"Na--na!" he cried, "Was that F, I ask you? You bellow like bulls! Again--again, I tell you! On the D and approach the note softly.
He stamped his foot in vexation and the baton struck the desk sharply: "Again--the sopranos alone! Hist! Piano--piano I say! Potztausend!"
The chorus glanced at one another sheepishly and a flush crept over the faces of the sopranos. The Kapellmeister was in a bad mood to-day; nothing suited him, and he beat the desk as if he would have liked to strike them all and fling the baton at their heads.
"Sheep!" he said, "Oxen--cows! You have no temperament, no feeling--nothing--nothing! Where are your souls? Haven't you any souls? Don't you hear what I say? Piano! P-i-a-n-o! When I say piano, do I mean forte?"
He shrugged his shoulders, and his eyes flashed scornfully over the stage and the singers. "Now ladies, attention if you please! Look at me--keep your eyes on my baton! Now--piano!"
"Donnerwetter! May the devil take you! Crescendo, I say! Crescendo! Do you need all day to make crescendo?" He shrieked at them; and then, in a tempest of rage, he flung the baton down and leaped from the platform.
"Enough!" he said, "My teeth are on edge; my ears burn! Sit down.--Is Fraulein Neumann here?"
A stout woman in a red blouse stepped timidly forward.
"Oh, you are, are you? Well, Madame, you haven't distinguished yourself so far; perhaps you will do better alone. Have you the score?"
The soprano took a long breath and her cheeks grew red like her blouse. She watched the eyes of the leader, and there was a light in them that she mistrusted, a reddish glimmer that boded evil to any who crossed him.
"Your voice quavers like a jews'-harp. What's the matter with you?"
"I don't know, Herr Kapellmeister, it was all right when I tried it this morning."
The soprano bit her lips: "I am doing my best, Herr Kapellmeister," she said, "It is very difficult to take that high A without the orchestra." Her tone was slightly defiant, but she dropped her eyes when he stared at her.
"Humph!" he said, "Very difficult! You expect the orchestra to cover your shake I suppose. Go home and study it, Madame. Siegfried would listen in vain for a bird if you were in the flies. He would never recognize that--pah!" He waved his hand: