exclaimed in particular against "the cries of the common people
selling their wares." It was very distracting, no doubt, for, as
a cynic has said, one cannot compose operas or write books or
paint pictures in the midst of a row. Haydn desired above all
things quiet for his work, and so by-and-by, as a solace for the
evils which afflicted his ear, he removed himself from Great
Pulteney Street to Lisson Grove--"in the country amid lovely
scenery, where I live as if I were in a monastery."

Haydn at Court

For the present the dining and the entertaining went on. The 12th of
January found him at the "Crown and Anchor" in the Strand, where the
Anacreonatic Society expressed their respect and admiration in the
usual fashion. The 18th of the same month was the Queen's birthday,
and Haydn was invited to a Court ball in the evening. This was quite
an exceptional distinction, for he had not yet been "presented" at
Court. Probably he owed it to the Prince of Wales, afterwards George
IV. The Prince was a musical amateur, like his father and his
grandfather, whose enthusiasm for Handel it is hardly necessary to
recall. He played the 'cello--"not badly for a Prince," to parody
Boccherini's answer to his royal master--and liked to take his part
in glees and catches. Haydn was charmed by his affability. "He is
the handsomest man on God's earth," wrote the composer. "He has an
extraordinary love for music, and a great deal of feeling, but very
little money." These courtesies to Haydn may perhaps be allowed to
balance the apparent incivility shown to Beethoven and Weber, who
sent compositions to the same royal amateur that were never so much
as acknowledged.