and
pianissimo with a few bars of the simple, serene, now veiled first
strain."

Rubinstein bore great love for this second Ballade. This is what it
meant for him: "Is it possible that the interpreter does not feel the
necessity of representing to his audience--a field flower caught by a
gust of wind, a caressing of the flower by the wind; the resistance of
the flower, the stormy struggle of the wind; the entreaty of the
flower, which at last lies there broken; and paraphrased--the field
flower a rustic maiden, the wind a knight."

I can find "no lack of affinity" between the andantino and presto. The
surprise is a dramatic one, withal rudely vigorous. Chopin's robust
treatment of the first theme results in a strong piece of craftmanship.
The episodical nature of this Ballade is the fruit of the esoteric
moods of its composer. It follows a hidden story, and has the
quality--as the second Impromptu in F sharp--of great, unpremeditated
art. It shocks one by its abrupt but by no means fantastic transitions.
The key color is changeful, and the fluctuating themes are well
contrasted. It was written at Majorca while the composer was only too
noticeably disturbed in body and soul.

Presto con fuoco Chopin marks the second section. Kullak gives 84 to
the quarter, and for the opening 66 to the quarter. He also wisely
marks crescendos in the bass at the first thematic development. He
prefers the E--as does Klindworth--nine bars before the return of the
presto. At the eighth bar, after this return, Kullak adheres to the E
instead of F at the beginning of the bar, treble clef. Klindworth
indicates both. Nor does Kullak follow Mikuli in using a D in the coda.
He prefers a D sharp, instead of a natural. I wish the second Ballade
were played oftener in public. It is quite neglected for the third in A
flat, which, as Ehlert says, has the voice of the people.

This Ballade, the "Undine" of Mickiewicz, published November, 1841, and
dedicated to Mlle. P. de Noailles, is too well known to analyze. It is
the schoolgirls' delight, who familiarly toy with its demon, seeing
only favor and prettiness in its elegant measures. In it "the refined,
gifted Pole, who is accustomed to move in the most distinguished
circles of the French capital, is pre-eminently to be recognized." Thus
Schumann. Forsooth, it is aristocratic, gay, graceful, piquant, and
also something more. Even in its playful moments there is delicate
irony, a spiritual sporting