"Then, my dear Handel," said he, turning round as the door opened, "here is the dinner, and I must beg of you to take the top of the table, because the dinner is of your providing."
Let me introduce the topic, Handel, by mentioning that in London it is not the custom to put the knife in the mouth - for fear of accidents - and that while the fork is reserved for that use, it is not put further in than necessary.
and you the feathered choristers of nature, whose sweetest notes not even
Handel can excell, tune your melodious throats to celebrate her appearance.
Overhead,
Handel's March swelled pompously through the imitation stone vaulting, carrying on its waves the faded drift of the many weddings at which, with cheerful indifference, he had stood on the same chancel step watching other brides float up the nave toward other bridegrooms.
In his wake spring up wine agents and cloak models; and the orchestra 'p1ays 'Let's All Go Up to Maud's' for him, by request, instead of
Handel. He makes his rounds every evening; while you and I see the elephant once a week.
A higher pleasure of the same kind I found lately at a concert, where I went to hear
Handel's Messiah.
He's a passion for
Handel. Well, Rachel," he concluded, dismissing the vision of London, "we shall be doing that together in six weeks' time, and it'll be the middle of June then--and June in London--my God!
She sang
Handel and Haydn to the family of evenings, and engaged in a large piece of worsted work, as if she had been born to the business and as if this kind of life was to continue with her until she should sink to the grave in a polite old age, leaving regrets and a great quantity of consols behind her--as if there were not cares and duns, schemes, shifts, and poverty waiting outside the park gates, to pounce upon her when she issued into the world again.
Above it, a portrait of
Handel in a flowing wig beamed down at the spectator, with a knowing air of being up to the contents of the closet, and a musical air of intending to combine all its harmonies in one delicious fugue.
Ecod, he saws away at Mozart and
Handel and the rest of the big-wigs like a thorough workman.
the ear of
Handel predict the witchcraft of harmonic sound?
"I know not what you call my bass," said Heyward, piqued at her remark, "but I know that your safety, and that of Cora, is far dearer to me than could be any orchestra of
Handel's music." He paused and turned his head quickly toward a thicket, and then bent his eyes suspiciously on their guide, who continued his steady pace, in undisturbed gravity.