Peter Quince At The Clavier Analysis

I

Just as my fingers on these keys
Make music, so the self-same sounds
On my spirit make a music, too.
Music is feeling, then, not sound;
And thus it is that what I feel,
Here in this room, desiring you,

Thinking of your blue-shadowed silk,
Is music. It is like the strain
Waked in the elders by Susanna;

Of a green evening, clear and warm,
She bathed in her still garden, while
The red-eyed elders, watching, felt

The basses of their beings throb
In witching chords, and their thin blood
Pulse pizzicati of Hosanna.

II

In the green water, clear and warm,
Susanna lay.
She searched
The touch of springs,
And found
Concealed imaginings.
She sighed,
For so much melody.

Upon the bank, she stood
In the cool
Of spent emotions.
She felt, among the leaves,
The dew
Of old devotions.

She walked upon the grass,
Still quavering.
The winds were like her maids,
On timid feet,
Fetching her woven scarves,
Yet wavering.

A breath upon her hand
Muted the night.
She turned --
A cymbal crashed,
Amid roaring horns.

III

Soon, with a noise like tambourines,
Came her attendant Byzantines.

They wondered why Susanna cried
Against the elders by her side;

And as they whispered, the refrain
Was like a willow swept by rain.

Anon, their lamps' uplifted flame
Revealed Susanna and her shame.

And then, the simpering Byzantines
Fled, with a noise like tambourines.

IV

Beauty is momentary in the mind --
The fitful tracing of a portal;
But in the flesh it is immortal.

The body dies; the body's beauty lives.
So evenings die, in their green going,
A wave, interminably flowing.
So gardens die, their meek breath scenting
The cowl of winter, done repenting.
So maidens die, to the auroral
Celebration of a maiden's choral.

Susanna's music touched the bawdy strings
Of those white elders; but, escaping,
Left only Death's ironic scraping.
Now, in its immortality, it plays
On the clear viol of her memory,
And makes a constant sacrament of praise.

.: :.

Peter Quince is the director of Shakespeare's Midsummer's NIght Dream. HE is playing the clavier because he represents the music that is a part of the feeling and emotion of the poem.
Susanna is a young beautiful Hebrew wife who is pure and innocent. In the poem, Susanne is relxing and bathing in the garden.
The elders are lusting over Susanna and her beauty. They wait for everyone to leave and then corner her in the garden, threatening her with exposure in order to have sexual affairs with her.
The crashing cymbal represents Susanna's reaction to the elders-her shock and screams. The roaring horns represent the elders and their lust for Susanna.
The attendant ladies are stunned to see Susanna with the elders and wonder why she is alone with them. The servants realize that Susanna might be having an affair with the elders and are ashames to have been with her. They run away and tell the townspeople about it.

| Posted on 2008-12-18 | by a guest