Мідлмарч

Chapter 7

           Casaubonisnotfondofthepiano,andIamverygladheisnot,"saidDorothea,whoseslightregardfordomesticmusicandfemininefineartmustbeforgivenher,consideringthesmalltinklingandsmearinginwhichtheychieflyconsistedatthatdarkperiod.Shesmiledandlookedupatherbetrothedwithgratefuleyes.Ifhehadalwaysbeenaskinghertoplaythe"LastRoseofSummer,"shewouldhaverequiredmuchresignation."HesaysthereisonlyanoldharpsichordatLowick,anditiscoveredwithbooks."

           "Ah,thereyouarebehindCelia,mydear.Celia,now,playsveryprettily,andisalwaysreadytoplay.However,sinceCasaubondoesnotlikeit,youareallright.Butit’sapityyoushouldnothavelittlerecreationsofthatsort,Casaubon:thebowalwaysstrungthatkindofthing,youknowwillnotdo."

           "Inevercouldlookonitinthelightofarecreationtohavemyearsteasedwithmeasurednoises,"saidMr.Casaubon."Atunemuchiteratedhastheridiculouseffectofmakingthewordsinmymindperformasortofminuettokeeptimeaneffecthardlytolerable,Iimagine,afterboyhood.Astothegranderformsofmusic,worthytoaccompanysolemncelebrations,andeventoserveasaneducatinginfluenceaccordingtotheancientconception,Isaynothing,forwiththesewearenotimmediatelyconcerned."

           "No;butmusicofthatsortIshouldenjoy,"saidDorothea.

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