expense fell on the restaurateur, who was compelled to console himself
by the reflection that it was in the cause of liberty. Oftentimes the
executioner, the dreaded Sanson, who as public official had the right of
entree, would stroll in and in a jocular tone emphasize his abilities as
a critic by saying to the singers that his opinion on the _execution_ of
the music ought to be respected.*

* So, too, the London hangman one night went into the pit of
her Majesty's Theatre to hear Jenny Lind sing, and remarked
with a sigh of professional longing, "Ah, what a throat to
scrag!"

Operatic kings and queens were suppressed, and the titles of royalty
were prohibited both on the stage and in the greenroom. It was
necessary, indeed, to use the old monarchical répertoire; but kings
were transformed into chiefs; princes and dukes became members of the
Convention or representatives of the people; seigneurs became mayors,
and substitutes were found for words like "crown," "scepter," "throne,"
etc. There was one great difficulty to overcome. This was met by placing
the scenes of the new operas in Italy, Portugal, etc.--anywhere but in
France, where it was indispensable from a political point of view, but
impossible from the poetic and musical, to make lovers address each
other as _citoyen, citoyenne_.

Hébert would frequently display proscriptive lists in the green-room,
including the names of many of the actors and other operatic employees,
and say, "I shall have to send you all to the guillotine some day, but
I have been prevented hitherto by the fact that you have conduced to
my amusement." The stratagem which saved them was to get the ferocious
Hébert drunk, for he loved wine as well as blood, and steal the fatal