Later on I sent them a revised version, as some young Hungarians did me the honour to present me with a silver crown of most exquisite workmanship. When I got back to Vienna, the amateur who had given me the idea of writing the march came to me in comical terror. “For mercy’s sake,” he begged, “never tell that I gave you the idea. The excitement of it has reached Vienna, and I should get into dreadful trouble if it were known.” Of course I promised silence, but, as this terrible affair is long since done with, I may now add that he was called---- No, I only wished to frighten him. I won’t tell! * * * * * I had not intended to include Prague in my round, but someone sent me the Prague _Musical Gazette_ with three appreciative articles on my _King Lear_ by Dr Ambros. I wrote to thank him and mentioned my doubts of my reception by his fellow-citizens who, I had been told, would hear no one but Mozart. His kind reply swept away my misgivings and made me as eager to go as I had hitherto been the reverse. Of Prague my recollections are golden. I gave six concerts, and at the last, had the great joy of having Liszt to hear my _Romeo and Juliet_. At the close of the performance as I begged him to be my interpreter in thanking the artists for their devotion and patience in spending three weeks over my works, two or three of them came up to us and spoke to him. “My office is changed,” he said, turning to me; “these gentlemen request me to convey to you their thanks for the pleasure you have given them and their joy in your pleasure.” This was indeed a red-letter day for me! There are not many such in my life. As the music lovers of Vienna had given me a banquet and a silver-gilt baton, those of Prague gave me a supper and a silver cup. But this same cup poured out such floods of champagne that Liszt, who had made a charming and touching speech in my honour, was shipwrecked therein. At two o’clock in the morning Belloni, his secretary, and I were hard at work in the streets of Prague trying to persuade him to wait till daylight to fight a Bohemian who had drunk more than he had. We were rather anxious about him, as he had to give a concert at noon next day, and at half-past eleven was still asleep. At length he was awakened, jumped into a carriage, walked on to the platform, and played as I verily believe he had never played before. There certainly is a Providence over--pianists. I cannot express my tender regrets for those good Bohemians. “O Prague! when shall I see thee again?” XXX PARIS--RUSSIA--LONDON While trailing round Germany in my old post-chaise I composed my _Damnation de Faust_. Each movement is punctuated by memories of the place where it was written. For instance, the Peasant’s Dance was written by the light of a shop gas-jet one night when I had lost myself in Pesth, and I got up in the middle of the night in Prague to write the song of the angelic choir.