“Most hearty thanks, monsieur, but M. de Larochefoucauld never breaks his word. I also shall write and retail our conversation exactly. Then he will be able to weigh the arguments on both sides.”
I did so, and was afterwards told by one of his secretaries that my dialogue-letter made the Director laugh till he cried. He was, above all, touched at Cherubini’s tender consideration for those poor devils of employés whom I was going to kill with fatigue.
He replied, as any man blessed with commonsense would, repeating his authorisation and adding:
“You will kindly show this letter to M. Cherubini, who has already received the necessary orders.”
Of course I posted off to the Conservatoire and handed in my letter; Cherubini read it, turned pale, then yellow, and finally green, then handed it back without a word.
This was my first Roland for the Oliver he gave me in turning me out of the library. It was not to be my last.
XII
MY FIRST CONCERT
Having secured orchestra, hall, chorus and parts, I only wanted soloists and a conductor. Bloc, of the Odéon, kindly accepted the latter post, and Alexis Dupont, although very unwell, took under his wing my Orpheus, which he had promised to sing before the jury of the Institute, had it been passed.
But unluckily his hoarseness got so much worse that, when the day came, he was unable to sing at all, so I was deprived of the wicked joy of putting on the programme, “Death of Orpheus; lyric poem, judged impossible of execution by the Académie des Beaux Arts, performed May 1828.”
A concert at which most of the executants helped for love and not for money naturally came off poorly in rehearsals; still, at the final rehearsal the overtures went fairly well, the Francs-Juges calling forth warm applause from the orchestra; the finale of the cantata being even more successful.