“‘Peace, fool! ere many years have passed your pain will be no more.’
Henriette Smithson and
Hector Berlioz
will rest in the oblivion of the grave and other unfortunates will also suffer and die!” ...
To H. Ferrand.
“November 1829.—Oh Ferrand! Ferrand! why were you not here for my concert? Yesterday I was so ill that I could not crawl; to-day the fire of hell that inspired my Francs-Juges overture, courses through my veins.
“All my heart, my passion, my love are in that overture.
“After the crowd had dispersed the performers waited for me in the courtyard and greeted me with wild applause. At the Opera in the evening it was the same thing—a regular ferment!
“My friend, my friend! Had you but been there!
“But it was more than I could stand, and now I am a prey to the most awful depression and despair; tears choke me, I long to die.