as if something had fallen from the clouds. Then succeeded the most hearty congratulations, and the young composer went to his humble home that night with a fresh inspiration for his life work, brought by this first triumph as a composer.
151.—HÄNDEL'S DUEL.
Not many of the great composers have gone down in history as having taken part as one of the principals in a duel. Among them, perhaps this honor must be awarded solely to Händel. The cause of this affair was to be found in one of the curious customs of his day.
In the early part of the last century it was the custom for the director of an opera to play the accompaniments on a harpsichord which had its place on the stage. Distinguished personages who were present often claimed a seat on the stage and felt free to interpose a running fire of audible conversation and comment. This is now relegated to that part of the audience who have little musical understanding and less of good manners.
In the early part of Handel's career he was associated with a composer named Matheson, a man of talent, but of no great depth, but from whose writings we may catch some enjoyable glimpse of the customs of his time. On the occasion in question, in Matheson's opera of "Cleopatra," the composer was acting the part of Antony, and Händel was seated at the harpsichord. When Antony died, early in the opera, Matheson came into the orchestra and desired to take Handel's seat as director. There was some excuse for this wish as Matheson had been the regular director of the opera.
But Händel, with that irritability which characterized him later in life, crustily refused to give up his place, whereupon a violent quarrel ensued, and as they were leaving the theater Matheson gave him a hearty slap in the face. Händel drew his sword, Matheson defended himself, and a duel was fought then and there. Luckily,
