silent melody.

As a priest, Vivaldi has presided over too many of Limber's funerals.But not as hopeless as this time.

When the kernel of Pergolesi's memoir, along with his usual books, was placed in the thin black wooden case - and when it disappeared into the cold earth, those present found that it was very difficult to bid farewell to the 26-year-old who lost his life. , and musicians who have suffered a hundred years of suffering in Linbo, there are so few mourners.

Yes, because the friends he had been, or more than earlier, had been waiting for him where he knew nothing.

eternal life.No, the poor sufferers of Lin Bo lost their double life of reuniting with the other world and the real world.

Who will pray for the priest, at the priest's funeral.

A cemetery in the mountains in winter.

Aren't they all so fate, just sooner or later.

Early winter of 1939.

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When the first frost in 1939 covered Limbo's meadows, Rousseau, carrying the association's supplies, arrived as usual.

The pure and beautiful white church is so quiet that there is no sound of the organ.

"Mr. Albinoni..."

Albinoni sat on the bench in a daze, without saying a word.

"Is Mr. Pergolesi here?"

Albinoni froze for a moment, "Yes...but he is resting now so it's inconvenient to receive..."

"So," Rousseau was slightly disappointed, "Mr. Johann Sebastian Bach asked me to deliver this item to him. Mr. Bach has repeatedly expressed his apology for the delay..."

Albinoni took the postcards... Naples, and Pergolesi's birthplace, Ancona.A beautiful seaside city, white buildings facing the sea, and a sea as calm as a mirror.

Albinoni said nothing.Rousseau said guiltily, "And...for a long time after that, neither I nor Mr. Bach may be able to contact you as frequently as now. After Germany invaded Poland/Land in September, Britain and France have already sent to Germany. Declare war...the /second/time/world/world/big/war has begun."

Everyone in the orchestra couldn't help but looked at Rousseau in surprise.

"Yes, I'm sorry...the association does not have a national position, but the memoir entities need to participate in international aid...Therefore, I am afraid that by the end of the war, the association and Lin Bo's contact will be just a routine material transportation , and currently the directors are discussing to simplify this process as much as possible, because more energy must be devoted to helping civilians...

"Mr. Albinoni..." Rousseau turned to Albinoni again, who was looking at the two seaside towns in the picture, "I hope you can tell Mr. Pergolesi on your behalf, I hope he will not miss me, war I'll come to him as soon as it's over."

"I shall convey it," said Albinoni with a smile.

"Thank you. Rousseau is leaving." Rousseau smiled reassuringly, and he turned and left.

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【Involving music】

1. Pergolesi: Stabat Mater

2. Albinoni's song for Pergolesi is "Santa Lucia"

Everyone must be familiar with this song that appeared in junior high school music textbooks, but it is a Neapolitan folk song, not Venice.

The author has something to say:

The length of the correspondence between Bach and Vivaldi in the first two chapters is too long, which makes people feel a little drowsy. From this chapter on, the following plot will start the fast-paced bento mode!But having said that, historically, Vivaldi wrote letters so long-winded. In order to convince others of his point of view, he had to list a lot of facts, regardless of whether they are relevant or not... What a talkative priest...

In order to prevent the bad complaints of "Oh my God, why hasn't ×× died for so long" when watching TV dramas, this chapter is shorter, so as not to drag 5000 words and Mr. Pergolesi is still suffering...

In the next chapter, with the outbreak of World War II, Lin Bo was ignored by the association for so long; there was no letter from Bach in 8 years...Benede Marcello’s abnormal provocation and vague words were his last farewell; The bitter pleasures of Albinoni and Vivaldi were interrupted by more tragic news; could it be that even Albinoni could not escape misfortune?

The next chapter will begin the third part, Winter.As the title suggests, there is only one goal of "Winter", which is to send out lunches after torturing everyone [big mistake]; the unlucky Mr. Bach can only sit and wait for his little Italian girls to die [Hey!