Restraint Soundtrack
Mar. 4th, 2011 05:26 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
layne67For the J2 fanfic Restraint by Dark Emeralds.
With the exception of the two numbers by Cecilia Bartoli, all tracks are from the OST of Casanova.
Warning : Contains huge spoilers for the story!
Restraint Soundtrack Zip Download
ETA: New download link - here at Mediafire. Thank you![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
setra!
Cover design byala_tariel from the lovely art made by owzers.
1.‘A Big Idea' Harpsicord Concerto In B Flat.
Chapter 2: In Which Mr Acklebury Receives a Summons
Mrs Danforth rose from her couch. "Well, I am your friend, in any case, and I must do what I can to lift your spirits!" she said brightly. "I think you ought to have your portrait done." She indicated the large and handsome portrait of herself that dominated her drawing-room, and that had, with its author, lately been the talk of London. In this, her pretty brown curls and roguish smile, her white skin, and most of her bosom, were amply on display, framed by a near-transparent drapery that stood about her shoulders in stiff folds. She held this garment closed and stepped toward the viewer, one shapely white leg protruding almost entirely from the opening in the material.
His lordship said, "Lizzie! You scandalous minx. You look as if you have risen to answer a secret knock at your bedchamber door!"
She dimpled. "It is wonderful, is it not? Do you not think it would be amusing to get one like it?"
"I do not have a shocking dressing-gown," his lordship said. "And what on earth has this to do with my want of friends?"
"Oh, nothing," replied Mrs Danforth in airy tones. "Only, it will be some amusement for you to have it done. I will ask the General to write down the artist's direction for you. His name is John Acklebury. He is a very staid sort of man, and I know how much you dislike dull people, but do not regard it. He paints wonderfully."
*
2. 'Dancing At The Doge's Ball' Rigaudon From Water Music Suite, No- 3
Chapter 3: In Which Viscount Penrith Closes a Door
Mrs Harcourt's ball was a crush by the time Lord Penrith arrived, just before eleven o'clock. He stopped at the head of the short set of stairs leading down into the crowded ballroom, and from this vantage point, he did not instantly perceive anybody he cared to speak to. It was unpleasantly warm, as ballrooms generally were, with vast numbers of people dancing, and hundreds of candles. The orchestra was playing a quadrille, though it was hard to hear above the din of so many conversations.
Dancing, ordinarily a pastime that Lord Penrith enjoyed well enough, tonight seemed the dullest thing in creation. Everyone was dressed alike, ladies in pale, fluttery gowns with silly things in their hair, just so much merchandise on display in a shop window; gentlemen in black and white, making the polite gestures that allowed them to pretend they were not simply examining the female goods. The transaction seemed to Penrith unspeakably tawdry and insipid. He wondered that he had not remarked it before.
When had he stopped enjoying balls and parties? He could remember laughter, and rooms nearly as crowded as this one, and something like enjoyment, from those unwholesome days at Cambridge before he had come to his senses. It had been only a counterfeit of happiness, a submersion of his grief in gambling, and drink, and sensuality, and though he had no wish to return to such things, or to such friends, he missed the society.
*
3. 'A Great Escape' Overture From Zaïs
Chapter 4: In Which Two Gentlemen Are Seen to Gallop in Hyde Park
As if he had read Acklebury's thoughts, Lord Penrith cleared his throat and said in brighter tones, "Well! It appears we are before the crowds. How would you like to run?" Without waiting for Mr Acklebury's response, he touched his heels to Lucifer's flanks and galloped off toward the copse at the centre of the park. Queen Mab was only too ready to open up and run after her companion, and responded instantly to Acklebury's command. He had not often galloped, and knew a moment's trepidation, but Queen Mab's gait was smooth and he managed not to discredit himself.
Lucifer thundered ahead, chunks of damp turf flying from his hooves, Lord Penrith lying over his head, his knees gripping the horse's flanks, his body barely touching the saddle. Acklebury was glad to be in his lordship's wake, partly so his own mediocre skills as a horseman would be less apparent, and partly because it afforded him an excellent view of his lordship's fine riding form.
He and Queen Mab caught up with Lord Penrith when he reined Lucifer in at the edge of the Round Pond. Lord Penrith appeared breathless, his cheeks flushed and his eyes alight, his hair escaping from its tie, and Acklebury was seized by the desire to paint him just so, to capture this moment. Here was disarray! he thought, and in it, perfect order, for Lord Penrith was at one with his horse, and the earth, and the chilly, wild spring air, fierce and delighted and utterly himself.
The late afternoon sun rebounded from the darkening wall of cloud to the east, casting a vivid, almost lurid glow over all that it touched. The turf was impossibly green, the surface of the Round Pond nearly black, Lord Penrith's waistcoat a burnished bronze, the signet ring he wore a heavy, dense gold. The light made everything flat and immediate, reminding Acklebury vividly of gold-encrusted Byzantine religious icons he had seen in Venice, but for the lively, decidedly unsaintly expression upon Lord Penrith's face.
*
4.'Nel cor piu non mi sento' Cecilia Bartoli
Chapter 13: In Which Signorina Moretti Sings of Love
The music began, and Penrith, though he considered himself no judge of the art, found it pleasing enough. Signorina Moretti sang lightly, and with many smiles, and even plied her fan like a Spanish lady during the first air.
"She accuses love of tormenting her," Acklebury whispered to him. Penrith had to lean down to hear him. "'You tease me, you pinch me, you poke me, you bite me!' she sings. 'What tortures...it is all your fault.' etcetera, etcetera."
