While the rehearsals were going on so well, my wife and I went to dine one evening at Alphonse Daudet's. He was very fond of us. The first proofs had been laid on the piano. I can still see Daudet seated on a cushion and almost brushing the keyboard with his handsome head so delightfully framed in his beautiful thick hair. It seemed to me that he was deeply moved. The vagueness of his short sightedness made his eyes still more admirable. His soul with all its pure, tender poetry spoke through them.
It would be difficult to experience again such moments as my wife and I knew then.
As they were about to begin the first rehearsals of Sapho, Danbé, who had been my friend since childhood, told the musicians in the orchestra what an emotional work they were to play.
Finally, the first performance came on November 27, 1897.
The evening must have been very fine, for the next day the first mail brought me the following note:
My dear Massenet:
I am happy at your great success. With Massenet and Bizet, non omnis moriar.
Tenderly yours,
ALPHONSE DAUDET.
I learned that my beloved friend and famous collaborator had been present at the first performance, at the back of a box, although he had stopped going out save on rare occasions.
His appearance at the performance touched me all the more.