[
  {
    "heading": "No. 2",
    "body": "Verona, Jan. 1770.\n\nMY VERY DEAREST SISTER,--\n\nI have at last got a letter a span long after hoping so much for an\nanswer that I lost patience; and I had good cause to do so before\nreceiving yours at last. The German blockhead having said his say, now\nthe Italian one begins. Lei e piu franca nella lingua italiana di quel\nche mi ho immaginato. Lei mi dica la cagione perche lei non fu nella\ncommedia che hanno giocata i Cavalieri. Adesso sentiamo sempre una opera\ntitolata Il Ruggiero. Oronte, il padre di Bradamante, e un principe (il\nSignor Afferi) bravo cantante, un baritono, [Footnote: \"You are more\nversed in the Italian language than I believed. Tell me why you were not\none of the actors in the comedy performed by the Cavaliers. We are now\nhearing an opera called 'Il Ruggiero.' Oronte, the father of Bradamante,\nis a Prince (acted by Afferi, a good singer, a baritone).\"] but very\naffected when he speaks out a falsetto, but not quite so much so as\nTibaldi in Vienna. Bradamante innamorata di Ruggiero (ma [Footnote:\n\"Bradamante is enamored of Ruggiero, but\"]--she is to marry Leone, but\nwill not) fa una povera Baronessa, che ha avuto una gran disgrazia, ma\nnon so la quale; recita [Footnote: \"Pretends to be a poor Baroness who\nhas met with some great misfortune, but what it is I don't know, she\nperforms\"] under an assumed name, but the name I forget; ha una voce\npassabile, e la statura non sarebbe male, ma distuona come il diavolo.\nRuggiero, un ricco principe innamorato di Bradamante, e un musico; canta\nun poco Manzuolisch [Footnote: Manzuoli was a celebrated soprano, from\nwhom Mozart had lessons in singing when in London.] ed ha una bellissima\nvoce forte ed e gia vecchio; ha 55 anni, ed ha una [Footnote: \"She has\na tolerable voice, and her appearance is in her favor, but she sings out\nof tune like a devil Ruggiero, a rich Prince enamored of Bradamante, is\na musico, and sings rather in Manzuoli's style, and has a fine powerful\nvoice, though quite old; he is fifty-five, and has a\"] flexible voice.\nLeone is to marry Bradamante--richississimo e, [Footnote: \"Immensely\nrich.\"] but whether he is rich off the stage I can't say. La moglie di\nAfferi, che ha una bellissima voce, ma e tanto susurro nel teatro che\nnon si sente niente. Irene fa una sorella di Lolli, del gran violinista\nche habbiamo sentito a Vienna, a una [Footnote: \"Afferi's wife has a\nmost beautiful voice, but sings so softly on the stage that you really\nhear nothing at all. A sister of Lolli, the great violinist whom we\nheard at Vienna, acts Irene; she has a\"] very harsh voce, e canta sempre\n[Footnote: \"Voice, and always sings\"] a quaver too tardi o troppo a\nbuon' ora. Granno fa un signore, che non so come si chiame; e la prima\nvolta che lui recita. [Footnote: \"Slow or too fast. Ganno is acted by\na gentleman whose name I never heard. It is his first appearance on the\nstage.\"] There is a ballet between each act. We have a good dancer here\ncalled Roessler. He is a German, and dances right well. The very last\ntime we were at the opera (but not, I hope, the very last time we ever\nshall be there) we got M. Roessler to come up to our palco, (for M.\nCarlotti gives us his box, of which we have the key,) and conversed with\nhim. Apropos, every one is now in maschera, and one great convenience\nis, that if you fasten your mask on your hat you have the privilege\nof not taking off your hat when any one speaks to you; and you never\naddress them by name, but always as \"Servitore umilissimo, Signora\nMaschera.\" Cospetto di Bacco! that is fun! The most strange of all is\nthat we go to bed at half-past seven! Se lei indovinasse questo, io diro\ncertamente che lei sia la madre di tutti gli indovini. [Footnote: \"If\nyou guess this, I shall say that you are the mother of all guessers.\"]\nKiss mamma's hand for me, and to yourself I send a thousand kisses, and\nassure you that I shall always be your affectionate brother.\n\nPortez-vous bien, et aimez-moi toujours.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 3",
    "body": "Milan, Jan. 26, 1770.\n\nI REJOICE in my heart that you were so well amused at the sledging\nparty you write to me about, and I wish you a thousand opportunities of\npleasure, so that you may pass your life merrily. But one thing vexes\nme, which is, that you allowed Herr von Molk [an admirer of this pretty\nyoung girl of eighteen] to sigh and sentimentalize, and that you did not\ngo with him in his sledge, that he might have upset you. What a lot of\npocket-handkerchiefs he must have used that day to dry the tears he shed\nfor you! He no doubt, too, swallowed at least three ounces of cream of\ntartar to drive away the horrid evil humors in his body. I know nothing\nnew except that Herr Gellert, the Leipzig poet, [Footnote: Old Mozart\nprized Gellert's poems so highly, that on one occasion he wrote to him\nexpressing his admiration.] is dead, and has written no more poetry\nsince his death. Just before beginning this letter I composed an air\nfrom the \"Demetrio\" of Metastasio, which begins thus, \"Misero tu non\nsei.\"\n\nThe opera at Mantua was very good. They gave \"Demetrio.\" The prima donna\nsings well, but is inanimate, and if you did not see her acting, but\nonly singing, you might suppose she was not singing at all, for she\ncan't open her mouth, and whines out everything; but this is nothing new\nto us. The seconda donna looks like a grenadier, and has a very powerful\nvoice; she really does not sing badly, considering that this is her\nfirst appearance. Il primo uomo, il musico, sings beautifully, but his\nvoice is uneven; his name is Caselli. Il secondo uomo is quite old, and\ndoes not at all please me. The tenor's name is Ottini; he does not sing\nunpleasingly, but with effort, like all Italian tenors. We know him\nvery well. The name of the second I don't know; he is still young, but\nnothing at all remarkable. Primo ballerino good; prima ballerina good,\nand people say pretty, but I have not seen her near. There is a grotesco\nwho jumps cleverly, but cannot write as I do--just as pigs grunt.\nThe orchestra is tolerable. In Cremona, the orchestra is good, and\nSpagnoletta is the name of the first violinist there. Prima donna very\npassable--rather ancient, I fancy, and as ugly as sin. She does not sing\nas well as she acts, and is the wife of a violin-player at the opera.\nHer name is Masci. The opera was the \"Clemenza di Tito.\" Seconda donna\nnot ugly on the stage, young, but nothing superior. Primo uomo, un\nmusico, Cicognani, a fine voice, and a beautiful cantabile. The other\ntwo musici young and passable. The tenor's name is non lo so [I don't\nknow what]. He has a pleasing exterior, and resembles Le Roi at Vienna.\nBallerino primo good, but an ugly dog. There was a ballerina who danced\nfar from badly, and, what is a capo d'opera, she is anything but plain,\neither on the stage or off it. The rest were the usual average. I cannot\nwrite much about the Milan opera, for we did not go there, but we heard\nthat it was not successful. Primo uomo, Aprile, who sings well, and\nhas a fine even voice; we heard him at a grand church festival. Madame\nPiccinelli, from Paris, who sang at one of our concerts, acts at the\nopera. Herr Pick, who danced at Vienna, is now dancing here. The opera\nis \"Didone abbandonata,\" but it is not to be given much longer. Signor\nPiccini, who is writing the next opera, is here. I am told that the\ntitle is to be \"Cesare in Egitto.\"\n\nWOLFGANG DE MOZART,\n\nNoble of Hohenthal and attached to the Exchequer.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 4",
    "body": "Milan, Feb. 10, 1770.\n\nSPEAK of the wolf, and you see his ears! I am quite well, and\nimpatiently expecting an answer from you. I kiss mamma's hand, and\nsend you a little note and a little kiss; and remain, as before,\nyour----What? Your aforesaid merry-andrew brother, Wolfgang in Germany,\nAmadeo in Italy.\n\nDE MORZANTINI.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 5",
    "body": "Milan, Feb. 17, 1770.\n\nNow I am in for it! My Mariandel! I am so glad that you were so\ntremendously merry. Say to nurse Urserl that I still think I sent back\nall her songs, but if, engrossed by high and mighty thoughts of Italy,\nI carried one off with me, I shall not fail, if I find it, to enclose it\nin one of my letters. Addio, my children, farewell! I kiss mamma's hands\na thousand times, and send you a thousand kisses and salutes on your\nqueer monkey face. Per fare il fine, I am yours, &c.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 6",
    "body": "Milan, Carnival, Erchtag.\n\nMANY kisses to mamma and to you. I am fairly crazed with so much\nbusiness, [Footnote: Concerts and compositions of every kind occupied\nMozart. The principal result of his stay in Milan was, that the young\nmaestro got the scrittura of an opera for the ensuing season. As the\nlibretto was to be sent to them, they could first make a journey through\nItaly with easy minds. The opera was \"Mitridate, Re di Ponto.\"] so I\ncan't possibly write any more.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 7",
    "body": "Milan, March 3, 1770.\n\nCARA SORELLA MIA,--\n\nI am heartily glad that you have had so much amusement. Perhaps you may\nthink that I have not been as merry as you; but, indeed, I cannot sum\nup all we have done. I think we have been at least six or seven times at\nthe opera and the feste di ballo, which, as in Vienna, begin after the\nopera, but with this difference, that at Vienna the dancing is more\norderly. We also saw the facchinata and chiccherata. The first is\na masquerade, an amusing sight, because the men go as facchini, or\nporters; there was also a barca filled with people, and a great number\non foot besides; and five or six sets of trumpets and kettledrums,\nbesides several bands of violins and other instruments. The chiccherata\nis also a masquerade. What the people of Milan call chicchere, we call\npetits maitres, or fops. They were all on horseback, which was a pretty\nsight. I am as happy now to hear that Herr von Aman [Footnote: The\nfather had written in a previous letter, \"Herr von Aman's accident,\nof which you wrote to us, not only distressed us very much, but cost\nWolfgang many tears. You know how sensitive he is\"] is better, as I was\ngrieved when you mentioned that he had met with an accident. What\nkind of mask did Madame Rosa wear, and Herr von Molk, and Herr von\nSchiedenhofen? Pray write this to me, if you know it; your doing so will\noblige me very much. Kiss mamma's hands for me a thousand million times,\nand a thousand to yourself from \"Catch him who can!\" Why, here he is!",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 8",
    "body": "Bologna, March 24, 1770.\n\nOh, you busy creature!\n\nHaving been so long idle, I thought it would do me no harm to set to\nwork again for a short time. On the post-days, when the German letters\ncome, all that I eat and drink tastes better than usual. I beg you will\nlet me know who are to sing in the oratorio, and also its title. Let me\nhear how you like the Haydn minuets, and whether they are better than\nthe first. From my heart I rejoice to hear that Herr von Aman is now\nquite recovered; pray say to him that he must take great care of himself\nand beware of any unusual exertion. Be sure you tell him this. I intend\nshortly to send you a minuet that Herr Pick danced on the stage, and\nwhich every one in Milan was dancing at the feste di ballo, only\nthat you may see by it how slowly people dance. The minuet itself is\nbeautiful. Of course it comes from Vienna, so no doubt it is either\nTeller's or Starzer's. It has a great many notes. Why? Because it is a\ntheatrical minuet, which is in slow time. The Milan and Italian minuets,\nhowever, have a vast number of notes, and are slow and with a quantity\nof bars; for instance, the first part has sixteen, the second twenty,\nand even twenty-four.\n\nWe made the acquaintance of a singer in Parma, and also heard her to\ngreat advantage in her own house--I mean the far-famed Bastardella. She\nhas, first, a fine voice; second, a flexible organ; third, an incredibly\nhigh compass. She sang the following notes and passages in my presence.\n\n[Here, Mozart illustrates with about 20 measures of music]",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 9",
    "body": "Rome, April 14, 1770.\n\nI AM thankful to say that my stupid pen and I are all right, so we send\na thousand kisses to you both. I wish that my sister were in Rome,\nfor this city would assuredly delight her, because St. Peter's is\nsymmetrical, and many other things in Rome are also symmetrical. Papa\nhas just told me that the loveliest flowers are being carried past at\nthis moment. That I am no wiseacre is pretty well known.\n\nOh! I have one annoyance--there is only a single bed in our lodgings,\nso mamma may easily imagine that I get no rest beside papa. I rejoice at\nthe thoughts of a new lodging. I have just finished sketching St. Peter\nwith his keys, St. Paul with his sword, and St. Luke with--my sister,\n&c., &c. I had the honor of kissing St. Peter's foot at San Pietro, and\nas I have the misfortune to be so short, your good old\n\nWOLFGANG MOZART\n\nwas lifted up!",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 15",
    "body": "Naples, June 16, 1770.\n\nI AM well and lively and happy as ever, and as glad to travel. I made\nan excursion on the Mediterranean. I kiss mamma's hand and Nannerl's a\nthousand times, and am your son, Steffl, and your brother, Hansl.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 17",
    "body": "Bologna, July 21, 1770.\n\nI WISH mamma joy of her name-day, and hope that she may live for many\nhundred years to come and retain good health, which I always ask of\nGod, and pray to Him for you both every day. I cannot do honor to the\noccasion except with some Loretto bells, and wax tapers, and caps, and\ngauze when I return. In the mean time, good-bye, mamma. I kiss your hand\na thousand times, and remain, till death, your attached son.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 19",
    "body": "Bologna, August 4, 1770.\n\nI GRIEVE from my heart to hear that Jungfrau Marthe is still so ill, and\nI pray every day that she may recover. Tell her from me that she must\nbeware of much fatigue and eat only what is strongly salted [she\nwas consumptive]. A propos, did you give my letter to Robinsiegerl?\n[Sigismund Robinig, a friend of his]. You did not mention it when you\nwrote. I beg that when you see him you will tell him he is not quite\nto forget me. I can't possibly write better, for my pen is only fit to\nwrite music and not a letter. My violin has been newly strung, and I\nplay every day. I only mention this because mamma wished to know whether\nI still played the violin. I have had the honor to go at least six times\nby myself into the churches to attend their splendid ceremonies. In the\nmean time I have composed four Italian symphonies [overtures], besides\nfive or six arias, and also a motett.\n\nDoes Herr Deibl often come to see you? Does he still honor you by his\namusing conversation? And the noble Herr Carl von Vogt, does he still\ndeign to listen to your tiresome voices? Herr von Schiedenhofen\nmust assist you often in writing minuets, otherwise he shall have no\nsugar-plums.\n\nIf time permitted, it would be my duty to trouble Herr von Molk and Herr\nvon Schiedenhofen with a few lines; but as that most indispensable of\nall things is wanting, I hope they will forgive my neglect, and consider\nme henceforth absolved from this honor. I have begun various cassations\n[a kind of divertimento], so I have thus responded to your desire. I\ndon't think the piece in question can be one of mine, for who would\nventure to publish as his own composition what is, in reality, written\nby the son of the Capellmeister, and whose mother and sister are in\nthe same town? Addio--farewell! My sole recreations consist in dancing\nEnglish hornpipes and cutting capers. Italy is a land of sleep; I am\nalways drowsy here. Addio--good-bye!",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 25",
    "body": "Milan, Oct. 20, 1770.\n\nMY DEAR MAMMA,--\n\nI cannot write much, for my fingers ache from writing out such a\nquantity of recitative. I hope you will pray for me that my opera\n[\"Mitridate Re di Ponto\"] may go off well, and that we soon may have\na joyful meeting. I kiss your hands a thousand times, and have a great\ndeal to say to my sister; but what? That is known only to God and\nmyself. Please God, I hope soon to be able to confide it to her\nverbally; in the mean time, I send her a thousand kisses. My compliments\nto all kind friends. We have lost our good Martherl, but we hope that by\nthe mercy of God she is now in a state of blessedness.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 29",
    "body": "MY DARLING SISTER,--\n\nIt is long since I have written to you, having been so much occupied\nwith my opera. As I have now more time, I shall attend better to my\nduty. My opera, thank God, is popular, as the theatre is full every\nevening, which causes great surprise, for many say that during all the\ntime they have lived in Milan they never saw any first opera so crowded\nas on this occasion. I am thankful to say that both papa and I are quite\nwell, and I hope at Easter to have an opportunity of relating everything\nto mamma and you. Addio! A propos, the copyist was with us yesterday,\nand said that he was at that moment engaged in transcribing my opera for\nthe Lisbon court. Good-bye, my dear Madlle. sister,\n\nAlways and ever your attached brother.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 30",
    "body": "Venice, Feb 15, 1771\n\nMY VERY DEAR SISTER,--\n\nYou have, no doubt, heard from papa that I am well. I have nothing to\nwrite about, except my love and kisses to mamma. Give the enclosed--Al\nsig. Giovanni. La signora perla ricono la riverisce tanto come anche\ntutte le altre perle, e li assicuro che tutte sono inamorata di lei,\ne che sperano che lei prendera per moglie tutte, come i Turchi per\ncontenar tutte sei. Questo scrivo in casa di Sign. Wider, il quale e un\ngalant' uomo come lei melo scrisse, ed jeri abbiamo finito il carnavale\nda lui, cenardo da lui e poi ballammo ed andammo colle perle in\ncompagnie nel ridotto nuovo, che mi piacque assai. Quando sto dal Sign.\nWider e guardando fuori della finestra vedo la casa dove lei abito\nquando lei fu in Venezia. Il nuovo non so niente. Venezia mi piace\nassai. Il mio complimento al Sign., suo padre e madre, sorelle,\nfratelli, e a tutti i miei amici ed amiche. Addio!\n\n[Footnote: \"To Herr Johannes [Hagenauer] The fair 'pearl' has the same\nhigh opinion of you that all the other 'pearls' here have. I assure\nyou that they are all in love with you, and their hope is that you will\nmarry them all (like the Turks), and so please them every one. I write\nthis in the house of Signor Wider, who is an excellent man and exactly\nwhat you wrote to me, yesterday we finished the Carnival in his house.\nWe supped there and then danced, and went afterwards, in company with\nthe 'pearls,' to the new masquerade, which amused me immensely. When\nI look out of the window at Signor Wider's, I see the house that\nyou inhabited in Venice. I have no news. I like Venice very well. My\ncompliments to your father and mother, brothers and sisters, and all my\nfriends. Adieu!\"]",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 43",