Penrith nodded. To judge from the light, rather jocular melody of the song, the listener was not meant to believe the singer displeased with her torment.
For each air the lady sang, Penrith was obliged to bend close to Acklebury to hear the quiet translations he offered, and in this way he discovered within himself a hitherto unsuspected taste for Italian songs of the previous century.
When Signorina Moretti came to a particularly moving passage, Acklebury, still apparently lost in his more Italian persona, rested against the door-frame and closed his eyes, a crease appearing between his brows, almost as if the music caused him pain. He seemed, in any case, to feel it deeply. Penrith did not attend to the music himself any great effort, preferring to imagine Acklebury in Venice, where he had evidently been very popular indeed.
*
5.'Pur dicesti, o bocca bella' Cecilia Bartoli
Chapter 13: In Which Signorina Moretti Sings of Love
The accompanist rose, bowed, cleared his throat and spoke in heavily accented English. "Signorina Moretti wish to sing a special song for her friend, il Signor Pittore."
Penrith looked from the accompanist to Acklebury. One or two of the guests turned to see for whom the warm glances, and presumably the song, were intended. Penrith was beginning to think that the Italian lady had indeed been Acklebury's lover, and though he found that he did not like the notion, he thought that if others should arrive at a similar conclusion from her dedication of a song to him, it might prevent any more such insolence as Townsend had displayed to John last week.
The pianoforte made a lengthy introduction, and Miss Moretti stepped forward, her pale blue draperies floating about her. With a dazzling smile at Acklebury, she began to sing.
*
6. ‘I Yield To Love' Cello Concerto No- 3 In D Minor
Chapter 18: In Which Mr Acklebury Surveys Lord Penrith's Domain
"So perhaps you can tell me why you are here. It is a question only you can answer." Penrith stood now with his arms folded over his chest.
"Do you not already know?" Acklebury asked. "I have not known a moment's peace since I met you. I have fought...God! how I have fought my nature. I came because I have stopped fighting." He said, "I want to be here, Penrith. I came because I was finding life very dull without you." He took a step and closed the distance between them. "I came because ever since the day you were shot, I have thought of little other than kissing you again."
*
7. ‘A Venetian Virgin'
Chapter 19: In Which Restraint Is Lost
Acklebury felt himself blushing, partly at what Penrith must be referring to, and partly at his own ignorance upon the matter. That so much of what he had wondered about might soon be opened to him set his heart racing.
"What of you, Acklebury?" Penrith asked. He still spoke lightly, gazing out at the night, seeming to pay more attention to the brandy in his glass than to the import of his words. "You lived in Italy for a long time. You cannot have been without friends there."
Acklebury considered his next words carefully. "One or two," he said hesitantly. He did not wish to convey anything false, but he was uncomfortably aware that in intimate matters his experience was scant, and little to the point. "But none who taught me how to be a worthy guest here. For that, I am afraid, I must fall back on your forbearance."
It must have been an acceptable thing to say, for though Acklebury did not dare to look directly at Penrith, he thought he heard a smile in Penrith's voice as he murmured, "Oh, you need have no worries. I can show you how to go on."
*
8. ‘All's Well---' Concerto A 5, Op- 9 No- 4 In A
Chapter 21: In Which John Sings an Italian Air
Tristan was delighted to discover that he wished John at his side as much during the bright, busy hours of the day as during the secret hours of the night. He could admit to himself that some worries upon this head had assailed him before John's arrival, for although he knew John to be excellent company in London, there was not as much to do in the country, and Tristan had feared John's boredom, or his own.
He need not have worried. Once they had come to an accord after the little quarrel that had marked their first morning together, the atmosphere at Ravensworth became very easy. Putting together all he now knew of him, Tristan perceived that John's greatest need was to be allowed the free expression of his nature. Affection toward another man was the most novel part of that expression, but it was not, Tristan realised, the whole of it. John needed more time than Tristan did to discover his own feelings and tease out the strands of his own thoughts. Tristan began to see that John's propriety did not spring from any sense of superior self-discipline, but from a wish never to put a foot wrong. John, for all of his adventures in a foreign land, needed to feel at home.
So Tristan exhorted John to treat Ravensworth as his own house, and was pleased when John took him at his word, declining what he did not care to do, asking for what he needed, and generally making free of the house without ceremony. The disrepair of Ravensworth, far from annoying John, seemed to give him the permission he required to be informal. He was in every particular an ideal guest.
*
9. 'Eternal Damnation' Overture From Les Fêtes De Polymnie
Chapter 22: In Which His Lordship Has a Close Shave
It was a copy of the New Testament, cheaply bound in cloth and pasteboard. A quick glance inside the cover revealed no owner's name. A torn strip of paper marked a place, and when John opened the volume there, it was clear that the page was well-worn and told over many times: 1st Corinthians, Chapter VI.
He had no need to read it closely, for he had been made to memorise great swaths of Holy Scripture in his childhood. "Be not deceived." John could hear his father reciting those words along with him in the days following the incident with Robby, the Bishop's young footman. "Neither fornicators, nor adulterers, nor idolators, nor catamites, nor sodomites..." oh, how the list went on! Liars and thieves, extortioners and drunkards, all were equal in St Paul's sight, and all equally ineligible to receive God's reward.
