All went smoothly; Sardanapalus assembled his slaves, the fire was kindled, everyone listened intently, and those who had been at rehearsal whispered:
“Now it’s coming. Just listen. It’s simply wonderful!”
Curses and excommunications upon those musicians who do not count their rests!! That damned horn, that should have given the signal to the side-drums, never came in. The drums were afraid to begin, so gave no signal to the cymbals, nor the cymbals to the big-drum.
The violins went wobbling on with their futile tremolo and my fire went out without one crackle!
Only a composer who has been through a like experience can appreciate my fury.
Giving vent to a wild yell of rage, I flung my score smash into the middle of the band and knocked over two desks. Madame Malibran jumped as if she had been shot, and the whole place was in an uproar.
It was a regular catastrophe—worst and cruellest of all I had hitherto borne; but alas! by no means the last.
XVI
LISZT
To Humbert Ferrand.
“24th July 1830.