and some uneasy sleep. Then
a love scene.... The clock strikes seven in the morning. Everybody wakes
up, and there is a merry discussion. We hear a double fugue in which the
theme of the man and the theme of the woman contradict each other with
exasperating and ludicrous obstinacy; and the man has the last word.
Finally there is the apotheosis of the child and family life.

Such a programme serves rather to lead the listener astray than to guide
him. It spoils the idea of the work by emphasising its anecdotal and
rather comic side. For without doubt the comic side is there, and
Strauss has warned us in vain that he did not wish to make an amusing
picture of married life, but to praise the sacredness of marriage and
parenthood; but he possesses such a strong vein of humour that it cannot
help getting the better of him. There is nothing really grave or
religious about the music, except when he is speaking of the child; and
then the rough merriment of the man grows gentle, and the irritating
coquetry of the woman becomes exquisitely tender. Otherwise Strauss's
satire and love of jesting get the upper hand, and reach an almost epic
gaiety and strength.

But one must forget this unwise programme, which borders on bad taste
and at times on something even worse. When one has succeeded in
forgetting it one discovers a well-proportioned symphony in four
parts--Allegro, Scherzo, Adagio, and Finale in fugue form--and one of
the finest works in contemporary music. It has the passionate
exuberance of Strauss's preceding symphony, _Heldenleben_, but it is
superior in artistic construction; one may even say that it is Strauss's
most perfect work since _Tod und Verklaerung_ ("Death and
Transfiguration"), with a richness of colouring and technical skill that
_Tod und Verklaerung_ did not possess. One is dazzled by the beauty of an
orchestration which is light and pliant, and capable of expressing
delicate shades of feeling; and this struck me the more after the solid
massiveness of Mahler's orchestration, which is like heavy unleavened
bread. With Strauss everything is full of life and sinew, and there is
nothing wasted. Possibly the first setting-out of his themes has rather
too schematic a character; and perhaps the melodic utterance is rather
restricted and not very lofty; but it is very personal, and one finds it
impossible to disassociate his personality from these vigorous themes
that burn with youthful ardour, and cut the air li