*
10. ‘My Place Is With Tristan' Overture From Le Temple De La Gloire
Chapter 26: In Which John Remembers What He Has Forgotten
His conversation at breakfast came plunging back into his mind; with sudden shame, he saw what he had asked for--what he had offered!--not as the great thing he felt it to be, but as a trifle. Tristan's confidence in speaking of the act, so reassuring to John two hours ago, now seemed to mock him in his inexperience, and make light of the act. It struck John with the force of a blow to realise that Charles Murray, that overdressed popinjay with his arrogant, lazy manners, must already know Tristan in that way.
The idea was so lowering that for a long and terrible moment, John could scarcely bear the pressure of his own clothes against his skin. He wanted to rise and run, he wanted to lie down in the grass and never get up, he wanted to shout, he wanted to sink silently away. Then he became angry.
Anger was a sentiment that John sometimes pretended he was not subject to. He was accustomed to ignoring it, to talking himself out of feeling it, and he could not remember when it had ever felt as powerful as it felt now. Anger sparked in his mind and clarified his thoughts marvellously; it stiffened his back and filled his heart, and he wondered, as he rose and brushed bits of dried grass from his coat and trousers, how he could have been so meek and yielding before Murray. Why, he had given Murray no reason at all to think that Tristan was taken up with someone new. Murray might be forgiven for supposing John Acklebury to be merely a casual visitor to Tristan's estate.
Well, he could do nothing about that now, but he would be damned, he decided, if he would concede his own present happiness without any fight at all.
*
11. 'A Terrible Mistake' Concerto A 5, Op- 9, No- 4
Chapter 26: In Which John Remembers What He Has Forgotten
In only a few minutes, his lordship was asleep, a gentle snore issuing from his throat and causing a surprisingly soothing vibration in John's temple. John smiled to himself and decided that though he ought to tidy himself up a bit, that task could wait until morning.
He was startled awake sometime deep in the night by the realisation that he had left his best French pastels out of doors that morning. He was under the blankets, he noticed, and Tristan was lying beside him. "What is it?" Tristan muttered, and for a moment John could only marvel at the intimacy that made Tristan rouse from his own sleep at John's silent waking.
"Nothing, Tris. I'm sorry. Go back to sleep." It was a clear night, John told himself. If a few of the leaves of his sketching block were warped by the dew, it was no matter, and his colours would be protected until morning by their good wooden case. No one would steal such a thing. It was odd, what worries came in the night.
*
12.‘An Untold Story' Assaggio No- 1in G MinorI
Chapter 30: In Which Circumstances Tax the Ingenuity of Two Ardent Young Men
Before his eager steps could take him into Mayfair, John was forced to pause in his walk to allow the passage first of a troop of the King's Guard then of a pair of fine coaches along Great Cumberland Place. As he stood waiting by the side of the busy road, his breath slowing and the cool October air making itself apparent upon his face, a curious sensation came over him. For a moment everything about him seemed to slow, and grow quiet. The thundering of the horses' hooves, the call of the sergeant of the guard, the rumble of the carriages' wheels, the crack of the coachman's whip, all faded from John's hearing, and he stood silent and still, as if in a daze. Someone jostled his shoulder in stepping out into the road, but he scarcely noticed.
I am changed, he thought, and nobody knows it. He could not have found words to describe what he felt, but into his mind came an image in which all of London was receding, flying away from him in every direction with a great rushing of sound and a blur of faded colour, while he stood on this street corner, unmoving and vivid, golden and warm, and as full of sweetness as a pear on an autumn bough, truly alive for the first time in his life. A cord of fire tugged at his heart, and at its other end was Tristan. It did not matter whether Tristan was a mile away in Half Moon Street or a world away; in that long, resonating moment, John thought it would not matter whether Tristan were in this world at all; he would still feel the pull of that cord.
As if coming suddenly back to life, the city crashed into tumult around him again, and John shook his head to clear it. Even before the exhilaration of his vision began to wane, he felt a pang of sorrow, for that new colour, that succulence and round fullness, had been brought into his life by what must remain forever hidden, unspoken, and celebrated only in dark and secret places, and he did not know if he could bear it.
*
13. 'A Secret Lover' Opera Farnace.
Chapter 30: In Which Circumstances Tax the Ingenuity of Two Ardent Young Men
He was not unhappy; on the contrary, he was at pains to keep a besotted and daydreaming look from overtaking his features at every moment. The thrilling game of secrecy which he had learnt to play with Tristan in the country became ten times more demanding, for life in crowded, busy, gossiping London imposed a heavy tax on the ingenuity of two young men who wished to satisfy their desire for one another's company.
They must guard their eyes, their hands, and even their speech, and remember to call one another only "Penrith" and "Acklebury" lest some accidental warmth give anyone evidence from which to look at them more closely and perhaps draw damning conclusions. In London as in the country, Tristan was sometimes so good at appearing merely civil that doubts assailed John, and only the feeling of Tristan's hardest embraces and roughest caresses, lingering in his skin long afterwards, let him be easy again.
*
14. 'Tristan's Confession' Sonata Op- 5 No- 7 In D Minor
Chapter 32: In Which Secrecy Is Undone
Tristan pulled John close, enveloped him in his arms again so that John would not see the weakening of his self-control. As Tristan held him, all of John's earlier warmth and pliancy palpably drained away, to be replaced by a wary rigidity. Tristan took a deep breath, summoned his courage, and drew back, forcing himself to look John in the eye. "I have been concealing something from you," he said. "I am sorry. It is very bad."
John's shock at learning what Tristan had been withholding from him for nearly nine months kept him silent throughout Tristan's miserable recital. He was not aware of having risen to pace about the library until he found himself standing before his portrait of Tristan, staring unseeing at its magnificence.