    "body": "Milan, Nov. 7, 1772.\n\nDon't be startled at seeing my writing instead of papa's. These are the\nreasons: first, we are at Herr von Oste's, and the Herr Baron Christiani\nis also here, and they have so much to talk about, that papa cannot\npossibly find time to write; and, secondly, he is too lazy. We arrived\nhere at 4 o'clock this afternoon, and are both well. All our good\nfriends are in the country or at Mantua, except Herr von Taste and his\nwife, who send you and my sister their compliments. Herr Misliweczeck [a\nyoung composer of operas from Paris] is still here. There is not a word\nof truth either in the Italian war, which is so eagerly discussed in\nGermany, or in the castles here being fortified. Forgive my bad writing.\n\nAddress your letters direct to us, for it is not the custom here, as in\nGermany, to carry the letters round; we are obliged to go ourselves to\nfetch them on post-days. There is nothing new here; we expect news from\nSalzburg.\n\nNot having a word more to say, I must conclude. Our kind regards to all\nour friends. We kiss mamma 1,000,000,000 times (I have no room for more\nnoughts); and as for my sister, I would rather embrace her in persona\nthan in imagination.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 50",
    "body": "Vienna, August 14, 1773.\n\nI HOPE that your Majesty [Footnote 1: O. Jahn remarks that this epithet\nis a reminiscence of a fantastic game that often amused the boy on his\njourneys. He imagined a kingdom, the inhabitants of which were endowed\nwith every gift that could make them good and happy.] enjoys the best\nstate of health; and yet that now and then--or rather sometimes--or,\nbetter still, from time to time--or, still better, qualche volta, as\nthe Italians say--your Majesty will impart to me some of your grave\nand important thoughts (emanating from that most admirable and solid\njudgment which, in addition to beauty, your Majesty so eminently\npossesses; and thus, although in such tender years, my Queen casts into\nthe shade not only the generality of men but even the gray-haired).\n\nP. S. This is a most sensible production.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 53",
    "body": "Munich, Dec. 28, 1774.\n\nMy Dearest Sister,\n\nI entreat you not to forget, before your journey, [FOOTNOTE: Nannerl had\nalso the most eager desire to see the new opera, and the father at last\nsucceeded in getting a lodging for her in the large market place, in the\nhouse of a widow, \"a black-eyed brunette,\" Frau von Durst.] to perform\nyour promise, that is, to make a certain visit. I have my reasons for\nthis. Pray present my kind regards in that quarter, but in the most\nimpressive and tender manner--the most tender; and, oh!----but I need\nnot be in such anxiety on the subject, for I know my sister and her\npeculiarly loving nature, and I feel quite convinced that she will do\nall she can to give me pleasure--and from self-interest, too--rather\na spiteful hit that! [Nannerl was considered a little selfish by her\nfamily.]",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 54",
    "body": "Munich, Dec. 30, 1774.\n\nI BEG my compliments to Roxalana, who is to drink tea this evening with\nthe Sultan, All sorts of pretty speeches to Madlle. Mizerl; she must not\ndoubt my love. I have her constantly before my eyes in her fascinating\nneglige. I have seen many pretty girls here, but not one whose beauty\ncan be compared with hers. Do not forget to bring the variations on\nEkart's menuet d'exaude, and also those on Fischer's minuet. I was at\nthe theatre last night. The play was \"Der Mode nach der Haushaltung,\"\nwhich was admirably acted. My kind regards to all my friends. I trust\nthat you will not fail to--Farewell! I hope to see you soon in Munich.\nFrau von Durst sends you her remembrances. Is it true that Hagenauer is\nbecome a professor of sculpture in Vienna? Kiss mamma's hand for me,\nand now I stop for to-day. Wrap yourself up warmly on your journey, I\nentreat, or else you may chance to pass the fourteen days of your visit\nin the house, stifling beside a stove, unable once to move. I see the\nvivid lightning flash, and fear there soon will be a crash!\n\nYour brother.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 56",
    "body": "To HIS MOTHER.\n\nMunich, Jan. 14, 1775.\n\nGOD be praised! My opera was given yesterday, the 13th, and proved so\nsuccessful that I cannot possibly describe all the tumult. In the first\nplace, the whole theatre was so crammed that many people were obliged\nto go away. After each aria there was invariably a tremendous uproar and\nclapping of hands, and cries of Viva Maestro! Her Serene Highness the\nElectress and the Dowager (who were opposite me) also called out Bravo!\nWhen the opera was over, during the interval when all is usually quiet\ntill the ballet begins, the applause and shouts of Bravo! were renewed;\nsometimes there was a lull, but only to recommence afresh, and so forth.\nI afterwards went with papa to a room through which the Elector and\nthe whole court were to pass. I kissed the hands of the Elector and the\nElectress and the other royalties, who were all very gracious. At an\nearly hour this morning the Prince Bishop of Chiemsee [who had most\nprobably procured the scrittura for his young friend Wolfgang] sent to\ncongratulate me that the opera had proved such a brilliant success in\nevery respect. As to our return home, it is not likely to be soon, nor\nshould mamma wish it, for she must know well what a good thing it is to\nhave a little breathing time. We shall come quite soon enough to----.\nOne most just and undeniable reason is, that my opera is to be given\nagain on Friday next, and I am very necessary at the performance, or it\nmight be difficult to recognize it again. There are very odd ways here.\n1000 kisses to Miss Bimberl [the dog].\n\nThe Archbishop of Salzburg, who was very reluctant to admit the merits\nof his Concertmeister, was an involuntary witness of the universal\napprobation bestowed on Wolfgang's opera, although he would not go\nto hear it himself. On the 18th of January, 1775, Wolfgang added the\nfollowing lines to his father's letter:--",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 59",
    "body": "Wasserburg, Sept. 23, 1777.\n\nMon Tres-Cher Pere,--\n\nGod be praised! we reached Waging, Stain, Ferbertshaim, and Wasserburg\nsafely. Now for a brief report of our journey. When we arrived at the\ncity gates, we were kept waiting for nearly a quarter of an hour till\nthey could be thrown open for us, as they were under repair. Near Schinn\nwe met a drove of cows, and one of these very remarkable, for each side\nwas a different color, which we never before saw. When at last we got to\nSchinn, we met a carriage, which stopped, and ecce, our postilion called\nout we must change. \"I don't care,\" said I. Mamma and I were parleying,\nwhen a portly gentleman came up, whose physiognomy I at once recognized;\nhe was a Memmingen merchant. He stared at me for some time, and at last\nsaid, \"You surely are Herr Mozart?\" \"At your service,\" said I; \"I\nknow you, too, by sight, but not your name. I saw you, a year ago, at\nMirabell's [the palace garden in Salzburg] at a concert.\" He then told\nme his name, which, thank God! I have forgotten; but I retained one of\nprobably more importance to me. When I saw this gentleman in Salzburg,\nhe was accompanied by a young man whose brother was now with him, and\nwho lives in Memmingen. His name is Herr Unhold, and he pressed me very\nmuch to come to Memmingen if possible. We sent a hundred thousand loves\nto papa by them, and to my sister, the madcap, which they promised to\ndeliver without fail. This change of carriages was a great bore to me,\nfor I wished to send a letter back from Waging by the postilion. We then\n(after a slight meal) had the honor of being conveyed as far as Stain,\nby the aforesaid post-horses, in an hour and a half. At Waging I was\nalone for a few minutes with the clergyman, who looked quite amazed,\nknowing nothing of our history. From Stain we were driven by a most\ntiresome phlegmatic postilion--N. B., in driving I mean; we thought we\nnever were to arrive at the next stage. At last we did arrive, as\nyou may see from my writing this letter. (Mamma is half asleep.) From\nFerbertshaim to Wasserburg all went on well. Viviamo come i principi;\nwe want nothing except you, dear papa. Well, this is the will of God; no\ndoubt all will go on right. I hope to hear that papa is as well as I am\nand as happy. Nothing comes amiss to me; I am quite a second papa, and\nlook after everything.[Footnote: The father had been very uneasy at the\nidea of allowing the inexperienced youth, whose unsuspicious good-nature\nexposed him still more to danger, to travel alone; for the mother also\nwas not very expert in travelling.] I settled from the first to pay the\npostilions, for I can talk to such fellows better than mamma. At the\nStern, in Wasserburg, we are capitally served; I am treated here like\na prince. About half an hour ago (mamma being engaged at the time) the\nBoots knocked at the door to take my orders about various things, and\nI gave them to him with the same grave air that I have in my portrait.\nMamma is just going to bed. We both beg that papa will be careful of\nhis health, not go out too early, nor fret, [Footnote: The Father was\nstrongly disposed to hypochondria.] but laugh and be merry and in good\nspirits. We think the Mufti H. C. [the Archbishop Hieronymus Colloredo]\na MUFF, but we know God to be compassionate, merciful, and loving. I\nkiss papa's hands a thousand times, and embrace my SISTER MADCAP as\noften as I have to-day taken snuff. I think I have left my diplomas at\nhome? [his appointment at court.] I beg you will send them to me soon.\nMy pen is rude, and I am not refined.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 61",
    "body": "Munich, Sept. 29, 1777.\n\nTRUE enough, a great many kind friends, but unluckily most of them have\nlittle or nothing in their power. I was with Count Seeau yesterday, at\nhalf-past ten o'clock, and found him graver and less natural than the\nfirst time; but it was only in appearance, for to-day I was at Prince\nZeill's [Bishop of Chiemsee--No. 56], who, with all courtesy, said\nto me, \"I don't think we shall effect much here. During dinner, at\nNymphenburg, I spoke privately to the Elector, who replied: 'It is\ntoo soon at this moment; he must leave this and go to Italy and become\nfamous. I do not actually reject him, but these are too early days\nas yet.'\" There it is! Most of these grandees have such paroxysms of\nenthusiasm for Italy. Still, he advised me to go to the Elector, and\nto place my case before him as I had previously intended. I spoke\nconfidentially at dinner to-day with Herr Woschitka [violoncellist in\nthe Munich court orchestra, and a member of the Elector's private band],\nand he appointed me to come to-morrow at nine o'clock, when he will\ncertainly procure me an audience. We are very good friends now. He\ninsisted on knowing the name of my informant; but I said to him, \"Rest\nassured that I am your friend and shall continue to be so; I am in turn\nequally convinced of your friendship, so you must be satisfied with\nthis.\" But to return to my narrative. The Bishop of Chiemsee also spoke\nto the Electress when tete-a-tete with her. She shrugged her shoulders,\nand said she would do her best, but was very doubtful as to her success.\nI now return to Count Seeau, who asked Prince Zeill (after he had told\nhim everything). \"Do you know whether Mozart has not enough from his\nfamily to enable him to remain here with a little assistance? I should\nreally like to keep him.\" Prince Zeill answered: \"I don't know, but\nI doubt it much; all you have to do is to speak to himself on the\nsubject.\" This, then, was the cause of Count Seeau being so thoughtful\non the following day. I like being here, and I am of the same opinion\nwith many of my friends, that if I could only remain here for a year\nor two, I might acquire both money and fame by my works, and then more\nprobably be sought by the court than be obliged to seek it myself. Since\nmy return here Herr Albert has a project in his head, the fulfilment of\nwhich does not seem to me impossible. It is this: He wishes to form an\nassociation of ten kind friends, each of these to subscribe 1 ducat (50\ngulden) monthly, 600 florins a year. If in addition to this I had even\n200 florins per annum from Count Seeau, this would make 800 florins\naltogether. How does papa like this idea? Is it not friendly? Ought not\nI to accept it if they are in earnest? I am perfectly satisfied with\nit; for I should be near Salzburg, and if you, dearest papa, were seized\nwith a fancy to leave Salzburg (which from my heart I wish you were) and\nto pass your life in Munich, how easy and pleasant would it be! For if\nwe are obliged to live in Salzburg with 504 florins, surely we might\nlive in Munich with 800.\n\nTo-day, the 30th, after a conversation with Herr Woschitka, I went to\ncourt by appointment. Every one was in hunting-costume. Baron Kern was\nthe chamberlain on service. I might have gone there last night, but\nI could not offend M. Woschitka, who himself offered to find me an\nopportunity of speaking to the Elector. At 10 o'clock he took me into a\nnarrow little room, through which his Royal Highness was to pass on his\nway to hear mass, before going to hunt. Count Seeau went by, and greeted\nme very kindly: \"How are you, dear Mozart?\" When the Elector came up to\nme, I said, \"Will your Royal Highness permit me to pay my homage and\nto offer your Royal Highness my services?\" \"So you have finally left\nSalzburg?\" \"I have left it forever, your Royal Highness. I only asked\nleave to make a journey, and being refused, I was obliged to take this\nstep, although I have long intended to leave Salzburg, which is no place\nfor me, I feel sure.\" \"Good heavens! you are quite a young man. But your\nfather is still in Salzburg?\" \"Yes, your Royal Highness; he humbly lays\nhis homage at your feet, &c., &c. I have already been three times in\nItaly. I have written three operas, and am a member of the Bologna\nAcademy; I underwent a trial where several maestri toiled and labored\nfor four or five hours, whereas I finished my work in one. This is\na sufficient testimony that I have abilities to serve any court. My\ngreatest wish is to be appointed by your Royal Highness, who is himself\nsuch a great &c., &c.\" \"But, my good young friend, I regret that there\nis not a single vacancy. If there were only a vacancy!\" \"I can assure\nyour Royal Highness that I would do credit to Munich.\" \"Yes, but what\ndoes that avail when there is no vacancy?\" This he said as he was moving\non; so I bowed and took leave of his Royal Highness. Herr Woschitka\nadvises me to place myself often in the way of the Elector. This\nafternoon I went to Count Salern's. His daughter is a maid of honor, and\nwas one of the hunting-party. Ravani and I were in the street when the\nwhole procession passed. The Elector and the Electress noticed me very\nkindly. Young Countess Salern recognized me at once, and waved her\nhand to me repeatedly. Baron Rumling, whom I had previously seen in the\nantechamber, never was so courteous to me as on this occasion. I will\nsoon write to you what passed with Salern. He was very kind, polite, and\nstraightforward.--P. S. Ma tres-chere soeur, next time I mean to write\nyou a letter all for yourself. My remembrances to B. C. M. R. and\nvarious other letters of the alphabet. Adieu! A man built a house here\nand inscribed on it: \"Building is beyond all doubt an immense pleasure,\nbut I little thought that it would cost so much treasure.\" During the\nnight some one wrote underneath, \"You ought first to have counted the\ncost.\"",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 62",
