Read the passage and answer the questions

It was in the spring of my 64th year that I first heard of the seraphic melody. A generous grant from the Yale
Institute of Sacred Music allowed me to spend two years in Vienna, Austria, in the dust of the basement
libraries that riddle the old city.
I had an apartment in the Margareten district. Though the subway provided convenient transport, I often found
myself wandering. I've always had a strange feeling that the forgotten makers of history watch us, hidden in
some crinkle of timenever was this feeling as strong as in Vienna. Munching on kasekrainer, or sausage, that
I bought from street vendors, I wandered the stone and glass, alone with my thoughts. I even dreamed about
aimless wanderings.
But that was my free time. In truth, I spent most of my waking hours seated, bent over a book, or else with my
nose to library stacks. I frequented the major institutions, of course. But my research at that timethe rather
scholarly branch of preBaroque xenharmonics (alternate music tuning systems)led me further and further off
the beaten path, to museums and specialized libraries on the city's suburbs, and from there to the personal
libraries and collections of Vienna's elusive musical devotees.
It was in the personal library of an architect by the name of Heimito Wolf that I first laid eyes on Schuppen des
Drachens. (In English, Scales of the Dragon, a musical pun and a reference to the book's subject: music
categorized as supernatural or occult.) As befits its shadowy subject, Schuppen des Drachens' origin is
mysterious. Scholars agree it's the work of a secret society related to the Church and to the Viennese musical
worldwhen the book was written, sometime in the 16th century, the two could hardly be separated. In any
case, it's an encyclopedia of musical styles, specifically those musical styles beyond the old Church's realm.
That is to say, beyond the realm of the acceptable in that time period.
The one entry of a musical style within the massive book that most enchanted me took up only half a page. The
account there was so fantastical, so literally incredible that at first glance I took it for nothing more than myth
no more true than the dragon of the book's title. It had nothing at all to do with my research, and yet two aspects
clung to me, and I couldn't shake them.
First, the melody itself. In English it translates to seraphic or angelic melody: a melody so bewitching that when
played twice, the second playing is more pleasing than the first, and the third more than the second, the fourth
more than the third, and on and on forever.
Supposedly, according to Schuppen des Drachens' longforgotten author, the musician who dares to play the
melody enters a sort of trance, unable or unwilling to put down his instrument. He plays on until he drops of
exhaustion. When he wakes, his fingers can no longer play the piece, but the memory of the melody haunts
him.
Second: the author continues, in a rather overthetop style, to tell the tale of one such musician. (Lute, I believe,
was his instrument, though the seraphic melody seems equally playable on any instrument.) The musician
wanders from one Austrian court to another like a phantom, unable to forget his brief touch with the divine and
equally unable to evoke once more that touch. As I recall the story, a duke takes pity on the musician and takes
him into his care. The musician, who lives until his eighties, never leaves the duke's estate. He spends his days
in the garden standing with his arms at his sides and his closed eyes directed up at the heavens, humming to
himself.
Before I left, I mentioned Schuppen des Drachens to Herr Wolf. My reference was discrete, made only in
passing. From deep within his oversized, overstuffed, burgundy armchair, Wolf broke into a fit of coughing.
When he had recovered, he asked why I was interested. Thinking little of it, I mentioned the seraphic melody.
His face clouded over. In thicklyaccented English, he warned me to forget the story. Naturally this only piqued
my interest, and when I insisted, he wrote an address on a piece of paper. He said that if I visited the address, I
was to deny ever having met him, ever having heard of him, and, in no uncertain terms, to never contact him
again.
I spent the next week in a cloud. It was impossible to concentrate on my work. My readings, dense enough to
begin with, came to me as though written in a foreign language; even the prospect of writing, normally a
pleasure, was hopeless. The idea of visiting the address, however, terrified me. I had known Herr Wolf for two
decades. He was neither a coward nor a liar. He was not a gullible man.

In the end, the anxiety of not knowing won out. Following Wolf's address, I found myself at a typicallooking
street in the Alsergrund district, a locale neither busy nor sparse, and entered what appeared to be an apartment
complex. Wolf's address, however, named no apartment number. I almost walked out. But though I can boast of
no great heroism, and in fact devoted my life to study and quietude, nevertheless to resign myself to fate was
unsatisfactory, distasteful. resolved to investigate further. The doors to the eight apartments, two on each floor,
were equally ordinary. The door to the roof was locked. Neither did I find any possibilities on the ground floor,
though I searched the broom closets and even the basement, where I found nothing except the water heater, gas
meters, and cleaning supplies.
I stepped out of the building and surveyed the area. Right away I noticed the entranceway descending into the
ground, just to the side of the steps on which I stood. Following the stairs as they turned out of sight of the
street, I came to a locked door. A swift elbow to the glass and I was able to reach in and open it from the inside.
The space was smaller than an elevator and roofless, open to the skya shaftway, maybe. By the light that
came down to those depths I saw a symbol on the wall: a pale man with a flute, not playing the flute, but
holding it at his side as he looks skyward, up to the sun that streams down on him. I assume he was painted on
the stone, but so old and faded was the symbol that it was difficult to tell for sure.
There's something more about him that I find difficult to put into words. Maybe in my excited state my
imagination got the best of me. He seemed not to be moving, but somehow implying movementabout to drop
to a knee, or maybe leap in the air. Something. I couldn't be sure. Equally, he seemed to imply where he had just
been. Again, perhaps sitting, walking, talking, nothing definitehe was one image that for me represented
many images, like where he came from and where he might be going, two paths darkening as they receded from
the present.
He meant little to me at first, but I think of him constantly now. Each day he occupies me more and more. The
hallways of time are so long, and you never get a bird's eye view. I'm beginning to think they are not hallways
at all, but a maze.
1. Where does the narrator first learn of the seraphic
melody?
A from an architect named Heimito Wolf
B at the Yale Institute of Sacred Music
C in the book Schuppen des Drachens
D at a major academic institution in Vienna
2. At the end of the story, the narrator goes to an
address given to him by Herr Wolf.
What motivates the narrators actions?
A. He wants to learn more about the seraphic
melody.
B. He does not believe in the myth of the seraphic
melody.

A The narrator researches pre-Baroque alternate

music tuning systems.
B The narrator receives a grant from the Yale
Institute of Sacred Music.
C The narrator spends most of his time in libraries
and academic institutions.
D The narrator becomes interested in a book in the
library of Herr Wolf.
4. When the narrator mentions the seraphic melody
to Herr Wolf, his face clouds over and he warns the
narrator to forget the story. Based on this
information, what can you conclude about Herr
Wolf?
A Herr Wolf has no interest in the seraphic melody.

C. He wants an excuse not to visit Herr Wolf ever

again.

B Herr Wolf thinks the seraphic melody is a myth.

D. He wants to show Herr Wolf that he is not

gullible.

C Herr Wolf has never heard of the seraphic

melody.

3. The narrator is a successful, recognized music

scholar. What evidence from the passage best
supports this conclusion?

D Herr Wolf has experience with the seraphic

melody.

5. What is this story mostly about?

A the study of pre-Baroque xenharmonics (alternate
music tuning systems)
B the book Schuppen des Drachens and its ties to
Viennese secret societies
C a mysterious melody that a scholar learns about
while studying in Austria

D how the Church dictated acceptable musical

styles in Europe in the 16th century
6. What does the phrase piqued my interest
mean?
A made me curious
B made me forget
C made me uninterested
D made me afraid