o’clock, and so did not reach the theatre until ten o’clock, when about half the performance was over.  I replied that I could not undertake myself to oblige these gentlemen, but might well hope duly to impress another part of the public.  But with his imperturbable air of ceremony he met me with the objection that these gentlemen’s support could alone be counted upon to produce a successful result, inasmuch as they were powerful enough even to defy the hostile attitude of the press.  This precaution awakened no response in me, and I offered to withdraw my work altogether, whereupon I was assured with the greatest earnestness that, according to the Emperor’s command, which had to be universally respected, I was master of the situation, and my wishes would be followed in everything.  The Count had only thought it his duty to give me a friendly piece of advice.

The consequences of this conversation soon became evident in many ways.  I threw myself enthusiastically into the work of carrying out the great dance scenes of the first act, and tried to win Petitpas, the ballet-master, to my side.  I asked for unheard-of combinations quite different from those generally employed in the ballet.  I drew attention to the dances of the Maenads and Bacchantes, and astounded Petitpas with the mere proposition that he would be able to accomplish something of the kind with his graceful pupils, as it was well within his powers.  He explained to me that by placing my ballet at the beginning of the first act I had myself renounced all claim to the step-dancers attached to the Opera, and all he could do was to offer to engage three Hungarian dancers, who had formerly danced in the fairy scenes at the Porte St. Martin, to fill the parts of the three graces.  As I was quite content to dispense with the distinguished dancers belonging to the Opera, I insisted all the more that the rank and file of the ballet should be actively coached.  I wanted to know that the male staff was present in full force, but I learned that it was impossible to bring it up to my requirements, unless some tailors were engaged who, for a monthly salary of fifty francs, figured in a vague way in the wings during the performances of the solo dancers.  Finally I tried to produce my effects by means of the costumes, and asked for considerable funds for that purpose, only to learn, after I had been wearied by one subterfuge after another, that the management was determined not to expend a halfpenny on my ballet, which they regarded as completely wasted.  Such was the substance of what my trusty friend Truinet conveyed to me.  This was the first sign out of many which soon revealed to me the fact, that even in the circles of the operatic administration itself Tannhauser was already regarded as labour lost and sheer waste of trouble.