Wagner, poet that he was, builded better.  He had the temperament for opera.  He was adapted to operatic composition as if he had been specially created for the purpose.  Here was the union of the poet and the musician in the same individual.  Knowing the importance of the drama, and aided by his literary instinct, he was able to select interesting subjects which were well adapted to musical treatment.  It was the spirit of romanticism pervading these dramas of Wagner’s which enabled him to weave such music about them.  We cannot imagine him making good music to a poor libretto,—­with Wagner the libretto and the music were of equal importance, the two usually having been produced simultaneously; his music fits the words so well that no other would be desired.

Early in the summer, Beethoven left his quarters in the theatre and went into the country nearby, where he could work with more freedom than in the city.  No labor seems to have been too great for him in the composition of this work.  The opera was finished early in the fall of 1805, and as soon as he returned to town he began with the rehearsals.  Then he had almost as much work as in writing the opera, everything possible having been done to worry him.  His simplicity and want of tact seem to have been very much in evidence at this time; he was like a child compared with the astute men of affairs with whom he now came in contact.  His greatest difficulty, however, was with his singers.  A man following so faithfully the intimations of his genius as did Beethoven, withal a man of such striking individuality and force of character, would be sure to disregard to some extent the capacity of his performers.  His singers made no end of trouble, stating that their parts were unsingable and asking for alterations.  Some of the members of the orchestra also complained about technical difficulties, but the master was obdurate, refusing to make any changes.  Instead of placating them, by which means only, a good performance was possible as things went at that time, he overrode their wishes and would make no concessions whether in large or in small matters.  To Beethoven, music as an art was the most serious fact in his existence; to the others, it was no more than a means of enjoyment or of subsistence.  His point of view being so different from that of the others, it is not surprising that he was always at odds with them.  Trifles often annoyed him more than gross derelictions.  At one of the rehearsals the third bassoon player was absent and Beethoven was enraged.  That anything short of illness or disaster should keep this man from his post was a piece of insolence, an insult to the art.  Prince Lobkowitz was present, and in the effort to pacify him, made light of the affair; he told him that this man’s absence did not matter much, as the first and second bassoonists were present, a line of argument that served to include the Prince in Beethoven’s wrath.  Hofsekretaer Mahler relates the denouement of the incident.  On the way home, after the rehearsal, as he and Beethoven came in sight of the Lobkowitz Platz, Beethoven, with the delinquent third bassoonist still in his mind, could not resist crossing the Platz, and shouting into the great gateway of the palace, “Lobkowitzscher Esel” (ass of a Lobkowitz).