"Sound-wraiths wandering in air." Here we have the same thing and employed
with exquisite appropriateness. The ladies hanging in the secret chamber
are mere bodies, their heads being decidedly off stage. When the door is
opened the wives begin to sing _a_la'_ Debussy, the ghostly effect being
secured by the fact that it is not, of course, the _present_bodies_, but
the _absent_heads_ that are supposed to be singing. The melodic wraiths
float from the key of G flat--I use "key" in the old-fashioned sense, for
the word, like the thing itself, is fast disappearing--through one and four
sharps back to two and three flats, employing all signatures but that of C
major. Six sets of severed vocal organs meandering in space would hardly
use the natural key!

Then we have the opening of the mysterious door; the unexpected return of
Bluebeard; the hysterics of the ill-fated sisters, with plenty of shrieking
and swooning motives; and then the celebrated "_Hammelfleisch_" or "Mutton"
motive, where Sister Anne, from her post in the high tower, observes for a
long time nothing but sheep.

"But, alas! Sister Anne, only saw a few sheep, then, nothing!"

Now there is the thrilling and opportune arrival of the Brothers on their
high horses; the mortal combat; the death of the villain by the
"_Schwert_Motiv_"; the joyous funeral march; and then the superb duet
between Mustapha, the eldest brother, and Fatima, the ill-fated heroine. We
get astonishing color contrasts in the last scene, as each character is
allotted a different set of instruments as accompaniment. Bluebeard has six
sackbuts, a trumpet, a _viol_d'amore_, and a Chinese temple gong; Fatima,
three lutes, an arch-lute, and a pianola; Mustapha a bass-drum and a
harpsichord; and Sister Anne a pair of virginals. (An exquisite touch,
this!) To Bluebeard's servants are allotted barrel-organs, accordions,