# Anton: Chapter 17



## Huilunsoittaja (Apr 6, 2010)

The next evening Anton arrived at Katerina's home. It was only 3 blocks away from Gutheil's publishing house. Approaching her front door, she was already expecting him, and opened immediately to him.
"There is no one in the house. You are safe. Come in."
Anton could feel adrenaline consuming him again. Katerina held his hands, and noticed their shaking.
"Are you worried?" she asked compassionately.
"I... I suffer from anxiety. Ever since that day I... found out."
"I'm sorry."
They sat down together in their living room. It was definitely different than the home she once was living in. It was cold and rather plain. Everything was clean and in order, but almost too clean, like a sanatorium. There was a piano however, in good condition, and portraits were everywhere. All the candles were lit, and there was a fire in the fireplace.
"You said you were... locked up here," Anton began. He sat across from her, as he had done before at his visits.
"I am. I must stay here all day and night, and if I do go out, it's always under my husband's supervision. Very few parties, and no clubs... Going to this concert alone was one of my first escapes, and I'm so grateful that I didn't miss your opera. Fate provided it."
"Fate...."
They had been away 5 years from each other, and they had wanted to say so much, but now they had nothing to speak of in earnest. They continued staring at each other for a long time in silence, just watching. It still gratified Anton, who continued to find Katerina very beautiful. But her charm was nearly extinguished, snuffed out by despair. Not that he hadn't changed himself. Both had begun to dry up.
Anton got up, and began walking around the room in silence. On the piano, he found several scores, maybe 5 or 6.
They were all his music.
"Does your husband know about this?" he showed them to her.
"Yes, because he doesn't know you in relation to me. I've bought every single work you've published, even from my father. I play them all the time, and... sing them."
"You've learned to sing?"
"Yes, I've been taking lessons."
Anton slowly took out one from the stack.
"Will you sing this?" he showed her his op. 17.
Katerina stood up holding the vocal score, and Anton sat at the piano to accompany her. She went to the 3rd Romance, the Dream, by Pushkin, and sang it in Russian.

_Not long ago, in a charming dream,
I saw myself -- a king with crown's treasure;
I was in love with you, it seemed,
And heart was beating with a pleasure.
I sang my passion's song by your enchanting knees.
Why, dreams, you didn't prolong my happiness forever?
But gods deprived me not of whole their favor:
I only lost the kingdom of my dreams._

Her voice was soft and still amateur, but it had a unique warmth to it. Anton could feel the atmosphere of the room brighten immediately with her voice. Katerina still displayed a true sense of musicality.
Anton had tears in his eyes when he finished.
"You sing beautifully..."
"Thank you. I've... never sung it in Russian for anyone, just for myself. I sing it in German for my husband, who never is really amused. He doesn't like Pushkin."
"His loss. That was my favorite poem... I... I wrote this, this song cycle for you, as a personal message. I always hoped you knew... that this was what I always thought of you."
"And I had the same thoughts. I did know," Katerina smiled, but spoke very sorrowfully. "I wish to sing one more though... the 4th."
If the Dream was the most dearest to Anton, the Night was the dearest to Katerina.
_
My voice that is for you the languid one, and gentle,
Disturbs the velvet of the dark night's mantle,
By my bedside, a candle, my sad guard,
Burns, and my poems ripple and merge in flood --
And run the streams of love, run, full of you alone,
And in the dark, your eyes shine like the precious stones,
And smile to me, and hear I the voice:_

Katerina turned from her notes, and stared Anton straight in the eyes for the last line.

_My friend, my sweetest friend... I love... I'm yours... I'm yours!_

As the final chord faded, Anton stood up and embraced Katerina with a passionate kiss. She dropped her score and melted in his arms...

It was a bitterly cold night, the coldest time of the year, but Katerina's home became heaven on earth for Anton. He would have stayed there forever if he could, but he knew the consequences he would have if he was found there, trespassing on the property. He parted tearfully from her early in the morning before any servants arrived.
"What have I done?" he asked to himself walking alone through the cold dawn. "Have I gone too far? Have I ruined the dream that I had...? No... it was already dashed. And now I won't see her again," he broke out in sobs at the thought. "Oh God have mercy on me this night! I will never touch another woman as long as I live! But I pray that Katerina is safe and will not be punished. Not for my sake, but her's."
But Anton remembered one thought. Katerina still loved him. And he could, and did, communicate with his music to her. It was as much as he could do. It was all he could hold onto, as he continued to wait in agony for a change.
For once in his life, he had a new reason to keep composing.


----------