    "body": "Munich, Oct. 2, 1777.\n\nYESTERDAY, October 1st, I was again at Count Salern's, and to-day I even\ndined with him. I have played a great deal during the last three days,\nand with right good will too. Papa must not, however, imagine that I\nlike to be at Count Salern's on account of the young lady; by no means,\nfor she is unhappily in waiting, and therefore never at home, but I am\nto see her at court to-morrow morning, at ten o'clock, in company with\nMadame Hepp, formerly Madlle. Tosson. On Saturday the court leaves this,\nand does not return till the 20th. To-morrow I am to dine with Madame\nand Madlle. de Branca, the latter being a kind of half pupil of mine,\nfor Sigl seldom comes, and Becke, who usually accompanies her on the\nflute, is not here. On the three days that I was at Count Salern's I\nplayed a great many things extempore--two Cassations [Divertimentos]\nfor the Countess, and the finale and Rondo, and the latter by heart.\nYou cannot imagine the delight this causes Count Salern. He understands\nmusic, for he was constantly saying Bravo! while other gentlemen were\ntaking snuff, humming and hawing, and clearing their throats, or holding\nforth. I said to him, \"How I do wish the Elector were only here, that he\nmight hear me play! He knows nothing of me--he does not know what I can\ndo. How sad it is that these great gentlemen should believe what any one\ntells them, and do not choose to judge for themselves! BUT IT IS ALWAYS\nSO. Let him put me to the test. He may assemble all the composers in\nMunich, and also send in quest of some from Italy and France, Germany,\nand England and Spain, and I will undertake to write against them all.\"\nI related to him all that had occurred to me in Italy, and begged him,\nif the conversation turned on me, to bring in these things. He said, \"I\nhave very little influence, but the little that is in my power I will\ndo with pleasure.\" He is also decidedly of opinion that if I could only\nremain here, the affair would come right of itself. It would not be\nimpossible for me to contrive to live, were I alone here, for I should\nget at least 300 florins from Count Seeau. My board would cost little,\nfor I should be often invited out; and even were it not so, Albert would\nalways be charmed to see me at dinner in his house. I eat little, drink\nwater, and for dessert take only a little fruit and a small glass\nof wine. Subject to the advice of my kind friends, I would make the\nfollowing contract with Count Seeau:--I would engage to produce every\nyear four German operas, partly buffe and partly serie; from each of\nthese I should claim the profits of one performance, for such is the\ncustom here. This alone would bring me in 500 florins, which along with\nmy salary would make up 800 florins, but in all probability more; for\nReiner, an actor and singer, cleared 200 florins by his benefit, and\nI am VERY MUCH BELOVED HERE, and how much more so should I be if I\ncontributed to the elevation of the national theatre of Germany in\nmusic! And this would certainly be the case with me, for I was inspired\nwith the most eager desire to write when I heard the German operettas.\nThe name of the first singer here is Keiserin; her father is cook to a\ncount here; she is a very pleasing girl, and pretty on the stage; I have\nnot yet seen her near. She is a native of this place. When I heard her\nit was only her third appearance on the stage. She has a fine voice, not\npowerful, though by no means weak, very pure, and a good intonation.\nHer instructor is Valesi; and her style of singing shows that her master\nknows how to sing as well as how to teach. When she sustains her\nvoice for a couple of bars, I am quite surprised at the beauty of her\ncrescendo and decrescendo. She as yet takes her shakes slowly, and this\nI highly approve of, for it will be all the more pure and clear if she\never wishes to take it quicker; besides, it is easier when quick. She is\na great favorite with the people here, and with me.\n\nMamma was in the pit; she went as early as half-past four o'clock to get\na place. I, however, did not go till half-past six o'clock, for I can go\nto any box I please, being pretty well known. I was in the Brancas' box;\nI looked at Keiserin with my opera-glass, and at times she drew tears\nfrom my eyes. I often called out bravo, bravissimo, for I always\nremembered that it was only her third appearance. The piece was Das\nFischermadchen, a very good translation of Piccini's opera, with his\nmusic. As yet they have no original pieces, but are now anxious soon\nto give a German opera seria, and a strong wish prevails that I should\ncompose it. The aforesaid Professor Huber is one of those who wish\nthis. I shall now go to bed, for I can sit up no longer. It is just ten\no'clock. Baron Rumling lately paid me the following compliment: \"The\ntheatre is my delight--good actors and actresses, good singers, and a\nclever composer, such as yourself.\" This is indeed only talk, and words\nare not of much value, but he never before spoke to me in this way.\n\nI write this on the 3d of October. To-morrow the court departs, and does\nnot return till the 20th. If it had remained here, I would have taken\nthe step I intended, and stayed on here for a time; but as it is, I hope\nto resume my journey with mamma next Tuesday. But meanwhile the project\nof the associated friends, which I lately wrote to you about, may be\nrealized, so that when we no longer care to travel we shall have a\nresource to fall back upon. Herr von Krimmel was to-day with the Bishop\nof Chiemsee, with whom he has a good deal to do on the subject of salt.\nHe is a strange man; here he is called \"your Grace,\"--that is, THE\nLACKEYS do so. Having a great desire that I should remain here, he spoke\nvery zealously to the Prince in my favor. He said to me, \"Only let me\nalone; I will speak to the Prince, and I have a right to do so, for I\nhave done many things to oblige him.\" The Prince promised him that I\nshould POSITIVELY be appointed, but the affair cannot be so quickly\nsettled. On the return of the court he is to speak to the Elector with\nall possible earnestness and zeal. At eight o'clock this morning I\ncalled on Count Seeau. I was very brief, and merely said, \"I have only\ncome, your Excellency, to explain my case clearly. I have been told that\nI ought to go to Italy, which is casting a reproach on me. I was sixteen\nmonths in Italy, I have written three operas, and all this is notorious\nenough. What further occurred, your Excellency will see from these\npapers.\" And after showing him the diplomata, I added, \"I only show\nthese and say this to your Excellency that, in the event of my being\nspoken of, and any injustice done me, your Excellency may with good\ngrounds take my part.\" He asked me if I was now going to France. I said\nI intended to remain in Germany; by this, however, he supposed I meant\nMunich, and said, with a merry laugh, \"So you are to stay here after\nall?\" I replied, \"No! to tell you the truth, I should like to have\nstayed, if the Elector had favored me with a small sum, so that I might\nthen have offered my compositions to your Excellency devoid of all\ninterested motives. It would have been a pleasure to me to do this.\" At\nthese words he half lifted his skull-cap.\n\nAt ten o'clock I went to court to call on Countess Salern. I dined\nafterwards with the Brancas. Herr Geheimrath von Branca, having been\ninvited by the French Ambassador, was not at home. He is called \"your\nExcellency.\" Countess Salern is a Frenchwoman, and scarcely knows a word\nof German; so I have always been in the habit of talking French to her.\nI do so quite boldly, and she says that I don't speak at all badly,\nand that I have the good habit of speaking slowly, which makes me more\neasily understood. She is a most excellent person, and very well-bred.\nThe daughter plays nicely, but fails in time. I thought this arose from\nwant of ear on her part, but I find I can blame no one but her teacher,\nwho is too indulgent and too easily satisfied. I practised with her\nto-day, and I could pledge myself that if she were to learn from me for\na couple of months, she would play both well and accurately.\n\nAt four o'clock I went to Frau von Tosson's, where I found mamma and\nalso Frau von Hepp. I played there till eight o'clock, and after that\nwe went home; and at half-past nine a small band of music arrived,\nconsisting of five persons--two clarionet-players, two horns, and one\nbassoon. Herr Albert (whose name-day is to-morrow) arranged this music\nin honor of me and himself. They played rather well together, and were\nthe same people whom we hear during dinner at Albert's, but it is well\nknown that they are trained by Fiala. They played some of his pieces,\nand I must say they are very pretty: he has some excellent ideas.\nTo-morrow we are to have a small musical party together, where I am\nto play. (Nota bene, on that miserable piano! oh, dear! oh, dear! oh,\ndear!) I beg you will excuse my horrid writing, but ink, haste, sleep,\nand dreams are all against me. I am now and forever amen, your dutiful\nson,\n\nA. W. MOZART.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 64",
    "body": "Munich, Oct. 11, 1777.\n\nWHY have I not as yet written anything about Misliweczeck? [See No. 43.]\nBecause I was only too glad not to think of him; for when he is spoken\nof I invariably hear how highly he praises me, and what a kind and\ntrue friend he is of mine; but then follow pity and lamentation. He\nwas described to me, and deeply was I distressed. How could I bear that\nMisliweczeck, my intimate friend, should be in the same town, nay, even\nin the same corner of the world with me, and neither see him nor speak\nto him? Impossible! so I resolved to go to visit him. On the previous\nday, I called on the manager of the Duke's Hospital to ask if I might\nsee my friend in the garden, which I thought best, though the doctors\nassured me there was no longer any risk of infection. The manager agreed\nto my proposal, and said I should find him in the garden between eleven\nand twelve o'clock, and, if he was not there when I came, to send for\nhim. Next day I went with Herr von Hamm, secretary in the Crown Office,\n(of whom I shall speak presently,) and mamma to the Duke's Hospital.\nMamma went into the Hospital church, and we into the garden.\nMisliweczeck was not there, so we sent him a message. I saw him coming\nacross, and knew him at once from his manner of walking. I must tell\nyou that he had already sent me his remembrances by Herr Heller, a\nvioloncello-player, and begged me to visit him before I left Munich.\nWhen he came up to me, we shook hands cordially. \"You see,\" said he,\n\"how unfortunate I am.\" These words and his appearance, which papa is\nalready aware of from description, so went to my heart that I could only\nsay, with tears in my eyes, \"I pity you from my heart, my dear friend.\"\nHe saw how deeply I was affected, so rejoined quite cheerfully, \"Now\ntell me what you are doing; when I heard that you were in Munich, I\ncould scarcely believe it; how could Mozart be here and not long ago\nhave come to see me?\" \"I hope you will forgive me, but I had such a\nnumber of visits to make, and I have so many kind friends here.\" \"I feel\nquite sure that you have indeed many kind friends, but a truer friend\nthan myself you cannot have.\" He asked me whether papa had told me\nanything of a letter he had received. I said, \"Yes, he did write to me,\"\n(I was quite confused, and trembled so much in every limb that I could\nscarcely speak,) \"but he gave me no details.\" He then told me that\nSignor Gaetano Santoro, the Neapolitan impresario, was obliged, owing\nto impegni and protezione, to give the composition of the opera for this\nCarnival to a certain Maestro Valentini; but he added, \"Next year he\nhas three at liberty, one of which is to be at my service. But as I\nhave already composed six times for Naples, I don't in the least mind\nundertaking the less promising one, and making over to you the best\nlibretto, viz. the one for the Carnival. God knows whether I shall\nbe able to travel by that time, but if not, I shall send back the\nscrittura. The company for next year is good, being all people whom I\nhave recommended. You must know that I have such influence in Naples\nthat, when I say engage such a one, they do so at once.\" Marquesi is\nthe primo uomo, whom he, and indeed all Munich too, praises very highly;\nMarchiani is a good prima donna; and there is a tenor, whose name I\ncannot recall, but Misliweczeck says he is the best in all Italy. He\nalso said, \"I do beg of you to go to Italy; there one is esteemed and\nhighly prized.\" And in truth he is right. When I come to reflect on the\nsubject, in no country have I received such honors, or been so esteemed,\nas in Italy, and nothing contributes more to a man's fame than to have\nwritten Italian operas, and especially for Naples. He said he would\nwrite a letter for me to Santoro, which I was to copy out when I went\nto see him next day; but finding it impossible to return, he sent me\na sketch of the letter to-day. I was told that when Misliweczeck heard\npeople here speaking of Becke, or other performers on the piano, he\ninvariably said, \"Let no one deceive himself; none can play like Mozart;\nin Italy, where the greatest masters are, they speak of no one but\nMozart; when his name is mentioned, not a word is said of others.\" I can\nnow write the letter to Naples when I please; but, indeed, the sooner\nthe better. I should, however, first like to have the opinion of that\nhighly discreet Hofcapellmeister, Herr von Mozart. I have the most\nardent desire to write another opera. The distance is certainly great,\nbut the period is still a long way off when I am to write this opera,\nand there may be many changes before then. I think I might at all events\nundertake it. If, in the mean time, I get no situation, eh, bien! I\nshall then have a resource in Italy. I am at all events certain to\nreceive 100 ducats in the Carnival; and when I have once written for\nNaples I shall be sought for everywhere. As papa well knows, there is an\nopera buffa in Naples in spring, summer, and autumn, for which I might\nwrite for the sake of practice, not to be quite idle. It is true that\nthere is not much to be got by this, but still there is something,\nand it would be the means of gaining more honor and reputation than by\ngiving a hundred concerts in Germany, and I am far happier when I have\nsomething to compose, which is my chief delight and passion; and if I\nget a situation anywhere, or have hopes of one, the scrittura would be\na great recommendation to me, and excite a sensation, and cause me to be\nmore thought of. This is mere talk, but still I say what is in my heart.\nIf papa gives me any good grounds to show that I am wrong, then I\nwill give it up, though, I own, reluctantly. Even when I hear an opera\ndiscussed, or am in a theatre myself and hear voices, oh! I really am\nbeside myself!\n\nTo-morrow, mamma and I are to meet Misliweczeck in the Hospital garden\nto take leave of him; for he wished me last time to fetch mamma out\nof church, as he said he should like to see the mother of so great a\nvirtuoso. My dear papa, do write to him as often as you have time to do\nso; you cannot confer a greater pleasure on him, for the man is quite\nforsaken. Sometimes he sees no one for a whole week, and he said to me,\n\"I do assure you it does seem so strange to me to see so few people; in\nItaly I had company every day.\" He looks thin, of course, but is still\nfull of fire and life and genius, and the same kind, animated person\nhe always was. People talk much of his oratorio of \"Abraham and Isaac,\"\nwhich he produced here. He has just completed (with the exception of\na few arias) a Cantata, or Serenata, for Lent; and when he was at the\nworst he wrote an opera for Padua. Herr Heller is just come from him.\nWhen I wrote to him yesterday I sent him the Serenata that I wrote in\nSalzburg: for the Archduke Maximilian [\"Il Re Pastore\"].\n\nNow to turn to something else. Yesterday I went with mamma immediately\nafter dinner to take coffee with the two Fraulein von Freysinger. Mamma,\nhowever, took none, but drank two bottles of Tyrolese wine. At three\no'clock she went home again to make preparations for our journey. I,\nhowever, went with the two ladies to Herr von Hamm's, whose three young\nladies each played a concerto, and I one of Aichner's prima vista, and\nthen went on extemporizing. The teacher of these little simpletons,\nthe Demoiselles Hamm, is a certain clerical gentleman of the name of\nSchreier. He is a good organ-player, but no pianist. He kept staring\nat me with an eye-glass. He is a reserved kind of man who does not talk\nmuch; he patted me on the shoulder, sighed, and said, \"Yes--you are--you\nunderstand--yes--it is true--you are an out-and-outer!\" By the by, can\nyou recall the name of Freysingen--the papa of the two pretty girls I\nmentioned? He says he knows you well, and that he studied with you. He\nparticularly remembers Messenbrunn, where papa (this was quite new\nto me) played most incomparably on the organ. He said, \"It was quite\nstartling to see the pace at which both hands and feet went, but quite\ninimitable; a thorough master indeed; my father thought a great deal of\nhim; and how he humbugged the priests about entering the Church! You are\njust what he was then, as like as possible; only he was a degree shorter\nwhen I knew him.\" A propos, a certain Hofrath Effeln sends you his kind\nregards; he is one of the best Hofraths here, and would long ago have\nbeen made chancellor but for one defect--TIPPLING. When we saw him\nfor the first time at Albert's, both mamma and I thought, \"What an\nodd-looking fish!\" Just imagine a very tall man, stout and corpulent,\nand a ridiculous face. When he crosses the room to another table, he\nfolds both hands on his stomach, stoops very low, and then draws himself\nup again, and makes little nods; and when this is over he draws back his\nright foot, and does this to each individual separately. He says that\nhe knows papa intimately. I am now going for a little to the play. Next\ntime I will write more fully, but I can't possibly go on to-day, for my\nfingers do ache uncommonly.\n\nMunich, October 11th, at 1/4 to 12 at night, I write as follows:--I\nhave been at the Drittl comedy, but only went in time for the ballet, or\nrather the pantomime, which I had not before seen. It is called \"Das von\nder fur Girigaricanarimanarischaribari verfertigte Ei.\" It was very good\nand funny. We are going to-morrow to Augsburg on account of Prince Taxis\nnot being at Ratisbon but at Teschingen. He is, in fact, at present at\nhis country-seat, which is, however, only an hour from Teschingen. I\nsend my sister, with this, four preludes; she will see and hear for\nherself the different keys into which they lead. My compliments to all\nmy kind friends, particularly to young Count Arco, to Madlle. Sallerl,\nand to my best of all friends, Herr Bullinger; I do beg that next Sunday\nat the usual eleven-o'clock music he will be so good as to make an\nauthoritative oration in my name, and present my regards to all the\nmembers of the orchestra and exhort them to industry, that I may not one\nday be accused of being a humbug, for I have everywhere extolled their\norchestra, and I intend always to do so.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 65",
