“Your passion for Shakespeare and love for the classics would indeed produce a work both grand and original. You must do it.”
As I demurred, she continued:
“Listen! If you draw back from fear of petty troubles, if you are so weak as not to suffer in the cause of Cassandra and Dido, come here no more. I will never see you again!”
Once back in Paris I began the poem of The Trojans. Then I started on the score, and at the end of three years and a half it was finished. As I polished and repolished it I read it to many of my friends, profiting by their criticism; then I wrote to the Emperor begging him to read it and, should he judge it suitable, to use his influence to secure it a hearing at the Opera.
However, M. de Morny dissuaded me from sending my letter, and when finally The Trojans saw the footlights the Emperor was not even present.
After many cruel disappointments with regard to the opera,[28] I at last succumbed to the persuasion of M. Carvalho and allowed him to set The Trojans at Carthage (the second section of the opera) at the Théâtre Lyrique.
Although he received a Government subsidy of a hundred thousand francs a year, neither his theatre, singers, chorus, nor orchestra was equal to the task. Both he and I made great sacrifices, and I, out of my small income, paid some extra musicians and cut up my orchestration to bring it within his limits.
Madame Charton-Demeur, the only possible woman for Dido, most generously accepted fees far below those offered her in Madrid, but despite everything the production was incomplete; indeed, the sceneshifters made such a muddle of the storm scene that we were obliged to suppress it entirely.
As I said before, if I am to superintend a really fine representation I must have an absolutely free hand, and the good-will of every one around, otherwise I get worn out with storming at opposition, and end by resigning and letting everything go to the devil as it will.
I cannot describe what Carvalho[29] made me suffer in demanding cuts that he deemed necessary. When he dared ask no more he worked upon me through friends, whose niggling, peddling criticism drove me nearly mad. Said one: