Призрак Оперы
IX At The Masked Ball
Thevoicecamenearerandnearer...itcamethroughthewall...itapproached...andnowthevoicewasINTHEROOM,infrontofChristine.Christineroseandaddressedthevoice,asthoughspeakingtosomeone:
"HereIam,Erik,"shesaid."Iamready.Butyouarelate."
Raoul,peepingfrombehindthecurtain,couldnotbelievehiseyes,whichshowedhimnothing.Christine’sfacelitup.Asmileofhappinessappeareduponherbloodlesslips,asmilelikethatofsickpeoplewhentheyreceivethefirsthopeofrecovery.
Thevoicewithoutabodywentonsinging;andcertainlyRaoulhadneverinhislifeheardanythingmoreabsolutelyandheroicallysweet,moregloriouslyinsidious,moredelicate,morepowerful,inshort,moreirresistiblytriumphant.HelistenedtoitinafeverandhenowbegantounderstandhowChristineDaaewasabletoappearoneevening,beforethestupefiedaudience,withaccentsofabeautyhithertounknown,ofasuperhumanexaltation,whiledoubtlessstillundertheinfluenceofthemysteriousandinvisiblemaster.
ThevoicewassingingtheWedding-nightSongfromRomeoandJuliet.RaoulsawChristinestretchoutherarmstothevoiceasshehaddone,inPerroschurchyard,totheinvisibleviolinplayingTheResurrectionofLazarus.Andnothingcoulddescribethepassionwithwhichthevoicesang:
"Fatelinkstheetomeforeverandaday!"
ThestrainswentthroughRaoul’sheart.
