e associations of the subject. This he could not
have done with a free hand had he been bound down to the set forms of the
Mass.

After a brief but majestic instrumental introduction, the voices enter
upon the "Requiem,"--a beautiful and solemn strain. The movement is built
upon three melodies set to the words, "Requiem aeternam," "Tu decet
Hymnus," and the "Kyrie," the accompaniment of which is very descriptive
and characteristic. The "Kyrie" is specially impressive, the chant of the
sopranos being answered by the tenors and basses in unison, and the whole
closing with a dirge-like movement by the orchestra.

The "Dies Irae" is the most spirited as well as impressive number of the
work. It is intensely dramatic in its effects, indeed it might be called
theatrical. Berlioz seems to have fairly exhausted the resources of
instruments to produce the feeling of awful sublimity and overwhelming
power, even to the verge of the most daring eccentricity and, as one
prominent critic expressed it, "terrible cataclysms." The first part of
the "Dies Irae" will always be remarkable for the orchestral arrangement.
After the climax of the motive, "Quantus tremor est futurus," there is a
pause which is significant by its very silence; it is the hush before the
storm. Suddenly from either angle of the stage or hall, in addition to
the principal orchestra in front, four smaller bands of trombones,
trumpets, and tubas crash in with overwhelming power in the announcement
of the terrors of the day of judgment. The effect is like that of peal
upon peal of thunder. At its culmination the bass voices enter in unison
upon the words, "Tuba mirum," in the midst of another orchestral storm,
which is still further heightened by an unusual number of kettledrums.
From the beginning to the close, this part of the "Dies Irae" is simply
cyclopean; words cannot describe its overwhelming power. It is a relief
when the storm has passed over, and we come to the next verse ("Quid sum
miser"), for the basses and tenors, though mostly for the first tenors.
It is a breathing spell of quiet delight. It is given in the softest of
tone, and is marked in the score to be sung with "an expression of
humility and awe." It leads to the andante number ("Rex tremendae
majestatis"), which is sung fortissimo throughout, and accompanied with
another tremendous outburst of harmonious thunder in crashing chords,
which continues up to the last eight bars, when the voices drop