    "body": "Augsburg, Oct. 14, 1777.\n\nI HAVE made no mistake in my date, for I write before dinner, and I\nthink that next Friday, the day after to-morrow, we shall be off again.\nPray hear how generous the gentlemen of Augsburg are. In no place was\nI ever so overwhelmed with marks of distinction as here. My first visit\nwas to the Stadtpfleger Longo Tabarro [Burgomaster Langenmantl].\nMy cousin, [Footnote: Leopold Mozart had a brother in Augsburg, a\nbookbinder, whose daughter, \"das Basle\" (the cousin), was two years\nyounger than Mozart.] a good, kind, honest man and worthy citizen, went\nwith me, and had the honor to wait in the hall like a footman till my\ninterview with the high and mighty Stadtpfleger was over. I did not\nfail first of all to present papa's respectful compliments. He deigned\ngraciously to remember you, and said, \"And pray how have things gone\nwith him?\" \"Vastly well, God be praised!\" I instantly rejoined, \"and I\nhope things have also gone well with you?\" He then became more civil,\nand addressed me in the third person, so I called him \"Sir\"; though,\nindeed, I had done so from the first. He gave me no peace till I went\nup with him to see his son-in-law (on the second floor), my cousin\nmeanwhile having the pleasure of waiting in the staircase-hall. I was\nobliged to control myself with all my might, or I must have given some\npolite hint about this. On going upstairs I had the satisfaction of\nplaying for nearly three-quarters of an hour on a good clavichord\nof Stein's, in the presence of the stuck-up young son, and his prim\ncondescending wife, and the simple old lady. I first extemporized, and\nthen played all the music he had, prima, vista, and among others some\nvery pretty pieces of Edlmann's. Nothing could be more polite than they\nall were, and I was equally so, for my rule is to behave to people just\nas they behave to me; I find this to be the best plan. I said that I\nmeant to go to Stein's after dinner, so the young man offered to take me\nthere himself. I thanked him for his kindness, and promised to return\nat two o'clock. I did so, and we went together in company with his\nbrother-in-law, who looks a genuine student. Although I had begged that\nmy name should not be mentioned, Herr von Langenmantl was so incautious\nas to say, with a simper, to Herr Stein, \"I have the honor to present to\nyou a virtuoso on the piano.\" I instantly protested against this, saying\nthat I was only an indifferent pupil of Herr Sigl in Munich, who had\ncharged me with a thousand compliments to him. Stein shook his head\ndubiously, and at length said, \"Surely I have the honor of seeing M.\nMozart?\" \"Oh, no,\" said I; \"my name is Trazom, and I have a letter for\nyou.\" He took the letter and was about to break the seal instantly, but\nI gave him no time for that, saying, \"What is the use of reading the\nletter just now? Pray open the door of your saloon at once, for I am\nso very anxious to see your pianofortes.\" \"With all my heart,\" said he,\n\"just as you please; but for all that I believe I am not mistaken.\" He\nopened the door, and I ran straight up to one of the three pianos that\nstood in the room. I began to play, and he scarcely gave himself time\nto glance at the letter, so anxious was he to ascertain the truth; so\nhe only read the signature. \"Oh!\" cried he, embracing me, and crossing\nhimself and making all sorts of grimaces from intense delight. I\nwill write to you another day about his pianos. He then took me to a\ncoffee-house, but when we went in I really thought I must bolt, there\nwas such a stench of tobacco-smoke, but for all that I was obliged to\nbear it for a good hour. I submitted to it all with a good grace, though\nI could have fancied that I was in Turkey. He made a great fuss to me\nabout a certain Graf, a composer (of flute concertos only); and\nsaid, \"He is something quite extraordinary,\" and every other possible\nexaggeration. I became first hot and then cold from nervousness. This\nGraf is a brother of the two who are in Harz and Zurich. He would\nnot give up his intention, but took me straight to him--a dignified\ngentleman indeed; he wore a dressing-gown that I would not be ashamed to\nwear in the street. All his words are on stilts, and he has a habit of\nopening his mouth before knowing what he is going to say; so he often\nshuts it again without having said anything. After a great deal of\nceremony he produced a concerto for two flutes; I was to play first\nviolin. The concerto is confused, not natural, too abrupt in its\nmodulations, and devoid of all genius. When it was over I praised it\nhighly, for, indeed, he deserves this. The poor man must have had labor\nand study enough to write it. At last they brought a clavichord of\nStein's out of the next room, a very good one, but inch-thick with dust.\nHerr Graf, who is director here, stood there looking like a man who had\nhitherto believed his own modulations to be something very clever, but\nall at once discovers that others may be still more so, and without\ngrating on the ear. In a word, they all seemed lost in astonishment.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 72",
    "body": "Mannheim, Nov. 5, 1777.\n\nMy dear Coz--Buzz,--\n\nI have safely received your precious epistle--thistle, and from it\nI perceive--achieve, that my aunt--gaunt, and you--shoe, are quite\nwell--bell. I have to-day a letter--setter, from my papa--ah-ha, safe in\nmy hands--sands. I hope you also got--trot, my Mannheim letter--setter.\nNow for a little sense--pence. The prelate's seizure--leisure, grieves\nme much--touch, but he will, I hope, get well--sell. You write--blight,\nyou will keep--cheap, your promise to write to me--he-he, to Augsburg\nsoon--spoon. Well, I shall be very glad--mad. You further write, indeed\nyou declare, you pretend, you hint, you vow, you explain, you distinctly\nsay, you long, you wish, you desire, you choose, command, and point\nout, you let me know and inform me that I must send you my portrait\nsoon--moon. Eh, bien! you shall have it before long--song. Now I wish\nyou good night--tight.\n\nThe 5th.--Yesterday I conversed with the illustrious Electress; and\nto-morrow, the 6th, I am to play in the gala concert, and afterwards, by\ndesire of the Princess, in their private apartments. Now for something\nrational! I beg of you--why not?--I beg of you, my very dear cousin--why\nnot?--when you write to Madame Tavernier in Munich, to convey a message\nfrom me to the two Demoiselles Freysinger--why not? odd enough! but why\nnot?--and I humbly ask pardon of Madlle. Josepha--I mean the youngest,\nand pray why not? why should I not ask her pardon? strange! but I don't\nknow why I should not, so I do ask her pardon very humbly--for not\nhaving yet sent the sonata I promised her, but I mean to do so as\nsoon as possible. Why not? I don't know why not. I can now write no\nmore--which makes my heart sore. To all my kind friends much love--dove.\nAddio! Your old young, till death--breath,\n\nWOLFGANG AMADE ROSENCRANZ.\n\nMiennham, eht ht5 rebotoc, 7771.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 73",
    "body": "Mannheim, Nov. 8, 1777.\n\nThis forenoon, at Herr Cannabich's, I wrote the Rondo of the sonata for\nhis daughter; so they would not let me leave them all day. The Elector\nand the Electress, and the whole court, are very much pleased with me.\nBoth times I played at the concert, the Elector and she stood close\nbeside me at the piano. After the music was at an end, Cannabich managed\nthat I should be noticed by the court. I kissed the Elector's hand, who\nsaid, \"I think it is now fifteen years since you were here?\" \"Yes,\nyour Highness, it is fifteen years since I had that honor.\" \"You play\ninimitably.\" The Princess, when I kissed her hand, said, \"Monsieur, je\nvous assure, on ne peut pas jouer mieux.\"\n\nYesterday I went with Cannabich to pay the visit mamma already wrote to\nyou about [to Duke Carl Theodor's children], and there I conversed with\nthe Elector as if he had been some kind friend. He is a most gracious\nand good Prince. He said to me, \"I hear you wrote an opera at Munich\"\n[\"La finta Giardiniera\"]? \"Yes, your Highness, and, with your gracious\npermission, my most anxious wish is to write an opera here; I entreat\nyou will not quite forget me. I could also write a German one, God be\npraised!\" said I, smiling. \"That may easily be arranged.\" He has one\nson and three daughters, the eldest of whom and the young Count play the\npiano. The Elector questioned me confidentially about his children.\nI spoke quite honestly, but without detracting from their master.\nCannabich was entirely of my opinion. The Elector, on going away, took\nleave of me with much courtesy.\n\nAfter dinner to-day I went, at two o'clock, with Cannabich to\nWendling's, the flute-player, where they were all complaisance. The\ndaughter, who was formerly the Elector's favorite, plays the piano very\nprettily; afterwards I played. I cannot describe to you the happy mood I\nwas in. I played extempore, and then three duets with the violin, which\nI had never in my life seen, nor do I now know the name of the author.\nThey were all so delighted that I--was desired to embrace the ladies. No\nhard task with the daughter, for she is very pretty.\n\nWe then went again to the Elector's children; I played three times, and\nfrom my heart too,--the Elector himself each time asking me to play. He\nseated himself each time close to me and never stirred. I also asked a\ncertain Professor there to give me a theme for a fugue, and worked it\nout.\n\nNow for my congratulations!\n\nMy very dearest papa,--I cannot write poetically, for I am no poet. I\ncannot make fine artistic phrases that cast light and shadow, for I am\nno painter; I can neither by signs nor by pantomime express my thoughts\nand feelings, for I am no dancer; but I can by tones, for I am\na musician. So to-morrow, at Cannabich's, I intend to play my\ncongratulations both for your name-day and birthday. Mon tres-cher pere,\nI can only on this day wish for you, what from my whole heart I wish for\nyou every day and every night--health, long life, and a cheerful spirit.\nI would fain hope, too, that you have now less annoyance than when I was\nin Salzburg; for I must admit that I was the chief cause of this. They\ntreated me badly, which I did not deserve, and you naturally took my\npart, only too lovingly. I can tell you this was indeed one of the\nprincipal and most urgent reasons for my leaving Salzburg in such haste.\nI hope, therefore, that my wish is fulfilled. I must now close by a\nmusical congratulation. I wish that you may live as many years as must\nelapse before no more new music can be composed. Farewell! I earnestly\nbeg you to go on loving me a little, and, in the mean time, to excuse\nthese very poor congratulations till I open new shelves in my small and\nconfined knowledge-box, where I can stow away the good sense which I\nhave every intention to acquire.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 74",
    "body": "Mannheim, Nov. 13, 1777.\n\nWe received your last two letters, and now I must answer them in\ndetail. Your letter desiring me to inquire about Becke's parents [in\nWallerstein, No. 68] I did not get till I had gone to Mannheim, so too\nlate to comply with your wish; but it never would have occurred to me\nto do so, for, in truth, I care very little about him. Would you like\nto know how I was received by him? Well and civilly; that is, he asked\nwhere I was going. I said, most probably to Paris. He then gave me a\nvast deal of advice, saying he had recently been there, and adding, \"You\nwill make a great deal by giving lessons, for the piano is highly prized\nin Paris.\" He also arranged that I should dine at the officers'\ntable, and promised to put me in the way of speaking to the Prince.\nHe regretted very much having at that moment a sore throat, (which\nwas indeed quite true,) so that he could not go out with me himself to\nprocure me some amusement. He was also sorry that he could have no music\nin honor of me, because most of the musical people had gone that very\nday on some pedestrian excursion to--Heaven knows where! At his\nrequest I tried his piano, which is very good. He often said Bravo! I\nextemporized, and also played the sonatas in B and D. In short, he was\nvery polite, and I was also polite, but grave. We conversed on a variety\nof topics--among others, about Vienna, and more particularly that the\nEmperor [Joseph II.] was no great lover of music. He said, \"It is true\nhe has some knowledge of composition, but of nothing else. I can still\nrecall (and he rubbed his forehead) that when I was to play before him\nI had no idea what to play; so I began with some fugues and trifles of\nthat kind, which in my own mind I only laughed at.\" I could scarcely\nresist saying, \"I can quite fancy your laughing, but scarcely so loud\nas I must have done had I heard you!\" He further said (what is the fact)\nthat the music in the Emperor's private apartments is enough to frighten\nthe crows. I replied, that whenever I heard such music, if I did not\nquickly leave the room it gave me a headache. \"Oh! no; it has no such\neffect on me; bad music does not affect my nerves, but fine music never\nfails to give me a headache.\" I thought to myself again, such a shallow\nhead as yours is sure to suffer when listening to what is beyond its\ncomprehension.\n\nNow for some of our news here. I was desired to go yesterday with\nCannabich to the Intendant, Count Savioli, to receive my present. It was\njust what I had anticipated--a handsome gold watch. Ten Carolins would\nhave pleased me better just now, though the watch and chain, with its\nappendages, are valued at twenty Carolins. Money is what is most needed\non a journey; and, by your leave, I have now five watches. Indeed, I\nhave serious thoughts of having a second watch-pocket made, and, when\nI visit a grandee, to wear two watches, (which is indeed the fashion\nhere,) that no one may ever again think of giving me another. I see from\nyour letter that you have not yet read Vogler's book. [FOOTNOTE: Ton\nWissenschaft und Ton Kunst.] I have just finished it, having borrowed it\nfrom Cannabich. His history is very short. He came here in a miserable\ncondition, performed on the piano, and composed a ballet. This excited\nthe Elector's compassion, who sent him to Italy. When the Elector was in\nBologna, he questioned Father Valoti about Vogler. \"Oh! your Highness,\nhe is a great man,\" &c., &c. He then asked Father Martini the same\nquestion. \"Your Highness, he has talent; and by degrees, when he is\nolder and more solid, he will no doubt improve, though he must first\nchange considerably.\" When Vogler came back he entered the Church, was\nimmediately appointed Court Chaplain, and composed a Miserere which\nall the world declares to be detestable, being full of false harmony.\nHearing; that it was not much commended, he went to the Elector and\ncomplained that the orchestra played badly on purpose to vex and annoy\nhim; in short, he knew so well how to make his game (entering into so\nmany petty intrigues with women) that he became Vice-Capellmeister. He\nis a fool, who fancies that no one can be better or more perfect than\nhimself. The whole orchestra, from the first to the last, detest him. He\nhas been the cause of much annoyance to Holzbauer. His book is more\nfit to teach arithmetic than composition. He says that he can make a\ncomposer in three weeks, and a singer in six months; but we have not yet\nseen any proof of this. He despises the greatest masters. To myself he\nspoke with contempt of Bach [Johann Christian, J. Sebastian's youngest\nson, called the London Bach], who wrote two operas here, the first of\nwhich pleased more than the second, Lucio Silla. As I had composed the\nsame opera in Milan, I was anxious to see it, and hearing from Holzbauer\nthat Vogler had it, I asked him to lend it to me. \"With all my heart,\"\nsaid he; \"I will send it to you to-morrow without fail, but you won't\nfind much talent in it.\" Some days after, when he saw me, he said with\na sneer, \"Well, did you discover anything very fine--did you learn\nanything from it? One air is rather good. What are the words?\" asked he\nof some person standing near. \"What air do you mean?\" \"Why, that odious\nair of Bach's, that vile--oh! yes, pupille amate. He must have written\nit after a carouse of punch.\" I really thought I must have laid hold\nof his pigtail; I affected, however, not to hear him, said nothing, and\nwent away. He has now served out his time with the Elector.\n\nThe sonata for Madlle. Rosa Cannabich is finished. Last Sunday I played\nthe organ in the chapel for my amusement. I came in while the Kyrie was\ngoing on, played the last part, and when the priest intoned the Gloria I\nmade a cadence, so different, however, from what is usually heard here,\nthat every one looked round in surprise, and above all Holzbauer.\nHe said to me, \"If I had known you were coming, I would have put out\nanother mass for you.\" \"Oh!\" said I, \"to puzzle me, I suppose?\" Old\nToeschi and Wendling stood all the time close beside me. I gave them\nenough to laugh at. Every now and then came a pizzicato, when I rattled\nthe keys well; I was in my best humor. Instead of the Benedictus here,\nthere is always a voluntary, so I took the ideas of the Sanctus and\nworked them out in a fugue. There they all stood making faces. At the\nclose, after Ita missa est, I played a fugue. Their pedal is different\nfrom ours, which at first rather puzzled me, but I soon got used to\nit. I must now conclude. Pray write to us still at Mannheim. I know all\nabout Misliweczeck's sonatas [see No. 64], and played them lately at\nMunich; they are very easy and agreeable to listen to. My advice is that\nmy sister, to whom I humbly commend myself, should play them with much\nexpression, taste, and fire, and learn them by heart. For these are\nsonatas which cannot fail to please every one, are not difficult to\ncommit to memory, and produce a good effect when played with precision.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 76",