When Tristan at last fell silent and waited for him to speak, John could not find the words by which he might begin to express a coherent thought. Into the lengthening silence, Tristan said in a voice that was strangely timid, "I ought to have spoken much sooner."
*
15. 'Tristan's Arrival' Concerto A 5, Op- 9 No- 2 In D Minor
Chapter 35: In Which Tristan Is Not There To See The Lions
As they ate, conversing indifferently and rather sleepily, John became little by little more aware of sounds from the courtyard below indicating the arrival of a party that was either rather large or very important, for the ostlers were shouting instructions to one another, and the heavy conveyance that had arrived was pulled by what sounded like six horses.
The voice of an English servant came through the windows, saying sharply, "Mind you go careful with 'is lordship's trunk!" This was followed by a quieter male voice whose words John could not make out, but whose tone was clearly intended to be soothing. There was a pause, and then, "Very good, my lord." John's interest in the proceedings below increased. He had missed the sound of English voices, and these were London voices, making him suddenly more homesick than he had yet been.
*
16. 'With My Hopes' Concerto A 5, Op- 9 No- 4
Chapter 38: In Which the Pears of Languedoc Ripen
Tristan slid from his seat and, to John's considerable discomfiture, went to his knees next to John's chair, still clasping his hand. "When I solicited Alexandra's hand in marriage," he said, looking up into John's eyes, "I could not bring myself to speak of love--only of honour, and benefit, and need. Let me speak of love now. Please, John, do not say no."
John could do no more than nod. He felt his face burning with a tumult of emotions, all of them wildly clamouring for expression that went against his nature. The pressure was tremendous; he felt he might burst with it.
Tristan pressed his lips to John's hand and said, "I love you, John. I am strong, and happy, and--and good when you are by my side. We cannot always be together, but if I knew that our parting would always be temporary, that we would always agree to meet again, and--and to be true friends to one another, and to be at hand with help and kindness for each other when the world cannot know our troubles...well, then I can live with whatever else I must." Tristan's expression was imploring.
"Tristan," John whispered. He put a hand to Tristan's cheek. "Once upon a time, all of those things were true for me. I did not think they needed to be said."
Tristan's brow creased. "And now? Do you think they can ever be true again?"
John slid from his own chair and onto his knees before Tristan, catching up both of his hands. "Yes," he said. "I do."
*
17. 'One Step Closer To Heaven' Conceto A 5, Op- 9 No- 4
Chapter 38: In Which the Pears of Languedoc Ripen
Every rational faculty urged restraint and careful thought, but that barrier was held together by nothing more than will and habit, and John could sense the light, the freedom of spirit, that lay just behind it. With a breath, he let it go, and as it disintegrated, life seemed to rush in like fresh air, waking him, reviving him. "Only give me yours," he answered.
Tristan looked once more into John's eyes, his expression grateful and eager. He squeezed John's hands more firmly and said, "I promise. I promise that though we must sometimes be parted, I will always come back to you, and always love you, and always stand your friend, and do all in my power to help you, to--to come to your aid when you need me and seek your help and counsel when I need you, and be as faithful to our friendship as life permits me to be, and--"
John cut him off. "I require no more." He longed to laugh, to smooth Tristan's silly hair back, but the sudden, strange solemnity of the occasion wove a spell around them, and John scarcely dared to move. "I make you the same promise," he said. Dimly aware that they were kneeling on the dining room carpet, John gazed at Tristan's face, and felt at once five years old and a hundred, afraid to break the silence as if he were a child in church, and yet infinitely wise and patiently waiting for the moment to run its course.
*
18. 'Marriage Is A Safe Haven' Concerto A 5, Op- 9 No- 4
Chapter 41: In Which the Map of Life's Journey is Drawn
10 Half Moon Street
20th April, 1822
My dear Acklebury,
Please allow me to felicitate you upon your engagement to Miss Georgina Jennings. I take the liberty of telling you that I have found the married state to ease many of life's difficulties, and to settle much that was formerly unsettled. Miss Jennings, by all accounts, is a young woman of considerable wit and elegance of mind, which I know will suit you; one needs no informants to know how lovely she is, for one has only to look to see beauty, refinement, and taste. It is proper, I know, to say that you have done very well, sir! Perhaps I am prejudiced, but I cannot help thinking that it is Miss Jennings who has done very well, for she has secured the esteem of my dearest friend.
Mr. Poiriers asks me to send you his best regards, and informs me that he will be staying at the Royal George in Westminster during his next visit, on the 27th.
Again, sir, on the occasion of your betrothal, please accept my most heartfelt congratulations.
Yours
Penrith
With the exception of the two numbers by Cecilia Bartoli, all tracks are from the OST of Casanova.
Warning : Contains huge spoilers for the story!
Restraint Soundtrack Zip Download
ETA: New download link - here at Mediafire. Thank you
setra!
Cover design by
ala_tariel from the lovely art made by owzers.1.‘A Big Idea' Harpsicord Concerto In B Flat.
Chapter 2: In Which Mr Acklebury Receives a Summons
Mrs Danforth rose from her couch. "Well, I am your friend, in any case, and I must do what I can to lift your spirits!" she said brightly. "I think you ought to have your portrait done." She indicated the large and handsome portrait of herself that dominated her drawing-room, and that had, with its author, lately been the talk of London. In this, her pretty brown curls and roguish smile, her white skin, and most of her bosom, were amply on display, framed by a near-transparent drapery that stood about her shoulders in stiff folds. She held this garment closed and stepped toward the viewer, one shapely white leg protruding almost entirely from the opening in the material.
