"F. Liszt."
26 August, '85. Weimar.
The stage rehearsals of Le Cid at the Opéra were carried on with astonishing sureness and skill by my dear director, P. Gailhard, a master of this art who had been besides the most admirable of artists on the stage. He did everything for the good of the work with an affectionate friendship. It is my pleasant duty to pay him honor for this.
Later on I found him the same invaluable collaborator when Ariane was put on at the Opéra.
On the evening of November 20, 1885, the Opéra billed the first performance of Le Cid, while the Opéra-Comique played the same evening Manon, which had already passed its eightieth performance.
In spite of the good news from the general rehearsal of Le Cid, I spent the evening with the artists at Manon. Needless to say all the talk in the wings of the Opéra-Comique was of the first performance of Le Cid which was then in full blast.
Despite my apparent calmness, in my inmost heart I was extremely anxious, so the curtain had hardly fallen on the fifth act of Manon than I went to the Opéra instead of going home. An irresistible power pulled me thither.
As I skirted the outside of the house from which an elegant and large crowd was pouring, I overheard a snatch of conversation between a well known journalist and a reporter who hurriedly inquired the results of the evening. "It is splitting, my dear chap."
I was greatly troubled, as one would be in any case, and ran to the directors' room for further news. At the artists' entrance I met Mme. Krause. She embraced me in raptures and said, "It's a triumph!"
Need I say that I preferred the opinion of this admirable artiste. She comforted me completely.