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I sat with Frau Mozart in her box almost opposite the King's box. And what was on the posters, do you think? Look, please! I brought it for you, wrapped around a little souvenir from the Mozarts and myself. Look, read it, printed in letters a yard long! 'Heaven forbid! Not Tarare! 'Yes! What cannot one live to see!
It is for her the Indian girl has spun the soft fleece of Thibet goats, Tarare weaves its airy veils, Brussels sets in motion those shuttles which speed the flaxen thread that is purest and most fine, Bidjapour wrenches from the bowels of the earth its sparkling pebbles, and the Sevres gilds its snow-white clay.
Sometimes M. and his friend halted amidst all that is delightful and soothing; and after a short advance, found themselves amidst barrenness, deformity, and confusion. The remoter scenery was not less impressive. Behind them were the rugged mountains of Puy de Dôme; the lofty Tarare lifted its majestic head beside them, and far before appeared the brilliant summit of Mont Blanc.
He had already at this period, it was said, three hundred manufacturing hands in his employment, and he was working at the same time silver, lead, and copper mines situated in the environs of Tarare and Lyons.
Many of the servants' carriages were, left in the rear; though mine experienced no delay, and I arrived at each relay at the same time as the Emperor. In ascending the steep hill of Tarare, the Emperor alighted from the carriage, as did also Berthier, who accompanied him; the carriages of the suite being some distance behind, as the drivers had stopped to breathe their horses.
Two elegant courses and a desert were presently dispatched; the whole time employed in eating I know not how many good dishes, and drinking a variety of choice wines, not exceeding thirty-five minutes. At the end of the repast, coffee was presented to the company in an adjoining room, after which the opera of Tarare was the attraction of the evening.
The old woman who met him incognito climbing the hill of Tarare, and replying to his assertion that "Napoleon was only a tyrant like the rest," exclaimed, "It may be so, but the others are the kings of the nobility, while he is one of us, and we have chosen him ourselves," expressed a great truth.
These are a species of comic opera, in which is introduced a great deal of show and bustle. Panurge, La Caravanne, Anacreon, Tarare, Les Pretendus, Les Mysteres d'Isis, &c. are of this description. The music of the first three is by GRETRY. It is considered as replete with grace, charm, and truth of expression. The poem of Panurge is an estravaganza.
Two years ago, when Mozart wrote Don Juan, and the wretched, malicious, yellow, old Salieri was preparing to repeat in Vienna the triumph which he had won with his piece, in Paris, and to show our good plain public, contented with Cosa rara, a hawk or two; while he and his arch-accomplice were plotting to present Don Juan just as they had presented Figaro, mutilated, ruined, I vowed that if the infamous Tarare was ever given, nothing should hire me to go to see it.
It is for her the Indian girl has spun the soft fleece of Thibet goats, Tarare weaves its airy veils, Brussels sets in motion those shuttles which speed the flaxen thread that is purest and most fine, Bidjapour wrenches from the bowels of the earth its sparkling pebbles, and the Sevres gilds its snow-white clay.
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