Libro · The Picture of Dorian Gray
Pagina 300 de 490
Autor: Oscar Wilde
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At another time he devoted himself entirely to music, and in a
long latticed room, with a vermilion-and-gold ceiling and walls
of olive-green lacquer, he used to give curious concerts in which
mad gipsies tore wild music from little zithers, or grave,
yellow-shawled Tunisians plucked at the strained strings of
monstrous lutes, while grinning Negroes beat monotonously upon
copper drums and, crouching upon scarlet mats, slim turbaned
Indians blew through long pipes of reed or brass and charmed-or
feigned to charm-great hooded snakes and horrible horned adders.
The harsh intervals and shrill discords of barbaric music stirred
him at times when Schubert's grace, and Chopin's beautiful
sorrows, and the mighty harmonies of Beethoven himself, fell
unheeded on his ear.
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