His lordship said, "Lizzie! You scandalous minx. You look as if you have risen to answer a secret knock at your bedchamber door!"
She dimpled. "It is wonderful, is it not? Do you not think it would be amusing to get one like it?"
"I do not have a shocking dressing-gown," his lordship said. "And what on earth has this to do with my want of friends?"
"Oh, nothing," replied Mrs Danforth in airy tones. "Only, it will be some amusement for you to have it done. I will ask the General to write down the artist's direction for you. His name is John Acklebury. He is a very staid sort of man, and I know how much you dislike dull people, but do not regard it. He paints wonderfully."
*
2. 'Dancing At The Doge's Ball' Rigaudon From Water Music Suite, No- 3
Chapter 3: In Which Viscount Penrith Closes a Door
Mrs Harcourt's ball was a crush by the time Lord Penrith arrived, just before eleven o'clock. He stopped at the head of the short set of stairs leading down into the crowded ballroom, and from this vantage point, he did not instantly perceive anybody he cared to speak to. It was unpleasantly warm, as ballrooms generally were, with vast numbers of people dancing, and hundreds of candles. The orchestra was playing a quadrille, though it was hard to hear above the din of so many conversations.
Dancing, ordinarily a pastime that Lord Penrith enjoyed well enough, tonight seemed the dullest thing in creation. Everyone was dressed alike, ladies in pale, fluttery gowns with silly things in their hair, just so much merchandise on display in a shop window; gentlemen in black and white, making the polite gestures that allowed them to pretend they were not simply examining the female goods. The transaction seemed to Penrith unspeakably tawdry and insipid. He wondered that he had not remarked it before.
When had he stopped enjoying balls and parties? He could remember laughter, and rooms nearly as crowded as this one, and something like enjoyment, from those unwholesome days at Cambridge before he had come to his senses. It had been only a counterfeit of happiness, a submersion of his grief in gambling, and drink, and sensuality, and though he had no wish to return to such things, or to such friends, he missed the society.
*
3. 'A Great Escape' Overture From Zaïs
Chapter 4: In Which Two Gentlemen Are Seen to Gallop in Hyde Park
As if he had read Acklebury's thoughts, Lord Penrith cleared his throat and said in brighter tones, "Well! It appears we are before the crowds. How would you like to run?" Without waiting for Mr Acklebury's response, he touched his heels to Lucifer's flanks and galloped off toward the copse at the centre of the park. Queen Mab was only too ready to open up and run after her companion, and responded instantly to Acklebury's command. He had not often galloped, and knew a moment's trepidation, but Queen Mab's gait was smooth and he managed not to discredit himself.
Lucifer thundered ahead, chunks of damp turf flying from his hooves, Lord Penrith lying over his head, his knees gripping the horse's flanks, his body barely touching the saddle. Acklebury was glad to be in his lordship's wake, partly so his own mediocre skills as a horseman would be less apparent, and partly because it afforded him an excellent view of his lordship's fine riding form.
He and Queen Mab caught up with Lord Penrith when he reined Lucifer in at the edge of the Round Pond. Lord Penrith appeared breathless, his cheeks flushed and his eyes alight, his hair escaping from its tie, and Acklebury was seized by the desire to paint him just so, to capture this moment. Here was disarray! he thought, and in it, perfect order, for Lord Penrith was at one with his horse, and the earth, and the chilly, wild spring air, fierce and delighted and utterly himself.
The late afternoon sun rebounded from the darkening wall of cloud to the east, casting a vivid, almost lurid glow over all that it touched. The turf was impossibly green, the surface of the Round Pond nearly black, Lord Penrith's waistcoat a burnished bronze, the signet ring he wore a heavy, dense gold. The light made everything flat and immediate, reminding Acklebury vividly of gold-encrusted Byzantine religious icons he had seen in Venice, but for the lively, decidedly unsaintly expression upon Lord Penrith's face.
*
4.'Nel cor piu non mi sento' Cecilia Bartoli
Chapter 13: In Which Signorina Moretti Sings of Love
The music began, and Penrith, though he considered himself no judge of the art, found it pleasing enough. Signorina Moretti sang lightly, and with many smiles, and even plied her fan like a Spanish lady during the first air.
"She accuses love of tormenting her," Acklebury whispered to him. Penrith had to lean down to hear him. "'You tease me, you pinch me, you poke me, you bite me!' she sings. 'What tortures...it is all your fault.' etcetera, etcetera."
Penrith nodded. To judge from the light, rather jocular melody of the song, the listener was not meant to believe the singer displeased with her torment.
For each air the lady sang, Penrith was obliged to bend close to Acklebury to hear the quiet translations he offered, and in this way he discovered within himself a hitherto unsuspected taste for Italian songs of the previous century.
When Signorina Moretti came to a particularly moving passage, Acklebury, still apparently lost in his more Italian persona, rested against the door-frame and closed his eyes, a crease appearing between his brows, almost as if the music caused him pain. He seemed, in any case, to feel it deeply. Penrith did not attend to the music himself any great effort, preferring to imagine Acklebury in Venice, where he had evidently been very popular indeed.
*
5.'Pur dicesti, o bocca bella' Cecilia Bartoli
Chapter 13: In Which Signorina Moretti Sings of Love
The accompanist rose, bowed, cleared his throat and spoke in heavily accented English. "Signorina Moretti wish to sing a special song for her friend, il Signor Pittore."
