Lola said nothing. Her leading man however, Mr. Follard, had something to say, and wrote a strong letter to the editor: "Permit me to state, with all due deference to your correspondent's term 'bolt,' that Madame Lola Montez left quietly and unostentatiously.... The attempt to stop her leaving Sydney and prevent her engagement in Melbourne was an exhibition of meanness at which every honest heart must feel disgusted. Alone, in a strange land, without friends or protector, her position as a woman should in itself have saved her from the unmanly abuse heaped upon her and the contemptible attitude manifested by some of her company."
A second adverse factor against which Lola had to contend in Melbourne was that prices had been doubled for her engagement there. This was considered a grievance by the public. The difficulty, however, adjusted itself, for the programme she offered was one that proved specially attractive.
"The highest degree of excitement was," ran the Herald criticism, "produced upon visitors to the Theatre Royal by the actual presence of this extraordinary and gifted being, with the praises of whose beauty and esprit the whole civilised world has resounded.... After curtseying with inimitable grace to the audience, the fair artiste withdrew amidst a fresh volley of cheers."
But Lola, who never missed an opportunity of airing her opinions, aired them now: "At the end of the performance," says a report, "Madame Lola Montez was vociferously called and addressed the audience in an animated speech, commenting upon some remarks that had been published in a certain journal. When a gentleman ventured to laugh while she was enumerating the political benefits she had conferred on Bavaria, the fair orator promptly informed him that such conduct was not usually considered to be courteous."
The Melbourne engagement finished up with a triple bill. The principal item was a novelty she had, the "Spider Dance," which Lola had brought from America. In this she appeared with hundreds of wire spiders sewn on her attenuated ballet skirts; and, when any of them fell off, she had to indulge in pronounced wriggles and contortions to put them back in position. The accompanying movements of her body were held to be by some standards "daring and suggestive." In fact, so much so that the representative of the Argus dubbed the number "the most libertinish and indelicate performance that could possibly be given on the public stage. We feel compelled," he continued solemnly, "to denounce in terms of unmeasured reprobation the performance in which Madame Montez here figures." Yet, Sir Charles Hotham, the Governor, together with Lady Hotham and their guests, had witnessed it without sustaining any serious damage. But perhaps they were made of tougher material.