be withdrawn; it was found that the ‘Jockeys’ had not stayed away, as was their custom, from this Sunday performance; on the contrary, they had purposely taken their seats from the beginning, so as not to allow a single scene to pass without a row.  I was assured that in the first act the performance had been twice suspended by fights lasting a quarter of an hour each.  By far the greater part of the public obstinately took my part against the childish conduct of the rowdies, without intending by their action to express any opinion of my work.  But in opposing their assailants they were at a great disadvantage.  When everybody on my side was utterly wearied out with clapping and shouting applause and calling ‘Order,’ and it looked as if peace were about to reign once more, the ‘Jockeys’ returned afresh to their task and began cheerfully whistling their hunting-tunes and playing their flageolets, so that they were always bound to have the last word.  In an interval between the acts one of these gentlemen entered the box of a certain great lady, who in the excess of her anger introduced him to one of her friends with the words, ’C’est un de ces miserables, mon cousin.’  The young man, completely unabashed, answered, ’Que voulez-vous?  I am beginning to like the music myself.  But, you see, a man must keep his word.  If you will excuse me, I will return to my work again.’  He thereupon took his leave.  The next day I met Herr von Seebach, the friendly Saxon Ambassador, who was as hoarse as he could be, as he and all his friends had completely lost their voices through the uproar of the previous night.  Princess Metternich had remained at home, as she had already had to endure the coarse insults and ridicule of our opponents at the first two performances.

She indicated the height to which this fury had risen by mentioning some of her best friends, with whom she had engaged in so virulent a controversy that she had ended by saying:  ’Away with your free France!  In Vienna, where at least there is a genuine aristocracy, it would be unthinkable for a Prince Liechtenstein or Schwarzenberg to scream from his box for a ballet in Fidelio.’  I believe she also spoke to the Emperor in the same strain, so that he seriously debated whether by police intervention some check could not be put upon the unmannerly conduct of these gentlemen, most of whom, unfortunately, belonged to the Imperial Household.  Some rumour of this got abroad, so that my friends believed they had really gained the day when, at the third performance, they found the corridors of the theatre occupied by a strong body of police.  But it turned out later on that these precautions had only been taken to ensure the safety of the ‘Jockeys,’ as it was feared they might be attacked from the pit as a punishment for their insolence.  It seems that the performance, which was again carried through to the end, was accompanied from start to finish by an endless tumult.  After the second act the wife of von Szemere, the Hungarian