that of Byron's hero, that all woman-kind had but a single mouth and
he the privilege of kissing it. He adores the Countess; but not her
alone. Susanna has a ribbon in her hand with which, she tells him,
she binds up her mistress's tresses at night. Happy Susanna! Happy
ribbon! Cherubino seizes it, refuses to give it up, and offers in
exchange his latest ballad. "What shall I do with the song?" asks
Susanna. "Sing it to the Countess! Sing it yourself! Sing it to
Barbarina, to Marcellina, to all the ladies in the palace!" He
tells Susanna (Air: "Non so piu cosa son") of the torments which he
endures. The lad's mind is, indeed, in a parlous state; he feels his
body alternately burning and freezing; the mere sight of a maiden
sends the blood to his cheeks, and he needs must sigh whenever he
hears her voice; sleeping and waking, by lakeside, in the shadow of
the woods, on the mountain, by stream and fountain, his thoughts are
only of love and its sweet pains. It is quite impossible to describe
the eloquence with which Mozart's music expresses the feverish
unrest, the turmoil, and the longing which fill the lad's soul.
Otto Jahn has attempted it, and I shall quote his effort:--

The vibration of sentiment, never amounting to actual passion,
the mingled anguish and delight of the longing which can never be
satisfied, are expressed with a power of beauty raising them out of
the domain of mere sensuality. Very remarkable is the simplicity of
the means by which this extraordinary effect is attained. A violin
accompaniment passage, not unusual in itself, keeps up the restless
movement; the harmonies make no striking progressions; strong
emphasis and accents are sparingly used, and yet the soft flow of
the music is made suggestive of the consuming glow of passion. The
instrumentation is here of a very peculiar effect and quite a novel
coloring; the stringed instruments are muted, and clarinets occur