Penrith looked from the accompanist to Acklebury. One or two of the guests turned to see for whom the warm glances, and presumably the song, were intended. Penrith was beginning to think that the Italian lady had indeed been Acklebury's lover, and though he found that he did not like the notion, he thought that if others should arrive at a similar conclusion from her dedication of a song to him, it might prevent any more such insolence as Townsend had displayed to John last week.
The pianoforte made a lengthy introduction, and Miss Moretti stepped forward, her pale blue draperies floating about her. With a dazzling smile at Acklebury, she began to sing.
*
6. ‘I Yield To Love' Cello Concerto No- 3 In D Minor
Chapter 18: In Which Mr Acklebury Surveys Lord Penrith's Domain
"So perhaps you can tell me why you are here. It is a question only you can answer." Penrith stood now with his arms folded over his chest.
"Do you not already know?" Acklebury asked. "I have not known a moment's peace since I met you. I have fought...God! how I have fought my nature. I came because I have stopped fighting." He said, "I want to be here, Penrith. I came because I was finding life very dull without you." He took a step and closed the distance between them. "I came because ever since the day you were shot, I have thought of little other than kissing you again."
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7. ‘A Venetian Virgin'
Chapter 19: In Which Restraint Is Lost
Acklebury felt himself blushing, partly at what Penrith must be referring to, and partly at his own ignorance upon the matter. That so much of what he had wondered about might soon be opened to him set his heart racing.
"What of you, Acklebury?" Penrith asked. He still spoke lightly, gazing out at the night, seeming to pay more attention to the brandy in his glass than to the import of his words. "You lived in Italy for a long time. You cannot have been without friends there."
Acklebury considered his next words carefully. "One or two," he said hesitantly. He did not wish to convey anything false, but he was uncomfortably aware that in intimate matters his experience was scant, and little to the point. "But none who taught me how to be a worthy guest here. For that, I am afraid, I must fall back on your forbearance."
It must have been an acceptable thing to say, for though Acklebury did not dare to look directly at Penrith, he thought he heard a smile in Penrith's voice as he murmured, "Oh, you need have no worries. I can show you how to go on."
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8. ‘All's Well---' Concerto A 5, Op- 9 No- 4 In A
Chapter 21: In Which John Sings an Italian Air
Tristan was delighted to discover that he wished John at his side as much during the bright, busy hours of the day as during the secret hours of the night. He could admit to himself that some worries upon this head had assailed him before John's arrival, for although he knew John to be excellent company in London, there was not as much to do in the country, and Tristan had feared John's boredom, or his own.
He need not have worried. Once they had come to an accord after the little quarrel that had marked their first morning together, the atmosphere at Ravensworth became very easy. Putting together all he now knew of him, Tristan perceived that John's greatest need was to be allowed the free expression of his nature. Affection toward another man was the most novel part of that expression, but it was not, Tristan realised, the whole of it. John needed more time than Tristan did to discover his own feelings and tease out the strands of his own thoughts. Tristan began to see that John's propriety did not spring from any sense of superior self-discipline, but from a wish never to put a foot wrong. John, for all of his adventures in a foreign land, needed to feel at home.
So Tristan exhorted John to treat Ravensworth as his own house, and was pleased when John took him at his word, declining what he did not care to do, asking for what he needed, and generally making free of the house without ceremony. The disrepair of Ravensworth, far from annoying John, seemed to give him the permission he required to be informal. He was in every particular an ideal guest.
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9. 'Eternal Damnation' Overture From Les Fêtes De Polymnie
Chapter 22: In Which His Lordship Has a Close Shave
It was a copy of the New Testament, cheaply bound in cloth and pasteboard. A quick glance inside the cover revealed no owner's name. A torn strip of paper marked a place, and when John opened the volume there, it was clear that the page was well-worn and told over many times: 1st Corinthians, Chapter VI.
He had no need to read it closely, for he had been made to memorise great swaths of Holy Scripture in his childhood. "Be not deceived." John could hear his father reciting those words along with him in the days following the incident with Robby, the Bishop's young footman. "Neither fornicators, nor adulterers, nor idolators, nor catamites, nor sodomites..." oh, how the list went on! Liars and thieves, extortioners and drunkards, all were equal in St Paul's sight, and all equally ineligible to receive God's reward.
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10. ‘My Place Is With Tristan' Overture From Le Temple De La Gloire
Chapter 26: In Which John Remembers What He Has Forgotten
His conversation at breakfast came plunging back into his mind; with sudden shame, he saw what he had asked for--what he had offered!--not as the great thing he felt it to be, but as a trifle. Tristan's confidence in speaking of the act, so reassuring to John two hours ago, now seemed to mock him in his inexperience, and make light of the act. It struck John with the force of a blow to realise that Charles Murray, that overdressed popinjay with his arrogant, lazy manners, must already know Tristan in that way.
The idea was so lowering that for a long and terrible moment, John could scarcely bear the pressure of his own clothes against his skin. He wanted to rise and run, he wanted to lie down in the grass and never get up, he wanted to shout, he wanted to sink silently away. Then he became angry.
Anger was a sentiment that John sometimes pretended he was not subject to. He was accustomed to ignoring it, to talking himself out of feeling it, and he could not remember when it had ever felt as powerful as it felt now. Anger sparked in his mind and clarified his thoughts marvellously; it stiffened his back and filled his heart, and he wondered, as he rose and brushed bits of dried grass from his coat and trousers, how he could have been so meek and yielding before Murray. Why, he had given Murray no reason at all to think that Tristan was taken up with someone new. Murray might be forgiven for supposing John Acklebury to be merely a casual visitor to Tristan's estate.