    "body": "Mannheim, Nov. 14-16, 1777.\n\nI, Johannes, Chrysostomus, Amadeus, Wolfgangus, Sigismundus, Mozart,\nplead guilty to having both yesterday and the day before (and very often\nbesides) stayed away from home till twelve o'clock at night, from ten\no'clock till the aforesaid hour, I being in the presence and company of\nM. Cannabich, his wife and daughter, the Herrn Schatzmeister, Ramm, and\nLang, making doggerel rhymes with the utmost facility, in thought and\nword, but not in deed. I should not, however, have conducted myself\nin so reckless a manner if our ringleader, namely, the so-called Lisel\n(Elisabeth Cannabich), had not inveigled and instigated me to mischief,\nand I am bound to admit that I took great pleasure in it myself. I\nconfess all these my sins and shortcomings from the depths of my heart;\nand in the hope of often having similar ones to confess, I firmly\nresolve to amend my present sinful life. I therefore beg for a\ndispensation if it can be granted; but, if not, it is a matter of\nindifference to me, for the game will go on all the same. Lusus enim\nsuum habet ambitum, says the pious singer Meissner, (chap. 9, p. 24,)\nand also the pious Ascenditor, patron of singed coffee, musty lemonade,\nmilk of almonds with no almonds in it, and, above all, strawberry ice\nfull of lumps of ice, being himself a great connoisseur and artist in\nthese delicacies.\n\nThe sonata I composed for Madlle. Cannabich I intend to write out as\nsoon as possible on small paper, and to send it to my sister. I began\nto teach it to Madlle. Rose three days ago, and she has learned the\nallegro. The andante will give us most trouble, for it is full of\nexpression, and must be played with accuracy and taste, and the fortes\nand pianos given just as they are marked. She is very clever, and learns\nwith facility. Her right hand is very good, but the left is unhappily\nquite ruined. I must say that I do really feel very sorry for her, when\nI see her laboring away till she is actually panting for breath; and\nthis not from natural awkwardness on her part, but because, being so\naccustomed to this method, she cannot play in any other way, never\nhaving been shown the right one. I said, both to her mother and herself,\nthat if I were her regular master I would lock up all her music, cover\nthe keys of the piano with a handkerchief, and make her exercise her\nright and left hand, at first quite slowly in nothing but passages and\nshakes, &c., until her hands were thoroughly trained; and after that\nI should feel confident of making her a genuine pianiste. They both\nacknowledged that I was right. It is a sad pity; for she has so much\ngenius, reads very tolerably, has great natural aptitude, and plays with\ngreat feeling.\n\nNow about the opera briefly. Holzbauer's music [for the first great\nGerman operetta, \"Gunther von Schwarzburg\"] is very beautiful, but the\npoetry is not worthy of such music. What surprises me most is, that so\nold a man as Holzbauer should still have so much spirit, for the\nopera is incredibly full of fire. The prima donna was Madame Elisabeth\nWendling, not the wife of the flute-player, but of the violinist. She\nis in very delicate health; and, besides, this opera was not written for\nher, but for a certain Madame Danzi, who is now in England; so it does\nnot suit her voice, and is too high for her. Herr Raaff, in four arias\nof somewhere about 450 bars, sang in a manner which gave rise to the\nremark that his want of voice was the principal cause of his singing\nso badly. When he begins an air, unless at the same moment it recurs to\nyour mind that this is Raaff, the old but once so renowned tenor, I defy\nany one not to burst out laughing. It is a fact, that in my own case I\nthought, if I did not know that this is the celebrated Raaff, I\nshould be bent double from laughing, but as it is--I only take out my\nhandkerchief to hide a smile. They tell me here that he never was a good\nactor; that people went to hear, but not to see him. He has by no means\na pleasing exterior. In this opera he was to die, singing in a long,\nlong, slow air; and he died laughing! and towards the end of the aria\nhis voice failed him so entirely that it was impossible to stand it!\nI was in the orchestra next Wendling the flute-player, and as he had\npreviously criticized the song, saying it was unnatural to sing so long\nbefore dying, adding, \"I do think he will never die!\" I said in return,\n\"Have a little patience; it will soon be all over with him, for I can\nhear he is at the last gasp!\" \"And I too,\" said he, laughing. The second\nsinger, Madlle. Strasserin, sang very well, and is an admirable actress.\n\nThere is a national stage here, which is permanent like that at Munich;\nGerman operettas are sometimes given, but the singers in them are\nwretched. Yesterday I dined with the Baron and Baroness von Hagen,\nOberstjagermeister here. Three days ago I called on Herr Schmalz, a\nbanker, to whom Herr Herzog, or rather Nocker and Schidl, had given me\na letter. I expected to have found a very civil good sort of man. When\nI gave him the letter, he read it through, made me a slight bow, and said\nnothing. At last, after many apologies for not having sooner waited on\nhim, I told him that I had played before the Elector. \"Really!\" Altum\nsilentium. I said nothing, he said nothing. At last I began again: \"I\nwill no longer intrude on you. I have the honor to\"--Here he interrupted\nme. \"If I can be of any service to you, I beg\"--\"Before I leave this I\nmust take the liberty to ask you\"--\"Not for money?\" \"Yes, if you will\nbe so good as to\"--\"Oh! that I can't do; there is nothing in the letter\nabout money. I cannot give you any money, but anything else\"--\"There\nis nothing else in which you can serve me--nothing whatever. I have the\nhonor to take my leave.\" I wrote the whole history yesterday to Herr\nHerzog in Augsburg. We must now wait here for the answer, so you may\nstill write to us at Mannheim. I kiss your hand, and am your young\nbrother and father, as in your last letter you say \"I am the old man and\nson.\" To-day is the 16th when I finish this, or else you will not know\nwhen it was sent off. \"Is the letter ready?\" \"Yes, mamma, here it is!\"",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 78",
    "body": "Mannheim, Nov. 22, 1777.\n\nTHE first piece of information that I have to give you is, that my\ntruthful letter to Herr Herzog in Augsburg, puncto Schmalzii, has had a\ncapital effect. He wrote me a very polite letter in return, expressing\nhis annoyance that I should have been received so uncourteously by detto\nSchmalz [melted butter]; so he herewith sent me a sealed letter to detto\nHerr Milk, with a bill of exchange for 150 florins on detto Herr Cheese.\nYou must know that, though I only saw Herr Herzog once, I could not\nresist asking him to send me a draft on Herr Schmalz, or to Herrn\nButter, Milk, and Cheese, or whom he would--a ca! This joke has\nsucceeded; it is no good making a poor mouth!\n\nWe received this forenoon (the 21st) your letter of the 17th. I was not\nat home, but at Cannabich's, where Wendling was rehearsing a concerto\nfor which I have written the orchestral accompaniments. To-day at six\no'clock the gala concert took place. I had the pleasure of hearing Herr\nFranzl (who married a sister of Madame Cannabich's) play a concerto on\nthe violin; he pleased me very much. You know that I am no lover of mere\ndifficulties. He plays difficult music, but it does not appear to be so;\nindeed, it seems as if one could easily do the same, and this is\nreal talent. He has a very fine round tone, not a note wanting, and\neverything distinct and well accentuated. He has also a beautiful\nstaccato in bowing, both up and down, and I never heard such a double\nshake as his. In short, though in my opinion no WIZARD, he is a very\nsolid violin-player.--I do wish I could conquer my confounded habit of\nwriting crooked.\n\nI am sorry I was not at Salzburg when that unhappy occurrence took place\nabout Madame Adlgasserin, so that I might have comforted her; and that\nI would have done--particularly being so handsome a woman. [Footnote:\nAdlgasser was the organist of the cathedral. His wife was thought very\nstupid. See the letter of August 26, 1781.] I know already all that\nyou write to me about Mannheim, but I never wish to say anything\nprematurely; all in good time. Perhaps in my next letter I may tell you\nof something VERY GOOD in your eyes, but only GOOD in mine; or something\nyou will think VERY BAD, but I TOLERABLE; possibly, too, something only\nTOLERABLE for you, but VERY GOOD, PRECIOUS, and DELIGHTFUL for me! This\nsounds rather oracular, does it not? It is ambiguous, but still may be\ndivined.\n\nMy regards to Herr Bullinger; every time that I get a letter from you,\nusually containing a few lines from him, I feel ashamed, as it reminds\nme that I have never once written to my best and truest friend, from\nwhom I have received so much kindness and civility. But I cannot try to\nexcuse myself. I only beg of him to do so for me as far as possible,\nand to believe that, as soon as I have a little leisure, I will write to\nhim--as yet I have had none; for from the moment I know that it is even\npossible or probable that I may leave a place, I have no longer a single\nhour I can call my own, and though I have now a glimmer of hope, still\nI shall not be at rest till I know how things are. One of the oracle's\nsayings must come to pass. I think it will be the middle one or the\nlast--I care not which, for at all events it will be something settled.\n\nI no doubt wrote to you that Holzbauer's grand opera is in German. If\nnot, I write it now. The title is \"Gunther von Schwarzburg,\" but not our\nworshipful Herr Gunther, barber and councillor at Salzburg! \"Rosamunde\"\nis to be given during the ensuing Carnival, the libretto being a recent\ncomposition of Wieland's, and the music also a new composition of Herr\nSchweitzer. Both are to come here. I have already seen some parts of the\nopera and tried it over on the piano, but I say nothing about it as yet.\nThe target you have had painted for me, to be given in my name to the\nshooting-match, is first-rate, and the verses inimitable. [Footnote: For\ncross-bow practice, attended weekly by a circle of his Salzburg friends.\nOn the target was represented \"the melancholy farewell of two persons\ndissolved in tears, Wolfgang and the 'Basle.'\"] I have now no more to\nwrite, except that I wish you all a good night's rest, and that you may\nall sleep soundly till this letter comes to wake you. Adieu! I embrace\nfrom my heart--cart, my dear sister--blister, and am your dutiful and\nattached son,\n\nWOLFGANG AMADE MOZART,\n\nKnight of the Golden Spur, Member of the great Verona Academy,\nBologna--oui, mon ami!",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 80",
    "body": "Mannheim, Nov. 29, 1777.\n\nI RECEIVED this morning your letter of the 24th, and perceive that you\ncannot reconcile yourself to the chances of good or bad fortune, if,\nindeed, the latter is to befall us. Hitherto, we four have neither been\nvery lucky nor very unlucky, for which I thank God. You make us many\nreproaches which we do not deserve. We spend nothing but what is\nabsolutely necessary, and as to what is required on a journey, you know\nthat as well or better than we do. No one BUT MYSELF has been the cause\nof our remaining so long in Munich; and had I been alone I should have\nstayed there altogether. Why were we fourteen days in Augsburg? Surely\nyou cannot have got my letters from there? I wished to give a concert.\nThey played me false, so I thus lost eight days. I was absolument\ndetermined to go away, but was not allowed, so strong was the wish that\nI should give a concert. I wished to be urged to do so, and I was urged.\nI gave the concert; this accounts for the fourteen days. Why did we go\ndirect to Mannheim? This I answered in my last letter. Why are we still\nhere? How can you suppose that I would stay here without good cause? But\nmy father, at all events, should--Well! you shall hear my reasons and\nthe whole course of the affair; but I had quite resolved not to write to\nyou on the subject until I could say something decided, (which even yet\nI cannot do,) on purpose to avoid causing you care and anxiety, which I\nalways strive to do, for I knew that uncertain intelligence would only\nfret you. But when you ascribe this to my negligence, thoughtlessness,\nand indolence, I can only regret your having such an opinion of me,\nand from my heart grieve that you so little know your son. I am not\ncareless, I am only prepared for the worst; so I can wait and bear\neverything patiently, so long as my honor and my good name of Mozart\nremain uninjured. But if it must be so, so let it be. I only beg that\nyou will neither rejoice nor lament prematurely; for whatever may\nhappen, all will be well if we only have health; for happiness\nexists--merely in the imagination.\n\nLast Thursday week I went in the forenoon to wait on Count Savioli, and\nasked him if it were possible to induce the Elector to keep me here this\nwinter, as I was anxious to give lessons to his children. His answer\nwas, \"I will suggest it to the Elector, and if it depends on me, the\nthing will certainly be done.\" In the afternoon I went to Cannabich's,\nand as I had gone to Savioli by his advice, he immediately asked me if I\nhad been there. I told him everything, on which he said, \"I should like\nyou very much to spend the winter with us, but still more to see you in\nsome permanent situation.\" I replied, \"I could wish nothing better than\nto be settled near you, but I don't see how it is possible. You have\nalready two Capellmeisters, so I don't know what I could have, for I\nwould not be subordinate to Vogler.\" \"That you would never be,\" said\nhe. \"Here not one of the orchestra is under the Capellmeister, nor\neven under the Intendant. The Elector might appoint you Chamber Court\ncomposer; only wait a little, and I will speak to Count Savioli on the\nsubject.\" On the Thursday after there was a grand concert. When the\nCount saw me, he apologized for not having yet spoken to the Elector,\nthese being still gala days; but as soon as they were over (next Monday)\nhe would certainly speak to his Royal Highness. I let three days pass,\nand, still hearing nothing whatever, I went to him to make inquiries. He\nsaid, \"My good M. Mozart, (this was yesterday, Friday,) today there was\na chasse, so it was impossible for me to ask the Elector, but to-morrow\nat this hour I will certainly give you an answer.\" I begged him not\nto forget it. To tell you the truth, when I left him I felt rather\nindignant, so I resolved to take with me the easiest of my six\nvariations of the Fischer minuet, (which I wrote here for this express\npurpose,) to present to the young Count, in order to have an opportunity\nto speak to the Elector myself. When I went there, you cannot conceive\nthe delight of the governess, by whom I was most politely received.\nWhen I produced the variations, and said that they were intended for\nthe young Count, she said, \"Oh! that is charming, but I hope you have\nsomething for the Countess also.\" \"Nothing as yet,\" said I, \"but if I\nstay here long enough to have time to write something I will do so.\" \"A\npropos,\" said she, \"I am so glad that you stay the winter here.\" \"I? I\nhave not heard a word of it.\" \"That does surprise me; how very odd!\nfor the Elector told me so himself lately; he said, 'By the by, Mozart\nremains here all winter.'\" \"Well, when he said so, he was the only man\nwho could say so, for without the Elector I of course cannot remain\nhere;\" and then I told her the whole story. We agreed that I should come\nthe next day (that is, to-day) at four o'clock, and bring some piece of\nmusic for the Countess. She was to speak to the Elector before I came;\nand I should be certain to meet him. I went today, but he had not been\nthere at all; but I shall go again to-morrow. I have written a Rondo for\nthe Countess. Have I not then sufficient cause to stay here and await\nthe result? As this important step is finally taken, ought I at this\nmoment to set off? I have now an opportunity of speaking to the Elector\nmyself. I shall most probably spend the winter here, for I am a favorite\nwith his Royal Highness, who thinks highly of me, and knows what I can\ndo. I hope to be able to give you good news in my next letter. I entreat\nyou once more neither to rejoice nor to be uneasy too soon, and not to\nconfide the affair to any one except Herr Bullinger and my sister. I\nsend my sister the allegro and the andante of the sonata I wrote for\nMadlle. Cannabich. The Rondo will follow shortly; the packet would have\nbeen too heavy had I sent it with the others. You must be satisfied with\nthe original, for you can more easily get it copied for six kreutzers a\nsheet than I for twenty-four. Is not that dear? Adieu! Possibly you\nhave heard some stray bits of this sonata; for at Cannabich's it is\nsung three times a day at least, played on the piano and violin, or\nwhistled--only sotto voce, to be sure.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 86",
    "body": "Mannheim, Dec. 20, 1777.\n\nI WISH you, dearest papa, a very happy new-year, and that your health,\nso precious in my eyes, may daily improve, for the benefit and happiness\nof your wife and children, the satisfaction of your true friends, and\nfor the annoyance and vexation of your enemies. I hope also that in the\ncoming year you will love me with the same fatherly tenderness you have\nhitherto shown me. I on my part will strive, and honestly strive, to\ndeserve still more the love of such an admirable father. I was cordially\ndelighted with your last letter of the 15th of December, for, thank God!\nI could gather from it that you are very well indeed. We, too, are in\nperfect health, God be praised! Mine is not likely to fail if constant\nwork can preserve it. I am writing this at eleven at night, because\nI have no other leisure time. We cannot very well rise before eight\no'clock, for in our rooms (on the ground-floor) it is not light till\nhalf-past eight. I then dress quickly; at ten o'clock I sit down to\ncompose till twelve or half-past twelve, when I go to Wendling's, where\nI generally write till half-past one; we then dine. At three o'clock I\ngo to the Mainzer Hof (an hotel) to a Dutch officer, to give him lessons\nin galanterie playing and thorough bass, for which, if I mistake not,\nhe gives me four ducats for twelve lessons. At four o'clock I go home to\nteach the daughter of the house. We never begin till half past four,\nas we wait for lights. At six o'clock I go to Cannabich's to instruct\nMadlle. Rose. I stay to supper there, when we converse and sometimes\nplay; I then invariably take a book out of my pocket and read, as I used\nto do at Salzburg. I have already written to you the pleasure your last\nletter caused me, which is quite true; only one thing rather vexed me,\nthe inquiry whether I had not perchance forgotten to go to confession.\nI shall not say anything further on this. Only allow me to make you one\nrequest, which is, not to think so badly of me. I like to be merry,\nbut rest assured that I can be as serious as any one. Since I quitted\nSalzburg (and even in Salzburg) I have met with people who spoke and\nacted in a way that I should have felt ashamed to do, though they\nwere ten, twenty, and thirty years older than myself. I implore of you\ntherefore once more, and most earnestly, to have a better opinion of me.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 87",
