"Her voice is good in quality, but then There's not sufficient of it for a queen Of the lyric stage. Yet such she claims to be, But is not. Now dismiss me." (_Descends_.) _MacStrakosch_. "Yea; and I will unless thy master's ear Be deaf to the demand of good society. Let me hear more!" _Thunder. Third apparition of a critic rises. Apparition_. "Her lower notes are bad, her upper notes Forced, reedy, and most sadly often flat; 'Tis folly to compare her with the great Full-voiced and plenteous Parepa. Now Dismiss me if thou wilt." _MacStrakosch_. "Sacrilegious wretch! I have thy name Upon my tablets. Thy official head Comes off at once. Call up, ye midnight hags, Another of these villains." _Thunder. Fourth apparition of a critic rises. Apparition_. "Her acting, like her voice, is cold and hard; Not thus did GRISI, GAZZANIGA or CORTESI act when their warm Southern blood Throbbed in the passionate pulse of VIOLETTA, NORMA, or the Spanish LEONORE. Dismiss me, quick." _MacStralosch_. "Thon diest ere to-morrow's sun shall set, Or never more advertisement of mine Shall grace the columns of thy journal. Next." _Thunder. Fifth apparition of a critic rises. Apparition_. "She in the same in everything she sings; Her 'Gilda,' her 'Amina,' or her 'Marguerite,' Her 'Leonora,' or her 'Daughter of The Regiment,' are one and all the same Fair lady decked in different stage costumes. Better dismiss me, now. I've told the truth, And may continue that unseemly practice." _MacStrakosch_. "This is past bearing. Are there any more Of these rude fellows waiting to be summoned?" _Thunder. Eight apparitions of critics rise and pass over the stage, reciting the following chorus: Apparitions_. "She has a pretty little voice, and uses it In pretty little ways. If she would sing In pretty little theatres she'd make a hit In pretty little parts. That's everything That can be said for her. Cease then to claim That "KELLOGG" should be writ next GRISI'S name." _The apparitions vanish. An alarm of drums is heard, and_ MATADOR _awakes to find that he is still enduring Poliuto, and that a sporadic drum in the orchestra, which has broken loose from the weak restraints of the conductor's discipline, is making Verdi unnecessarily hideous._ And as he passed once more and finally through the lobby, he heard a critic remark, "She is the same in everything she sings;" and another reply, "Yes, she has a pretty little voice, and uses it nicely, but she is by no means a great singer." Struck by the similarity of these remarks to those made by the apparitions in his vision, he began to doubt whether his dream did not, after all, contain a large alloy of truth, and the more he thought on the subject the more he was led to believe that for once he had really heard the critics of the New York press indulging in an unrestrained expression of honest opinion. MATADOR