nce.

But the struggle is not over, nor is redemption near. The dulcet phrases
sink once more to sombre depth where there is a final, slow-gathering
burst of passion on the motto, with a conclusive ring almost of fierce
triumph.

_II._--The second movement, _Allegro molto_, is a complete change from
introspection and passion to an

[Music: _Allegro molto_
(Insistent strum of strings)
_Marcato_]

abandon as of primitive dance. Strings stir the feet; the horns blow the
first motive of the savage tune; the upper wood fall in with a dashing
jingle,--like a stroke of cymbals across the hostile harmonies.

Whether a recurring idiom is merely personal or belongs to the special
work is difficult to tell. In reality it matters little. Here the
strange rising tone is the same as in the former (second) melody. In
the rude vigor of harmonies the primitive idea is splendidly stressed.

Right in the answer is a guise of short, nervous phrase, that gets a new
touch of bizarre by a leap of the seventh from below. In this figure
that moves throughout the symphony we see an outward symbol of an inner
connection.--Bells soon lend a festive ring to the main tune.

In quieter pace comes a tranquil song of lower voices with a companion
melody above,--all in serene major. Though it grew naturally out of the
rude

[Music: _Molto cantabile_]

dance, the tune has a contrasting charm of idyll and, too, harks back to
the former lyric strains that followed the second melody. When the dance
returns, there is instead of discussion a mere extension of main motive
in full chorus.

But here in the midst the balance is more than restored. From the dance
that ceases abruptly we go straight to school or rather cloister. On our
recurring nervous phrase a fugue is rung with all pomp and ceremony
(_meno mosso_); and of the dance there are mere faint echoing memories,
when the

[Music: _Meno mosso_
(Oboe) _molto marcato_
(Violins) staccato]

fugal text seems for a moment to weave itself into the first tune.

Instead, comes into the midst of sermon a hymnal chant, blown gently by
the brass, while other stray

[Music: _Leggiero_]

voices run lightly on the thread of fugue. There is, indeed, a playful
suggestion of the dance somehow in the air. A final tempest of the
fugue[A] brings us back to the full verse of dance and the following
melodies. But before the end sounds a broad hymnal line in the brass
with a dim thread of the fugue, and th