    "body": "Mannheim, Dec. 27, 1777.\n\nA PRETTY sort of paper this! I only wish I could make it better; but\nit is now too late to send for any other. You know, from our previous\nletters, that mamma and I have a capital lodging. It never was my\nintention that she should live apart from me; in fact, when the\nHofkammerrath Serrarius so kindly offered me his house, I only expressed\nmy thanks, which is by no means saying yes. The next day I went to see\nhim with Herr Wendling and M. de Jean (our worthy Dutchman), and only\nwaited till he should himself begin the subject. At length he renewed\nhis offer, and I thanked him in these words: \"I feel that it is a true\nproof of friendship on your part to do me the honor to invite me to live\nin your house; but I regret that unfortunately I cannot accept your most\nkind proposal. I am sure you will not take it amiss when I say that I am\nunwilling to allow my mother to leave me without sufficient cause; and\nI certainly know no reason why mamma should live in one part of the town\nand I in another. When I go to Paris, her not going with me would be a\nconsiderable pecuniary advantage to me, but here for a couple of months\na few gulden more or less do not signify.\"\n\nBy this speech my wish was entirely fulfilled,--that is, that our board\nand lodging do not at all events make us poorer. I must go up-stairs\nto supper, for we have now chatted till half-past ten o'clock. I lately\nwent with my scholar, the Dutch officer, M. de la Pottrie, into the\nReformed church, where I played for an hour and a half on the organ. It\ncame right from my heart too. We--that is, the Cannabichs, Wendlings,\nSerrariuses, and Mozarts--are going to the Lutheran Church, where I\nshall amuse myself gloriously on the organ. I tried its tone at the\nsame rehearsal that I wrote to you about, but played very little, only a\nprelude and a fugue.\n\nI have made acquaintance with Herr Wieland. He does not, however, know\nme as I know him, for he has heard nothing of me as yet. I had not\nat all imagined him to be what I find him. He speaks in rather a\nconstrained way, and has a childish voice, his eyes very watery, and\na certain pedantic uncouthness, and yet at times provokingly\ncondescending. I am not, however, surprised that he should choose to\nbehave in this way at Mannheim, though no doubt very differently at\nWeimar and elsewhere, for here he is stared at as if he had fallen from\nthe skies. People seem to be so ceremonious in his presence, no one\nspeaks, all are as still as possible, striving to catch every word he\nutters. It is unlucky that they are kept so long in expectation, for he\nhas some impediment in his speech which causes him to speak very slowly,\nand he cannot say six words without pausing. Otherwise he is, as we all\nknow, a man of excellent parts. His face is downright ugly and seamed\nwith the small-pox, and he has a long nose. His height is rather beyond\nthat of papa.\n\nYou need have no misgivings as to the Dutchman's 200 florins. I must now\nconclude, as I should like to compose for a little time. One thing more:\nI suppose I had better not write to Prince Zeill at present. The reason\nyou no doubt already know, (Munich being nearer to Salzburg than to\nMannheim,) that the Elector is at the point of death from small-pox.\nThis is certain, so there will be a struggle there. Farewell! As for\nmamma's journey home, I think it could be managed best during Lent, by\nher joining some merchants. This is only my own idea; but what I do feel\nquite sure of is, that whatever you think right will be best, for you\nare not only the Herr Hofcapellmeister, but the most rational of all\nrational beings. If you know such a person as papa, tell him I kiss his\nhands 1000 times, and embrace my sister from my heart, and in spite of\nall this scribbling I am your dutiful son and affectionate brother.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 89",
    "body": "Mannheim, Jan 10, 1778\n\nYES, indeed! I also wish that from my heart. [Footnote: In the mother's\nletter, she had written, \"May God grant us the blessing of peace'\" for\nthere was much talk about the invasion of Bavaria by the Prussians and\nAustrians, on account of the succession.] You have already learned my\ntrue desire from my last letter. It is really high time that we should\nthink of mamma's journey home, for though we have had various rehearsals\nof the opera, still its being performed is by no means certain, and if\nit is not given, we shall probably leave this on the 15th of February.\nWhen that time arrives, (after receiving your advice on the subject,)\nI mean to follow the opinions and habits of my fellow-travellers, and,\nlike them, order a suit of black clothes, reserving the laced suit for\nGermany, as it is no longer the fashion in Paris. In the first place,\nit is an economy, (which is my chief object in my Paris journey,) and,\nsecondly, it wears well and suits both country and town. You can go\nanywhere with a black coat. To-day the tailor brought Herr Wendling his\nsuit. The clothes I think of taking with me are my puce-brown spagnolet\ncoat, and the two waistcoats.\n\nNow for something else. Herr Wieland, after meeting me twice, seems\nquite enchanted with me. The last time, after every sort of eulogium, he\nsaid, \"It is really fortunate for me having met you here,\" and pressed\nmy hand. To-day \"Rosamunde\" has been rehearsed in the theatre; it is\nwell enough, but nothing more, for if it were positively bad it could\nnot be performed, I suppose,--just as some people cannot sleep without\nlying in a bed! But there is no rule without an exception, and I have\nseen an instance of this; so good night! Now for something more to the\npurpose. I know for certain that the Emperor intends to establish\na German opera in Vienna, and is eagerly looking out for a young\nCapellmeister who understands the German language, and has genius, and\nis capable of bringing something new into the world. Benda at Gotha has\napplied, but Schweitzer is determined to succeed. I think it would be\njust the thing for me, but well paid of course. If the Emperor gives\nme 1000 gulden, I will write a German opera for him, and if he does not\nchoose to give me a permanent engagement, it is all the same to me. Pray\nwrite to every kind friend you can think of in Vienna, that I am capable\nof doing credit to the Emperor. If he will do nothing else, he may at\nleast try me with an opera, and as to what may occur hereafter I care\nnot. Adieu! I hope you will put the thing in train at once, or some one\nmay forestall me.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 90",
    "body": "Mannheim, Jan. 17, 1778.\n\nNEXT Wednesday I am going for some days to Kirchheim-Boland, the\nresidence of the Princess of Orange. I have heard so much praise of her\nhere, that at last I have resolved to go. A Dutch officer, a particular\nfriend of mine, [M. de la Pottrie,] was much upbraided by her for\nnot bringing me with him when he went to offer his new-year's\ncongratulations. I expect to receive at least eight louis-d'or, for as\nshe has a passionate admiration of singing, I have had four arias copied\nout for her. I will also present her with a symphony, for she has a very\nnice orchestra and gives a concert every day. Besides, the copying of\nthe airs will not cost me much, for a M. Weber who is going there with\nme has copied them. He has a daughter who sings admirably, and has\na lovely pure voice; she is only fifteen. [Footnote: Aloysia, second\ndaughter of the prompter and theatrical copyist, Weber, a brother\nof Carl Maria von Weber's father.] She fails in nothing but in stage\naction; were it not for that, she might be the prima donna of any\ntheatre. Her father is a downright honest German who brings up his\nchildren well, for which very reason the girl is persecuted here. He has\nsix children,--five girls and a son. He and his wife and children have\nbeen obliged to live for the last fourteen years on an income of\n200 florins, but as he has always done his duty well, and has lately\nprovided a very accomplished singer for the Elector, he has now actually\n400 florins. My aria for De' Amicis she sings to perfection with all its\ntremendous passages: she is to sing it at Kirchheim-Boland.\n\nNow for another subject. Last Wednesday there was a great feast in our\nhouse, [at Hofkammerrath Serrarius's,] to which I was also invited.\nThere were fifteen guests, and the young lady of the house [Pierron, the\n\"House Nymph\"] was to play in the evening the concerto I had taught her\nat eleven o'clock in the forenoon. The Herr Kammerrath and Herr Vogler\ncalled on me. Herr Vogler seems quite determined to become acquainted\nwith me, as he often importuned me to go to see him, but he has overcome\nhis pride and paid me the first visit. Besides, people tell me that he\nis now very different, being no longer so much admired; for at first\nhe was made quite an idol of here. We went up-stairs together, when by\ndegrees the guests assembled, and there was no end to talking. After\ndinner, Vogler sent for two pianos of his, which were tuned alike,\nand also his wearisome engraved sonatas. I had to play them, while he\naccompanied me on the other piano. At his urgent request I sent for my\nsonatas also. N. B.--Before dinner he had scrambled through my sonata at\nsight, (the Litzau one which the young lady of the house plays.) He\ntook the first part prestissimo--the Andante allegro--and the Rondo more\nprestissimo still. He played great part of the bass very differently\nfrom the way in which it is written, inventing at times quite another\nharmony and melody. It is impossible to do otherwise in playing at such\na pace, for the eyes cannot see the notes, nor the hands get hold of\nthem. What merit is there in this? The listeners (I mean those worthy of\nthe name) can only say that they have SEEN music and piano-playing. All\nthis makes them hear, and think, and feel as little--as he does. You may\neasily believe that this was beyond all endurance, because I could not\nventure to say to him MUCH TOO QUICK! besides, it is far easier to play\na thing quickly than slowly; some notes may then be dropped without\nbeing observed. But is this genuine music? In rapid playing the right\nand left hands may be changed, and no one either see or hear it; but is\nthis good? and in what does the art of reading prima vista consist? In\nthis--to play the piece in the time in which it ought to be played, and\nto express all the notes and apoggiaturas, &c., with proper taste and\nfeeling as written, so that it should give the impression of being\ncomposed by the person who plays it. His fingering also is miserable;\nhis left thumb is just like that of the late Adlgasser, all the runs\ndownwards with the right hand he makes with the first finger and thumb!",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 91",
    "body": "Mannheim, Feb. 2 1778.\n\nI COULD no delay writing to you till the usual Saturday arrived, because\nit was so long since I had the pleasure of conversing with you by\nmeans of my pen. The first thing I mean to write about is how my worthy\nfriends and I got on at Kirchheim-Boland. It was simply a holiday\nexcursion, and nothing more. On Friday morning at eight o'clock we\ndrove away from here, after I had breakfasted with Herr Weber. We had\na capital covered coach which held four; at four o'clock we arrived at\nKirchheim-Boland. We immediately sent a list of our names to the palace.\nNext morning early, Herr Concertmeister Rothfischer called on us. He had\nbeen already described to me at Mannheim as a most honorable man, and\nsuch I find him to be. In the evening we went to court, (this was on\nSaturday,) where Madlle. Weber sang three airs. I say nothing of her\nsinging, but it is indeed admirable. I wrote to you lately with regard\nto her merits; but I cannot finish this letter without writing further\nabout her, as I have only recently known her well, so now first discover\nher great powers. We dined afterwards at the officers' table. Next day\nwe went some distance to church, for the Catholic one is rather far\naway. This was on Sunday. In the forenoon we dined again with the\nofficers. In the evening there was no music, because it was Sunday. Thus\nthey have music only 300 times during the year. In the evening we might\nhave supped at court, but we preferred being all together at the inn.\nWe would gladly have made them a present also of the dinners at the\nofficers' table, for we were never so pleased as when by ourselves;\nbut economy rather entered our thoughts, since we were obliged to pay\nheavily enough at the inn.\n\nThe following day, Monday, we had music again, and also on Tuesday and\nWednesday. Madlle. Weber sang in all thirteen times, and played twice on\nthe piano, for she plays by no means badly. What surprises me most is,\nthat she reads music so well. Only think of her playing my difficult\nsonatas at sight, SLOWLY, but without missing a single note. I give you\nmy honor I would rather hear my sonatas played by her than by Vogler. I\nplayed twelve times, and once, by desire, on the organ of the Lutheran\nchurch. I presented the Princess with four symphonies, and received only\nseven louis-d'or in silver, and our poor dear Madlle. Weber only five.\nThis I certainly did not anticipate! I never expected great things,\nbut at all events I hoped that each of us would at least receive eight\nlouis-d'or. Basta! We were not, however, losers, for I have a profit\nof forty-two florins, and the inexpressible pleasure of becoming better\nacquainted with worthy upright Christian people, and good Catholics, I\nregret much not having known them long ago.\n\nThe 4th.--Now comes something urgent, about which I request an answer.\nMamma and I have discussed the matter, and we agree that we do not like\nthe sort of life the Wendlings lead. Wendling is a very honorable and\nkind man, but unhappily devoid of all religion, and the whole family\nare the same. I say enough when I tell you that his daughter was a most\ndisreputable character. Ramm is a good fellow, but a libertine. I\nknow myself, and I have such a sense of religion that I shall never do\nanything which I would not do before the whole world; but I am alarmed\neven at the very thoughts of being in the society of people, during my\njourney, whose mode of thinking is so entirely different from mine\n(and from that of all good people). But of course they must do as they\nplease. I have no heart to travel with them, nor could I enjoy one\npleasant hour, nor know what to talk about; for, in short, I have no\ngreat confidence in them. Friends who have no religion cannot be long\nour friends. I have already given them a hint of this by saying that\nduring my absence three letters had arrived, of which I could for the\npresent divulge nothing further than that it was unlikely I should be\nable to go with them to Paris, but that perhaps I might come later, or\npossibly go elsewhere; so they must not depend on me. I shall be able to\nfinish my music now quite at my ease for De Jean, who is to give me 200\nflorins for it. I can remain here as long as I please, and neither board\nnor lodging cost me anything. In the meantime Herr Weber will endeavor\nto make various engagements for concerts with me, and then we shall\ntravel together. If I am with him, it is just as if I were with\nyou. This is the reason that I like him so much; except in personal\nappearance, he resembles you in all respects, and has exactly your\ncharacter and mode of thinking. If my mother were not, as you know, too\nCOMFORTABLY LAZY to write, she would say precisely what I do. I must\nconfess that I much enjoyed my excursion with them. We were pleased\nand merry; I heard a man converse just like you; I had no occasion to\ntrouble myself about anything; what was torn I found repaired. In short,\nI was treated like a prince. I am so attached to this oppressed family\nthat my greatest wish is to make them happy, and perhaps I may be able\nto do so. My advice is that they should go to Italy, so I am all anxiety\nfor you to write to our good friend Lugiati [impresario], and the sooner\nthe better, to inquire what are the highest terms given to a prima donna\nin Verona--the more the better, for it is always easy to accept lower\nterms. Perhaps it would be possible to obtain the Ascensa in Venice. I\nwill be answerable with my life for her singing, and her doing credit to\nmy recommendation. She has, even during this short period, derived much\nprofit from me, and how much further progress she will have made by that\ntime! I have no fears either with regard to her acting. If this plan be\nrealized, M. Weber, his two daughters, and I, will have the happiness\nof visiting my dear papa and dear sister for a fortnight, on our way\nthrough Salzburg. My sister will find a friend and companion in Madlle.\nWeber, for, like my sister in Salzburg, she enjoys the best reputation\nhere, owing to the careful way in which she has been brought up; the\nfather resembles you, and the whole family that of Mozart. They have\nindeed detractors, as with us, but when it comes to the point they must\nconfess the truth; and truth lasts longest. I should be glad to go with\nthem to Salzburg, that you might hear her. My air that De' Amicis used\nto sing, and the bravura aria \"Parto m' affretto,\" and \"Dalla sponda\ntenebrosa,\" she sings splendidly. Pray do all you can to insure our\ngoing to Italy together. You know my greatest desire is--to write\noperas.\n\nI will gladly write an opera for Verona for thirty zecchini, solely that\nMadlle. Weber may acquire fame by it; for, if I do not, I fear she may\nbe sacrificed. Before then I hope to make so much money by visiting\ndifferent places that I shall be no loser. I think we shall go to\nSwitzerland, perhaps also to Holland; pray write to me soon about this.\nShould we stay long anywhere, the eldest daughter [Josepha, afterwards\nMadaine Hofer, for whom the part of the Queen of the Night in the\n\"Flauto magico\" was written] would be of the greatest use to us; for we\ncould have our own menage, as she understands cooking.\n\nSend me an answer soon, I beg. Don't forget my wish to write an opera; I\nenvy every person who writes one; I could almost weep from vexation when\nI hear or see an aria. But Italian, not German--seria, not buffa! I have\nnow written you all that is in my heart; my mother is satisfied with my\nplan.\n\nThe mother, however, adds the following postscript:--\n\n\"No doubt you perceive by the accompanying letter that when Wolfgang\nmakes new friends he would give his life for them. It is true that she\ndoes sing incomparably; still, we ought not to lose sight of our own\ninterests. I never liked his being in the society of Wendling and Ramm,\nbut I did not venture to object to it, nor would he have listened to\nme; but no sooner did he know these Webers than he instantly changed his\nmind. In short, he prefers other people to me, for I remonstrate with\nhim sometimes, and that he does not like. I write this quite secretly\nwhile he is at dinner, for I don't wish him to know it.\"\n\nA few days later Wolfgang urges his father still more strongly.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 94",
