I gave up the attempt to try and see Scribe on the mere ground of our having had some correspondence, for my friends had made it clear to me, in the light of their own experience, that it was out of the question to expect this exceptionally busy author to occupy himself seriously with a young and unknown musician.  Anders was able to introduce me to another acquaintance, however, a certain M. Dumersan.  This grey-haired gentleman had written some hundred vaudeville pieces, and would have been glad to see one of them performed as an opera on a larger scale before his death.  He had no idea of standing on his dignity as an author, and was quite willing to undertake the translation of an existing libretto into French verse.  We therefore entrusted him with the writing of my Liebesverbot, with a view to a performance at the Theatre de la Renaissance, as it was then called. (It was the third existing theatre for lyric drama, the performances being given in the new Salle Ventadour, which had been rebuilt after its destruction by fire.) On the understanding that it was to be a literal translation, he at once turned the three numbers of my opera, for which I hoped to secure a hearing, into neat French verse.  Besides this, he asked me to compose a chorus for a vaudeville entitled La Descente de la Courtille, which was to be played at the Varietes during the carnival.

This was a second opening.  My friends now strongly advised me to write something small in the way of songs, which I could offer to popular singers for concert purposes.  Both Lehrs and Anders produced words for these.  Anders brought a very innocent Dors, mon enfant, written by a young poet of his acquaintance; this was the first thing I composed to a French text.  It was so successful that, when I had tried it over softly several times on the piano, my wife, who was in bed, called out to me that it was heavenly for sending one to sleep.  I also set L’Attente from Hugo’s Orientales, and Ronsard’s song, Mignonne, to music.  I have no reason to be ashamed of these small pieces, which I published subsequently as a musical supplement to Europa (Lewald’s publication) in 1841.

I next stumbled on the idea of writing a grand bass aria with a chorus, for Lablache to introduce into his part of Orovist in Bellini’s Norma.  Lehrs had to hunt up an Italian political refugee to get the text out of him.  This was done, and I produced an effective composition a la Bellini (which still exists among my manuscripts), and went off at once to offer it to Lablache.

The friendly Moor, who received me in the great singer’s anteroom, insisted upon admitting me straight into his master’s presence without announcing me.  As I had anticipated some difficulty in getting near such a celebrity, I had written my request, as I thought this would be simpler than explaining verbally.