“To Monsieur Auber:—
“Will you kindly permit me, Sir, to place in a vaudeville which I am just now writing for the Théâtre de Madame, your round from ‘La Bergère Châtelaine’ which is so delightful and justly popular? I will not conceal from you, Sir, that I have promised my director to make the piece succeed, and that I have counted upon using your charming music.”
This note is quite gallant, but Auber replies to it with just as much gallantry:
“To Monsieur Scribe:—
“My round is but a trifle, Sir, and you are so gifted that you can dispense with my poor assistance. However, if I grant you what you ask, although you do not really need it, and you will allow me to lend you at the same time the fine voice and pretty face of Mme. Boulanger, I think we should both do a good stroke of business.”
The good stroke of business consisted in the thrice-happy collaboration which resulted from this exchange of letters, a collaboration only broken by the death of Scribe, which took place many years before that of Auber. On one occasion Auber said to me: “I owe my successes to Scribe. Without his assistance I feel that I should never have obtained the place I occupy in the musical world.” Without detracting in any degree from the value of Auber’s music, it may be said that this statement is true; for the composer needed a librettist of such versatile wit and resource of imagination that I do not see amongst the comic-opera librettists a single poet who could have taken Scribe’s place in this work. During the whole of his life Auber was accustomed to compose the principal airs of his operas before the libretto was written and almost without regard to the character of the scene in which these airs would be used; and to these melodies Scribe wrote words with extraordinary ease. Auber sang the airs, accompanying himself on the piano, while Scribe, pencil in hand, instantly found the verses naturally suited to the character of the music, cleverly adapting himself to its rhythm, oftentimes very strange. I may mention the “Seguidille” in “Le Domino Noir,” which was a singularly difficult test of Scribe’s powers. Another instance is the song of Henriette in “L’Ambassadrice,” which was also written by Auber without words. It was an astonishing feat on the part of Scribe to find the comic and original verses which he adapted to this melody, the scansion of which is so very singular.
CARICATURE OF AUBER.
From the Paris Charivari.
BUST OF AUBER.
By Danton; in the Carnavalet Museum, Paris.