    "body": "Mannheim, Feb. 19, 1778.\n\nI ALWAYS thought that you would disapprove of my journey with the\nWebers, but I never had any such intention--I mean, UNDER PRESENT\nCIRCUMSTANCES. I gave them my word of honor to write to you to that\neffect. Herr Weber does not know how we stand, and I certainly shall\ntell it to no one. I wish my position had been such that I had no cause\nto consider any one else, and that we were all independent; but in the\nintoxication of the moment I forgot the present impossibility of the\naffair, and also to tell you what I had done. The reasons of my not\nbeing now in Paris must be evident to you from my last two letters. If\nmy mother had not first begun on the subject, I certainly would have\ngone with my friends; but when I saw that she did not like it, I began\nto dislike it also. When people lose confidence in me, I am apt to lose\nconfidence in myself. The days when, standing on a stool, I sang Oragna\nfiaguta fa, [Footnote: Words sounding like Italian, but devoid of\nmeaning, for which he had invented a melody. Nissen gives it in his\nLife of Mozart, p. 35.] and at the end kissed the tip of your nose,\nare indeed gone by; but still, have my reverence, love, and obedience\ntowards yourself ever failed on that account? I say no more. As for your\nreproach about the little singer in Munich [see No. 62], I must confess\nthat I was an ass to write such a complete falsehood. She does not as\nyet know even what singing means. It was true that, for a person who\nhad only learned music for three months, she sang surprisingly; and,\nbesides, she has a pleasing pure voice. The reason why I praised her so\nmuch was probably my hearing people say, from morning to night, \"There\nis no better singer in all Europe; those who have not heard her have\nheard nothing.\" I did not venture to disagree with them, partly because\nI wished to acquire friends, and partly because I had come direct from\nSalzburg, where we are not in the habit of contradicting any one; but\nas soon as I was alone I never could help laughing. Why, then, did I not\nlaugh at her in my letter to you? I really cannot tell.\n\nThe bitter way in which you write about my merry and innocent\nintercourse with your brother's daughter, makes me justly indignant;\nbut as it is not as you think, I require to give you no answer on the\nsubject. I don't know what to say about Wallerstein; I was very grave\nand reserved with Becke, and at the officers' table also I had a very\nserious demeanor, not saying one word to anybody. But let this all pass;\nyou only wrote it in a moment of irritation [see No. 74]. Your remarks\nabout Madlle. Weber are just; but at the time I wrote to you I knew\nquite as well as you that she is still too young, and must be first\ntaught how to act, and must rehearse frequently on the stage. But with\nsome people one must proceed step by step. These good people are as\ntired of being here as--you know WHO and WHERE, [meaning the Mozarts,\nfather and son, in Salzburg,] and they think everything feasible. I\npromised them to write everything to my father; but when the letter was\nsent off to Salzburg, I constantly told her that she must have a little\npatience, for she was still rather too young, &c. They take in all I\nsay in good part, for they have a high opinion of me. By my advice,\nHerr Weber has engaged Madlle. Toscani (an actress) to give his daughter\nlessons in acting. All you write of Madlle. Weber is true, except, that\nshe sings like a Gabrielli, [see Nos. 10, 37,] for I should not at all\nlike her to sing in that style. Those who have heard Gabrielli say, and\nmust say, that she was only an adept in runs and roulades; but as she\nadopted so uncommon a reading, she gained admiration, which, however,\ndid not last longer than hearing her four times. She could not please\nin the long run, for roulades soon become very tiresome, and she had the\nmisfortune of not being able to sing. She was not capable of sustaining\na breve properly, and having no messa di voce, she could not dwell on\nher notes; in short, she sang with skill, but devoid of intelligence.\nMadlle. Weber's singing, on the contrary, goes to the heart, and she\nprefers a cantabile. I have lately made her practise the passages in\nthe Grand Aria, because, if she goes to Italy, it is necessary that she\nshould sing bravuras. The cantabile she certainly will never forget,\nbeing her natural bent. Raaff (who is no flatterer), when asked to give\nhis sincere opinion, said, \"She does not sing like a scholar, but like a\nprofessor.\"\n\nSo now you know everything. I do still recommend her to you with my\nwhole heart, and I beg you will not forget about the arias, cadenzas,\n&c. I can scarcely write from actual hunger. My mother will display the\ncontents of our large money-box. I embrace my sister lovingly. She is\nnot to lament about every trifle, or I will never come back to her.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 96",
    "body": "Mannheim, Feb. 28, 1778.\n\nI HOPE to receive the arias next Friday or Saturday, although in your\nlast letter you made no further mention of them, so I don't know whether\nyou sent them off on the 22d by the post-carriage. I hope so, for I\nshould like to play and sing them to Madlle. Weber. I was yesterday at\nRaafl's to take him an aria that I lately wrote for him [Kochel, No.\n295]. The words are--\"Se al labbro mio non credi, nemica mia.\" I don't\nthink they are by Metastasio. The aria pleased him beyond all measure.\nIt is necessary to be very particular with a man of this kind. I chose\nthese words expressly, because he had already composed an aria for them,\nso of course he can sing it with greater facility, and more agreeably\nto himself. I told him to say honestly if it did not suit his voice or\nplease him, for I would alter it if he wished, or write another. \"Heaven\nforbid!\" said he; \"it must remain just as it is, for nothing can be more\nbeautiful. I only wish you to curtail it a little, for I am no longer\nable to sustain my voice through so long a piece.\" \"Most gladly,\" I\nanswered, \"as much as ever you please; I made it purposely rather long,\nfor it is always easy to shorten, but not so easy to lengthen.\" After he\nhad sung the second part, he took off his spectacles, and, looking at\nme deliberately, said, \"Beautiful! beautiful! This second part is quite\ncharming;\" and he sang it three times. When I went away he cordially\nthanked me, while I assured him that I would so arrange the aria that he\nwould certainly like to sing it. I think an aria should fit a singer as\naccurately as a well-made coat. I have also, for practice, arranged\nthe air \"Non so d' onde viene\" which has been so charmingly composed by\nBach. Just because I know that of Bach so well, and it pleases me and\nhaunts my ear, I wished to try if, in spite of all this, I could succeed\nin writing an aria totally unlike the other. And, indeed, it does not in\nthe very least resemble it. I at first intended this aria for Raaff; but\nthe beginning seemed to me too high for Raaff's voice, but it pleased\nme so much that I would not alter it; and from the orchestral\naccompaniment, too, I thought it better suited to a soprano. I therefore\nresolved to write it for Madlle. Weber. I laid it aside, and took the\nwords \"Se al labbro\" for Raaff. But all in vain, for I could write\nnothing else, as the first air always came back into my head; so I\nreturned to it, with the intention of making it exactly in accordance\nwith Madlle. Weber's voice. It is andante sostenuto, (preceded by a\nshort recitative,) then follows the other part, Nel seno destarmi, and\nafter this the sostenuto again. When it was finished, I said to Madlle.\nWeber, \"Learn the air by yourself, sing it according to your own taste,\nthen let me hear it, and I will afterwards tell you candidly what\npleases and what displeases me.\"\n\nIn the course of a couple of days I went to see her, when she sang it\nfor me and accompanied herself, and I was obliged to confess that she\nhad sung it precisely as I could have wished, and as I would have taught\nit to her myself. This is now the best aria that she has, and will\ninsure her success whereever she goes. [Footnote: This wonderfully\nbeautiful aria is appended to my Life of Mozart.--Stuttgart, Bruckmaun,\n1863.] Yesterday at Wendling's I sketched the aria I promised his wife\n[Madame Wendling was a fine singer], with a short recitative. The words\nwere chosen by himself from \"Didone\": \"Ah non lasciarmi no.\" She and her\ndaughter quite rave about this air. I promised the daughter also some\nFrench ariettes, one of which I began to-day. I think with delight\nof the Concert Spirituel in Paris, for probably I shall be desired to\ncompose something for it. The orchestra is said to be good and numerous,\nso my favorite style of composition can be well given there--I mean\nchoruses, and I am very glad to hear that the French place so much value\non this class of music. The only fault found with Piccini's [Gluck's\nwell-known rival] new opera \"Roland\" is that the choruses are too meagre\nand weak, and the music also a little monotonous; otherwise it was\nuniversally liked. In Paris they are accustomed to hear nothing but\nGluck's choruses. Only place confidence in me; I shall strive with all\nmy might to do honor to the name of Mozart. I have no fears at all on\nthe subject.\n\nMy last letters must have shown you HOW THINGS ARE, and WHAT I REALLY\nMEANT. I do entreat of you never to allow the thought to cross your mind\nthat I can ever forget you, for I cannot bear such an idea. My chief aim\nis, and always will be, to endeavor that we may meet soon and happily,\nbut we must have patience. You know even better than I do that things\noften take a perverse turn, but they will one day go straight--only\npatience! Let us place our trust in God, who will never forsake us. I\nshall not be found wanting; how can you possibly doubt me? Surely it\nconcerns me also to work with all my strength, that I may have the\npleasure and the happiness (the sooner the better, too) of embracing\nfrom my heart my dearest and kindest father. But, lo and behold! nothing\nin this world is wholly free from interested motives. If war should\nbreak out in Bavaria, I do hope you will come and join me at once.\nI place faith in three friends--and they are powerful and invincible\nones--namely, God, and your head and mine. Our heads are, indeed, very\ndifferent, but each in its own way is good, serviceable, and useful;\nand in time I hope mine may by degrees equal yours in that class of\nknowledge in which you at present surpass me. Farewell! Be merry and of\ngood cheer! Remember that you have a son who never intentionally failed\nin his filial duty towards you, and who will strive to become daily more\nworthy of so good a father.\n\nAfter these frank confessions, which would, he knew, restore the\nprevious good understanding between him and his father, Mozart's genuine\ngood heart was so relieved and lightened, that the natural balance of\nhis mind, which had for some weeks past been entirely destroyed, was\nspeedily restored, and his usual lively humor soon began to revive.\nIndeed, his old delight in doggerel rhymes and all kinds of silly puns\nseems to return. He indulges fully in these in a letter to his Basle\n(cousin), which is undoubtedly written just after the previous one.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 97",
    "body": "Mannheim, Feb. 28, 1778.\n\nMADEMOISELLE, MA TRES-CHERE COUSINE,--\n\nYou perhaps think or believe that I must be dead? Not at all! I beg you\nwill not think so, for how could I write so beautifully if I were dead?\nCould such a thing be possible? I do not attempt to make any excuses\nfor my long silence, for you would not believe me if I did. But truth is\ntruth; I have had so much to do that though I have had time to think of\nmy cousin, I have had no time to write to her, so I was obliged to let\nit alone. But at last I have the honor to inquire how you are, and how\nyou fare? If we soon shall have a talk? If you write with a lump of\nchalk? If I am sometimes in your mind? If to hang yourself you're\ninclined? If you're angry with me, poor fool? If your wrath begins to\ncool?--Oh! you are laughing! VICTORIA! I knew you could not long resist\nme, and in your favor would enlist me. Yes! yes! I know well how this\nis, though I'm in ten days off to Paris. If you write to me from pity,\ndo so soon from Augsburg city, so that I may get your letter, which to\nme would be far better.\n\nNow let us talk of other things. Were you very merry during the\nCarnival? They are much gayer at Augsburg at that time than here. I only\nwish I had been there that I might have frolicked about with you. Mamma\nand I send our love to your father and mother, and to our cousin, and\nhope they are well and happy; better so, so better! A propos, how goes\non your French? May I soon write you a French letter? from Paris, I\nsuppose?\n\nNow, before I conclude, which I must soon do because I am in haste,\n(having just at this moment nothing to do,) and also have no more\nroom, as you see my paper is done, and I am very tired, and my fingers\ntingling from writing so much, and lastly, even if I had room, I don't\nknow what I could say, except, indeed, a story which I have a great mind\nto tell you. So listen! It is not long since it happened, and in this\nvery country too, where it made a great sensation, for really it seemed\nalmost incredible, and, indeed, between ourselves, no one yet knows the\nresult of the affair. So, to be brief, about four miles from here--I\ncan't remember the name of the place, but it was either a village or\na hamlet, or something of that kind. Well, after all, it don't much\nsignify whether it was called Triebetrill or Burmsquick; there is no\ndoubt that it was some place or other. There a shepherd or herdsman\nlived, who was pretty well advanced in years, but still looked strong\nand robust; he was unmarried and well-to-do, and lived happily. But\nbefore telling you the story, I must not forget to say that this man\nhad a most astounding voice when he spoke; he terrified people when he\nspoke! Well! to make my tale as short as possible, you must know that\nhe had a dog called Bellot, a very handsome large dog, white with black\nspots. Well! this shepherd was going along with his sheep, for he had a\nflock of eleven thousand under his care, and he had a staff in his hand,\nwith a pretty rose-colored topknot of ribbons, for he never went out\nwithout his staff; such was his invariable custom. Now to proceed; being\ntired, after having gone a couple of miles, he sat down on a bank beside\na river to rest. At last he fell asleep, when he dreamt that he had lost\nall his sheep, and this fear awoke him, but to his great joy he saw his\nflock close beside him. At length he got up again and went on, but not\nfor long; indeed, half an hour could scarcely have elapsed, when he came\nto a bridge which was very long, but with a parapet on both sides to\nprevent any one falling into the river. Well; he looked at his flock,\nand as he was obliged to cross the bridge, he began to drive over his\neleven thousand sheep. Now be so obliging as to wait till the eleven\nthousand sheep are all safely across, and then I will finish the story.\nI already told you that the result is not yet known; I hope, however,\nthat by the time I next write to you, all the sheep will have crossed\nthe bridge; but if not, why should I care? So far as I am concerned,\nthey might all have stayed on this side. In the meantime you must\naccept the story so far as it goes; what I really know to be true I have\nwritten, and it is better to stop now than to tell you what is false,\nfor in that case you would probably have discredited the whole, whereas\nnow you will only disbelieve one half.\n\nI must conclude, but don't think me rude; he who begins must cease, or\nthe world would have no peace. My compliments to every friend, welcome\nto kiss me without end, forever and a day, till good sense comes my\nway; and a fine kissing that will be, which frightens you as well as\nme. Adieu, ma chere cousine! I am, I was, I have been, oh! that I were,\nwould to heavens I were! I will or shall be, would, could, or should\nbe--what?--A blockhead! W. A. M.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 100",