Well, he could do nothing about that now, but he would be damned, he decided, if he would concede his own present happiness without any fight at all.
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11. 'A Terrible Mistake' Concerto A 5, Op- 9, No- 4
Chapter 26: In Which John Remembers What He Has Forgotten
In only a few minutes, his lordship was asleep, a gentle snore issuing from his throat and causing a surprisingly soothing vibration in John's temple. John smiled to himself and decided that though he ought to tidy himself up a bit, that task could wait until morning.
He was startled awake sometime deep in the night by the realisation that he had left his best French pastels out of doors that morning. He was under the blankets, he noticed, and Tristan was lying beside him. "What is it?" Tristan muttered, and for a moment John could only marvel at the intimacy that made Tristan rouse from his own sleep at John's silent waking.
"Nothing, Tris. I'm sorry. Go back to sleep." It was a clear night, John told himself. If a few of the leaves of his sketching block were warped by the dew, it was no matter, and his colours would be protected until morning by their good wooden case. No one would steal such a thing. It was odd, what worries came in the night.
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12.‘An Untold Story' Assaggio No- 1in G MinorI
Chapter 30: In Which Circumstances Tax the Ingenuity of Two Ardent Young Men
Before his eager steps could take him into Mayfair, John was forced to pause in his walk to allow the passage first of a troop of the King's Guard then of a pair of fine coaches along Great Cumberland Place. As he stood waiting by the side of the busy road, his breath slowing and the cool October air making itself apparent upon his face, a curious sensation came over him. For a moment everything about him seemed to slow, and grow quiet. The thundering of the horses' hooves, the call of the sergeant of the guard, the rumble of the carriages' wheels, the crack of the coachman's whip, all faded from John's hearing, and he stood silent and still, as if in a daze. Someone jostled his shoulder in stepping out into the road, but he scarcely noticed.
I am changed, he thought, and nobody knows it. He could not have found words to describe what he felt, but into his mind came an image in which all of London was receding, flying away from him in every direction with a great rushing of sound and a blur of faded colour, while he stood on this street corner, unmoving and vivid, golden and warm, and as full of sweetness as a pear on an autumn bough, truly alive for the first time in his life. A cord of fire tugged at his heart, and at its other end was Tristan. It did not matter whether Tristan was a mile away in Half Moon Street or a world away; in that long, resonating moment, John thought it would not matter whether Tristan were in this world at all; he would still feel the pull of that cord.
As if coming suddenly back to life, the city crashed into tumult around him again, and John shook his head to clear it. Even before the exhilaration of his vision began to wane, he felt a pang of sorrow, for that new colour, that succulence and round fullness, had been brought into his life by what must remain forever hidden, unspoken, and celebrated only in dark and secret places, and he did not know if he could bear it.
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13. 'A Secret Lover' Opera Farnace.
Chapter 30: In Which Circumstances Tax the Ingenuity of Two Ardent Young Men
He was not unhappy; on the contrary, he was at pains to keep a besotted and daydreaming look from overtaking his features at every moment. The thrilling game of secrecy which he had learnt to play with Tristan in the country became ten times more demanding, for life in crowded, busy, gossiping London imposed a heavy tax on the ingenuity of two young men who wished to satisfy their desire for one another's company.
They must guard their eyes, their hands, and even their speech, and remember to call one another only "Penrith" and "Acklebury" lest some accidental warmth give anyone evidence from which to look at them more closely and perhaps draw damning conclusions. In London as in the country, Tristan was sometimes so good at appearing merely civil that doubts assailed John, and only the feeling of Tristan's hardest embraces and roughest caresses, lingering in his skin long afterwards, let him be easy again.
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14. 'Tristan's Confession' Sonata Op- 5 No- 7 In D Minor
Chapter 32: In Which Secrecy Is Undone
Tristan pulled John close, enveloped him in his arms again so that John would not see the weakening of his self-control. As Tristan held him, all of John's earlier warmth and pliancy palpably drained away, to be replaced by a wary rigidity. Tristan took a deep breath, summoned his courage, and drew back, forcing himself to look John in the eye. "I have been concealing something from you," he said. "I am sorry. It is very bad."
John's shock at learning what Tristan had been withholding from him for nearly nine months kept him silent throughout Tristan's miserable recital. He was not aware of having risen to pace about the library until he found himself standing before his portrait of Tristan, staring unseeing at its magnificence.
When Tristan at last fell silent and waited for him to speak, John could not find the words by which he might begin to express a coherent thought. Into the lengthening silence, Tristan said in a voice that was strangely timid, "I ought to have spoken much sooner."
*
15. 'Tristan's Arrival' Concerto A 5, Op- 9 No- 2 In D Minor
Chapter 35: In Which Tristan Is Not There To See The Lions
As they ate, conversing indifferently and rather sleepily, John became little by little more aware of sounds from the courtyard below indicating the arrival of a party that was either rather large or very important, for the ostlers were shouting instructions to one another, and the heavy conveyance that had arrived was pulled by what sounded like six horses.
The voice of an English servant came through the windows, saying sharply, "Mind you go careful with 'is lordship's trunk!" This was followed by a quieter male voice whose words John could not make out, but whose tone was clearly intended to be soothing. There was a pause, and then, "Very good, my lord." John's interest in the proceedings below increased. He had missed the sound of English voices, and these were London voices, making him suddenly more homesick than he had yet been.
