From Hamburg I went to Berlin and Hanover, finishing at Darmstadt where the Grand Duke insisted not only on my taking the full receipts from my concert (so far Weimar—city of artists—was the only one that had extended to me this courtesy) but, in addition, refused to let me pay any of the expenses.
Everywhere I met with success and made friends.
Thus ended the longest and perhaps the most arduous pilgrimage ever taken by a musician; its memory will, to me, be ever green.
How can I thank thee, Germany, noble foster-mother to the sons of music? How express my gratitude, admiration, and regret? I know not. I can but bow before thee humbly and murmur brokenly—
XXVIII
A COLOSSAL CONCERT
When I got back to Paris, I found M. Pillet planning a revival of Der Freyschütz. Now, by the rules of the Opera every word must be sung and as there are spoken dialogues in Weber’s opera he engaged me to set them in the form of recitations.
“It is all wrong,” I said, “but as that is the only condition on which it will be played and as, if I don’t do it, you will give it to someone who does not know Weber as I do, I accept but with one stipulation—that you change neither music nor libretto.”
“Certainly,” he replied, “do you suppose I would revive Robin des Bois?”
“Very well, then I will get to work at once. How are you arranging the parts?”