    "body": "Paris, March 24, 1778.\n\nYESTERDAY (Monday, the 23d), at four o'clock in the afternoon, we\narrived here, thank God! safely, having been nine days and a half on our\njourney. We thought we really could not have gone through with it; in my\nlife I never was so wearied. You may easily imagine what it was to leave\nMannheim and so many dear kind friends, and then to travel for ten days,\nnot only without these friends, but without any human being--without a\nsingle soul whom we could associate with or even speak to. Now, thank\nHeaven! we are at our destination, and I trust that, with the help of\nGod, all will go well. To-day we are to take a fiacre and go in quest of\nGrimm and Wendling. Early to-morrow I intend to call on the Minister of\nthe Palatinate, Herr von Sickingen, (a great connoisseur and passionate\nlover of music, and for whom I have two letters from Herr von Gemmingen\nand M. Cannabich.) Before leaving Mannheim I had the quartet transcribed\nthat I wrote at Lodi one evening in the inn there, and also the quintet\nand the Fischer variations for Herr von Gemmingen [author of the\n\"Deutsche Hausvater\"], on which he wrote me a most polite note,\nexpressing his pleasure at the souvenir I had left him, and sending me\na letter to his intimate friend Herr von Sickingen, adding, \"I feel sure\nthat you will be a greater recommendation to the letter than the letter\ncan possibly be to you;\" and, to repay the expense of writing out\nthe music, he sent me three louis-d'or; he also assured me of his\nfriendship, and requested mine in return. I must say that all those who\nknew me, Hofrathe, Kammerrathe, and other high-class people, as well as\nall the court musicians, were very grieved and reluctant to see me go;\nand really and truly so.\n\nWe left on Saturday, the 14th, and on the previous Thursday there was an\nafternoon concert at Cannabich's, where my concerto for three pianos\nwas given. Madlle. Rose Cannabich played the first, Madlle. Weber the\nsecond, and Madlle. Pierron Serrarius (our \"house-nymph\") the third.\nWe had three rehearsals of the concerto, and it went off well. Madlle.\nWeber sang three arias of mine, the \"Aer tranquillo\" from the \"Re\nPastore,\" [Footnote: A festal opera that Mozart had composed in 1775, in\nhonor of the visit of the Archduke Maximilian Francis to Salzburg.] and\nthe new \"Non so d' onde viene.\" With this last air my dear Madlle. Weber\ngained very great honor both for herself and for me. All present said\nthat no aria had ever affected them like this one; and, indeed, she\nsang it as it ought to be sung. The moment it was finished, Cannabich\nexclaimed, \"Bravo! bravissimo maestro! veramente scritta da maestro!\" It\nwas given for the first time on this occasion with instruments. I should\nlike you to have heard it also, exactly as it was executed and sung\nthere, with such precision in time and taste, and in the pianos and\nfortes. Who knows? you may perhaps still hear her. I earnestly hope so.\nThe members of the orchestra never ceased praising the aria and talking\nabout it.\n\nI have many kind friends at Mannheim (both highly esteemed and rich) who\nwished very much to keep me there. Well! where I am properly paid, I am\ncontent to be. Who can tell? it may still come to pass. I wish it may;\nand thus it ever is with me--I live always in hope. Herr Cannabich is an\nhonorable, worthy man, and a kind friend of mine. He has only one fault,\nwhich is, that although no longer very young, he is rather careless and\nabsent,--if you are not constantly before his eyes, he is very apt to\nforget all about you. But where the interests of a real friend are in\nquestion, he works like a horse, and takes the deepest interest in\nthe matter; and this is of great use, for he has influence. I cannot,\nhowever, say much in favor of his courtesy or gratitude; the Webers\n(for whom I have not done half so much), in spite of their poverty and\nobscurity, have shown themselves far more grateful. Madame Cannabich and\nher daughter never thanked me by one single word, much less thought of\noffering me some little remembrance, however trifling, merely as a proof\nof kindly feeling; but nothing of the sort, not even thanks, though I\nlost so much time in teaching the daughter, and took such pains with\nher. She can now perfectly well perform before any one; as a girl only\nfourteen, and an amateur, she plays remarkably well, and for this they\nhave to thank me, which indeed is very well known to all in Mannheim.\nShe has now neatness, time, and good fingering, as well as even shakes,\nwhich she had not formerly. They will find that they miss me much three\nmonths hence, for I fear she will again be spoiled, and spoil herself;\nunless she has a master constantly beside her, and one who thoroughly\nunderstands what he is about, she will do no good, for she is still too\nchildish and giddy to practise steadily and carefully alone. [Footnote:\nRosa Cannabich became, indeed, a remarkable virtuoso. C L. Junker\nmentions her, even in his musical almanac of 1783, among the most\neminent living artists.]\n\nMadlle. Weber paid me the compliment kindly to knit two pairs of mits\nfor me, as a remembrance and slight acknowledgment. M. Weber wrote out\nwhatever I required gratis, gave me the music-paper, and also made me a\npresent of Moliere's Comedies (as he knew that I had never read them),\nwith this inscription:--\"Ricevi, amico, le opere di Moliere, in segno\ndi gratitudine, e qualche volta ricordati di me.\" [Footnote: \"Accept, my\ndear friend, Moliere's works as a token of my gratitude; and sometimes\nthink of me.\"] And when alone with mamma he said, \"Our best friend, our\nbenefactor, is about to leave us. There can be no doubt that your son\nhas done a great deal for my daughter, and interested himself much about\nher, and she cannot be too thankful to him.\" [Footnote: Aloysia Weber\nbecame afterwards Madame Lange. She had great fame as a singer. We shall\nhear more of her in the Vienna letters.] The day before I set off, they\nwould insist on my supping with them, but I managed to give them two\nhours before supper instead. They never ceased thanking me, and saying\nthey only wished they were in a position to testify their gratitude, and\nwhen I went away they all wept. Pray forgive me, but really tears come\nto my eyes when I think of it. Weber came down-stairs with me, and\nremained standing at the door till I turned the corner and called out\nAdieu!\n\nIn Paris he at once plunged into work, so that his love-affair was for a\ntime driven into the background. Compositions for the Concert Spirituel,\nfor the theatre, and for dilettanti, as well as teaching and visits to\ngreat people, occupied him. His mother writes: \"I cannot describe to you\nhow much Wolfgang is beloved and praised here. Herr Wendling had said\nmuch in his favor before he came, and has presented him to all his\nfriends. He can dine daily, if he chooses, with Noverre [the famed\nballet-master], and also with Madame d'Epinay\" [Grimm's celebrated\nfriend]. The mother herself scarcely saw him all day, for on account of\ntheir small close apartment, he was obliged to compose at Director\nLe Gros's house. She had (womanlike) written to the father about the\ncomposition of a Miserere. Wolfgang continues the letter, more fully\nexplaining the matter.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 105",
    "body": "Paris, June 12, 1778.\n\nI MUST now write something that concerns our Raaff. [Footnote: Mozart\nwrote the part of Idomeneo for Raaff in the year 1781.] You no doubt\nremember that I did not write much in his favor from Mannheim, and was\nby no means satisfied with his singing--in short, that he did not please\nme at all. The cause, however, was that I can scarcely say I really\nheard him at Mannheim. The first time was at the rehearsal of\nHolzbauer's \"Gunther,\" when he was in his every-day clothes, his hat\non his head, and a stick in his hand. When he was not singing, he stood\nlooking like a sulky child. When he began to sing the first recitative,\nit went tolerably well, but every now and then he gave a kind of shriek,\nwhich I could not bear. He sang the arias in a most indolent way, and\nyet some of the notes with too much emphasis, which is not what I like.\nThis has been an invariable habit of his, which the Bernacchi school\nprobably entails; for he is a pupil of Bernacchi's. At court, too, he\nused to sing all kinds of airs which, in my opinion, by no means suited\nhis voice; so he did not at all please me. When at length he made his\ndebut here in the Concert Spirituel, he sang Bach's scena, \"Non so d'\nonde viene\" which is, besides, my great favorite, and then for the first\ntime I really heard him sing, and he pleased me--that is, in this class\nof music; but the style itself, the Bernacchi school, is not to my\ntaste. He is too apt to fall into the cantabile. I admit that, when he\nwas younger and in his prime, this must have made a great impression and\ntaken people by surprise; I could like it also, but there is too much of\nit, and it often seems to me positively ludicrous. What does please me\nin him is when he sings short pieces--for instance, andantinos; and\nhe has likewise certain arias which he gives in a manner peculiar to\nhimself. Let each occupy his proper place. I fancy that bravura singing\nwas once his forte, which is even still perceptible in him, and so far\nas age admits of it he has a good chest and a long breath; and then his\nandantino! His voice is fine and very pleasing; if I shut my eyes and\nlisten to him, I think his singing very like Meissner's, only Raaff's\nvoice seems to me more agreeable. I speak of the present time, for I\nnever heard either in his best days. I can therefore only refer to their\nstyle or method of singing, for this a singer always retains. Meissner,\nas you know, had the bad habit of purposely making his voice tremble at\ntimes,--entire quavers and even crotchets, when marked sostenuto,--and\nthis I never could endure in him. Nothing can be more truly odious;\nbesides, it is a style of singing quite contrary to nature. The human\nvoice is naturally tremulous, but only so far as to be beautiful;\nsuch is the nature of the voice, and it is imitated not only on wind\ninstruments, but on stringed instruments, and even on the piano. But the\nmoment the proper boundary is passed it is no longer beautiful, because\nit becomes unnatural. It seems to me then just like an organ when the\nbellows are panting. Now Raaff never does this,--in fact, he cannot\nbear it. Still, so far as a genuine cantabile goes, Meissner pleases me\n(though not altogether, for he also exaggerates) better than Raaff. In\nbravura passages and roulades, Raaff is indeed a perfect master, and he\nhas such a good and distinct articulation, which is a great charm; and,\nas I already said, his andantinus and canzonetti are delightful. He\ncomposed four German songs, which are lovely. He likes me much, and\nwe are very intimate; he comes to us almost every day. I have dined\nat least six times with Count von Sickingen, and always stay from one\no'clock till ten. Time, however, flies so quickly in his house that it\npasses quite imperceptibly. He seems fond of me, and I like very much\nbeing with him, for he is a most friendly, sensible person, possessing\nexcellent judgment and a true insight into music, I was there again\nto-day with Raaff. I took some music with me, as the Count (long since)\nasked me to do so. I brought my newly completed symphony, with which,\non Corpus Christi day, the Concert Spirituel is to commence. The work\npleased them both exceedingly, and I am also well satisfied with it.\nWhether it will be popular here, however, I cannot tell, and, to say\nthe truth, I care very little about it. For whom is it to please? I can\nanswer for its pleasing the few intelligent Frenchmen who may be there;\nas for the numskulls--why, it would be no great misfortune if they were\ndissatisfied. I have some hope, nevertheless, that even the dunces among\nthem may find something to admire. Besides, I have been careful not\nto neglect le premier coup d'archet; and that is sufficient. All the\nwiseacres here make such a fuss on that point! Deuce take me if I can\nsee any difference! Their orchestra begins all at one stroke, just as\nin other places. It is too laughable! Raaff told me a story of Abaco\non this subject. He was asked by a Frenchman, in Munich or\nelsewhere,--\"Monsieur, vous avez ete a Paris?\" \"Oui.\" \"Est-ce que vous\netiez au Concert Spirituel?\" \"Oui.\" \"Que dites-vous du premier coup\nd'archet? avez-vous entendu le premier coup d'archet?\" \"Oui, j'ai\nentendu le premier et le dernier.\" \"Comment le dernier? que veut dire\ncela?\" \"Mais oui, le premier et le dernier; et le dernier meme m'a donne\nplus de plaisir.\" [Footnote: The imposing impression produced by the\nfirst grand crash of a numerous orchestra, commencing with precision,\nin tutti, gave rise to this pleasantry.] A few days afterwards his\nkind mother was taken ill. Even in her letters from Mannheim she often\ncomplained of various ailments, and in Paris also she was still exposed\nto the discomfort of cold dark lodgings, which she was obliged to\nsubmit to for the sake of economy; so her illness soon assumed the worst\naspect, and Mozart experienced the first severe trial of his life. The\nfollowing letter is addressed to his beloved and faithful friend, Abbe\nBullinger, tutor in Count Lodron's family in Salzburg.\n\n\n\n(Private.) 106.\n\nParis, July 3, 1778.\n\nMY VERY DEAR FRIEND,--\n\nMourn with me! This has been the most melancholy day of my life; I\nam now writing at two o'clock in the morning. I must tell you that my\nmother, my darling mother, is no more. God has called her to Himself; I\nclearly see that it was His will to take her from us, and I must learn\nto submit to the will of God. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.\nOnly think of all the distress, anxiety, and care I have endured for the\nlast fourteen days. She died quite unconscious, and her life went out\nlike a light. She confessed three days before, took the sacrament,\nand received extreme unction. The last three days, however, she was\nconstantly delirious, and to-day, at twenty minutes past five o'clock,\nher features became distorted, and she lost all feeling and perception.\nI pressed her hand, I spoke to her, but she did not see me, she did not\nhear me, and all feeling was gone. She lay thus till the moment of her\ndeath, five hours after, at twenty minutes past ten at night. There was\nno one present but myself, Herr Heiner, a kind friend whom my father\nknows, and the nurse. It is quite impossible for me to describe the\nwhole course of the illness to-day. I am firmly convinced that she must\nhave died, and that God had so ordained it. All I would ask of you at\npresent is to act the part of a true friend, by preparing my father by\ndegrees for this sad intelligence. I have written to him by this post,\nbut only that she is seriously ill; and now I shall wait for your answer\nand be guided by it. May God give him strength and courage! My dear\nfriend, I am consoled not only now, but have been so for some time past.\nBy the mercy of God I have borne it all with firmness and composure.\nWhen the danger became imminent, I prayed to God for only two things--a\nhappy death for my mother, and strength and courage for myself; and our\ngracious God heard my prayer and conferred these two boons fully on me.\nI entreat you, therefore, my best friend, to watch over my father for\nme; try to inspire him with courage, that the blow may not be too\nhard and heavy on him when he learns the worst. I also, from my heart,\nimplore you to comfort my sister. Pray go straight to them, but do not\ntell them she is actually dead--only prepare them for the truth. Do what\nyou think best, say what you please; only act so that my mind may be\nrelieved, and that I may not have to dread another misfortune. Support\nand comfort my dear father and my dear sister. Answer me at once, I\nentreat. Adieu! Your faithful\n\nW. A. M.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 107",
    "body": "Paris, July 3, 1778.\n\nMONSIEUR MON TRES-CHER PERE,--\n\nI have very painful and sad news to give you, which has, in fact, been\nthe cause of my not having sooner replied to your letter of the 11th.\nMy dearest mother is very ill. She has been bled according to her usual\ncustom, which was indeed very necessary; it did her much good, but a\nfew days afterwards she complained of shivering and feverishness; then\ndiarrhoea came on and headache. At first we only used our home remedies,\nantispasmodic powders; we would gladly have had recourse to the black\npowder, but we had none, and could not get it here. As she became every\nmoment worse, could hardly speak, and lost her hearing, so that we were\nobliged to shout to her, Baron Grimm sent his doctor to see her. She is\nvery weak, and still feverish and delirious. They do give me some hope,\nbut I have not much. I hoped and feared alternately day and night for\nlong, but I am quite reconciled to the will of God, and hope that you\nand my sister will be the same. What other resource have we to make\nus calm? More calm, I ought to say; for altogether so we cannot be.\nWhatever the result may be, I am resigned, knowing that it comes from\nGod, who wills all things for our good, (however unaccountable they may\nseem to us;) and I do firmly believe (and shall never think otherwise)\nthat no doctor, no man living, no misfortune, no casualty, can either\nsave or take away the life of any human being--none but God alone. These\nare only the instruments that He usually employs, but not always; we\nsometimes see people swoon, fall down, and be dead in a moment. When\nour time does come, all means are vain,--they rather hurry on death than\nretard it; this we saw in the case of our friend Hefner. I do not mean\nto say by this that my mother will or must die, or that all hope is at\nan end; she may recover and be restored to health, but only if the Lord\nwills it thus. After praying to God with all my strength for health\nand life for my darling mother, I like to indulge in such consolatory\nthoughts, and, after doing so, I feel more cheerful and more calm and\ntranquil, and you may easily imagine how much I require comfort. Now for\nanother subject. Let us put aside these sad thoughts, and still hope,\nbut not too much; we must place our trust in the Lord, and console\nourselves by the thought that all must go well if it be in accordance\nwith the will of the Almighty, as he knows best what is most profitable\nand beneficial both for our temporal and spiritual welfare.\n\nI have composed a symphony for the opening of the Concert Spirituel,\nwhich was performed with great applause on Corpus Christi day. I hear,\ntoo, that there is a notice of it in the \"Courrier de l'Europe,\" and\nthat it has given the greatest satisfaction. I was very nervous during\nthe rehearsal, for in my life I never heard anything go so badly. You\ncan have no idea of the way in which they scraped and scrambled through\nmy symphony twice over; I was really very uneasy, and would gladly have\nhad it rehearsed again, but so many things had been tried over that\nthere was no time left. I therefore went to bed with an aching heart and\nin a discontented and angry spirit. Next day I resolved not to go to the\nconcert at all; but in the evening, the weather being fine, I made up\nmy mind at last to go, determined that if it went as badly as at the\nrehearsal, I would go into the orchestra, take the violin out of the\nhands of M. La Haussaye, the first violin, and lead myself. I prayed to\nGod that it might go well, for all is to His greater honor and glory;\nand ecce, the symphony began, Raaff was standing beside me, and just\nin the middle of the allegro a passage occurred which I felt sure must\nplease, and there was a burst of applause; but as I knew at the time I\nwrote it what effect it was sure to produce, I brought it in once more\nat the close, and then rose shouts of \"Da capo!\" The andante was also\nliked, but the last allegro still more so. Having observed that all\nlast as well as first allegros here begin together with all the other\ninstruments, and generally unisono, mine commenced with only two\nviolins, piano for the first eight bars, followed instantly by a forte;\nthe audience, as I expected, called out \"hush!\" at the soft beginning,\nand the instant the forte was heard began to clap their hands. The\nmoment the symphony was over I went off in my joy to the Palais Royal,\nwhere I took a good ice, told over my beads, as I had vowed, and went\nhome, where I am always happiest, and always shall be happiest, or in\nthe company of some good, true, upright German, who, so long as he is\nunmarried, lives a good Christian life, and when he marries loves his\nwife, and brings up his children properly.\n\nI must give you a piece of intelligence that you perhaps already\nknow--namely, that the ungodly arch-villain Voltaire has died miserably\nlike a dog--just like a brute. This is his reward! You must long since\nhave remarked that I do not like being here, for many reasons, which,\nhowever, do not signify as I am actually here. I never fail to do my\nvery best, and to do so with all my strength. