Even when he was at class he couldn't protect himself from
self-seekers. Singers of all sorts, male and female, came for a hearing.
One day it was Marie Cabel, still youthful and dazzling both in voice
and beauty. Other days impossible tenors wasted his time. When the
master sent word that he wasn't coming--this happened often--I used to
go to the library, and there, as a matter of fact, I completed my
education. The amount of music, ancient and modern, I devoured is beyond
belief.
But it wasn't enough just to read music--I needed to hear it. Of course
there was the Societe des Concerts, but it was a Paradise, guarded by an
angel with a flaming sword, in the form of a porter named Lescot. It was
his duty to prevent the profane defiling the sanctuary. Lescot was fond
of me and appreciated my keen desire to hear the orchestra. As a result
he made his rounds as slowly as possible in order to put me out only as
a last resort. Fortunately for me, Marcelin de Fresne gave me a place in
his box, which I was permitted to occupy for several years.
I used to read and study the symphonies before I heard them and I saw
grave defects in the Societe's vaunted execution. No one would stand
them now, but then they passed unnoticed.
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