*
16. 'With My Hopes' Concerto A 5, Op- 9 No- 4
Chapter 38: In Which the Pears of Languedoc Ripen
Tristan slid from his seat and, to John's considerable discomfiture, went to his knees next to John's chair, still clasping his hand. "When I solicited Alexandra's hand in marriage," he said, looking up into John's eyes, "I could not bring myself to speak of love--only of honour, and benefit, and need. Let me speak of love now. Please, John, do not say no."
John could do no more than nod. He felt his face burning with a tumult of emotions, all of them wildly clamouring for expression that went against his nature. The pressure was tremendous; he felt he might burst with it.
Tristan pressed his lips to John's hand and said, "I love you, John. I am strong, and happy, and--and good when you are by my side. We cannot always be together, but if I knew that our parting would always be temporary, that we would always agree to meet again, and--and to be true friends to one another, and to be at hand with help and kindness for each other when the world cannot know our troubles...well, then I can live with whatever else I must." Tristan's expression was imploring.
"Tristan," John whispered. He put a hand to Tristan's cheek. "Once upon a time, all of those things were true for me. I did not think they needed to be said."
Tristan's brow creased. "And now? Do you think they can ever be true again?"
John slid from his own chair and onto his knees before Tristan, catching up both of his hands. "Yes," he said. "I do."
*
17. 'One Step Closer To Heaven' Conceto A 5, Op- 9 No- 4
Chapter 38: In Which the Pears of Languedoc Ripen
Every rational faculty urged restraint and careful thought, but that barrier was held together by nothing more than will and habit, and John could sense the light, the freedom of spirit, that lay just behind it. With a breath, he let it go, and as it disintegrated, life seemed to rush in like fresh air, waking him, reviving him. "Only give me yours," he answered.
Tristan looked once more into John's eyes, his expression grateful and eager. He squeezed John's hands more firmly and said, "I promise. I promise that though we must sometimes be parted, I will always come back to you, and always love you, and always stand your friend, and do all in my power to help you, to--to come to your aid when you need me and seek your help and counsel when I need you, and be as faithful to our friendship as life permits me to be, and--"
John cut him off. "I require no more." He longed to laugh, to smooth Tristan's silly hair back, but the sudden, strange solemnity of the occasion wove a spell around them, and John scarcely dared to move. "I make you the same promise," he said. Dimly aware that they were kneeling on the dining room carpet, John gazed at Tristan's face, and felt at once five years old and a hundred, afraid to break the silence as if he were a child in church, and yet infinitely wise and patiently waiting for the moment to run its course.
*
18. 'Marriage Is A Safe Haven' Concerto A 5, Op- 9 No- 4
Chapter 41: In Which the Map of Life's Journey is Drawn
10 Half Moon Street
20th April, 1822
My dear Acklebury,
Please allow me to felicitate you upon your engagement to Miss Georgina Jennings. I take the liberty of telling you that I have found the married state to ease many of life's difficulties, and to settle much that was formerly unsettled. Miss Jennings, by all accounts, is a young woman of considerable wit and elegance of mind, which I know will suit you; one needs no informants to know how lovely she is, for one has only to look to see beauty, refinement, and taste. It is proper, I know, to say that you have done very well, sir! Perhaps I am prejudiced, but I cannot help thinking that it is Miss Jennings who has done very well, for she has secured the esteem of my dearest friend.
Mr. Poiriers asks me to send you his best regards, and informs me that he will be staying at the Royal George in Westminster during his next visit, on the 27th.
Again, sir, on the occasion of your betrothal, please accept my most heartfelt congratulations.
Yours
Penrith
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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Date: 2011-03-04 09:47 am (UTC):D:D:D:D:D
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Date: 2011-03-04 11:12 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-04 10:02 am (UTC)And the art is amazing. Jensen is SO beautiful. *sighs* I wish this were a movie.
Excellent, dear Laynie!!
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Date: 2011-03-04 11:13 pm (UTC):D
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Date: 2011-03-05 05:24 am (UTC)It will be awesome with a soundtrack. Thank you!
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Date: 2011-03-07 05:39 am (UTC)Thank you *hugs*
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Date: 2011-03-05 06:01 am (UTC)I posted, too!
Thank you!
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Date: 2011-03-07 05:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-07 05:43 am (UTC)Which reminds me, I need to add this to the author's notes part of the AO3 posting. Will go do that right now.
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Date: 2011-03-07 05:48 am (UTC)Thank you again for doing this.
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Date: 2011-03-07 07:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-07 09:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-05 08:01 am (UTC)(Which Casanova movie do you mean? Fellini's? Comencini's?
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Date: 2011-03-07 05:36 am (UTC)http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0402894/
And thank you!!
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Date: 2011-03-05 09:51 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-07 05:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-06 08:16 am (UTC)will enjoy listening the next time i read the fic.
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Date: 2011-03-07 05:41 am (UTC)And eeeeee, you have a Restraint icon!! Did you make it? Is it shareable by any chance?
*hopes*
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Date: 2011-03-07 06:23 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-07 07:48 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-07 07:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-03-07 07:52 am (UTC)Now I find myself wishing that I can have it in book form so that I can have it on my bookshelf :)
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Date: 2011-10-30 02:12 am (UTC)great selection!
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Date: 2011-10-31 01:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-02-06 05:53 am (UTC)In case there are new fans coming to this soundtrack as I did, who can no longer download it because of the demise of MegaUpload, I've made a MediaFire mirror if you'd like to link it: http://www.mediafire.com/?mghms39oc65pa5l
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Date: 2012-02-08 03:28 am (UTC)And thank you again. Restraint is such a lovely, wonderful story, one of my favourites in all fandoms combined!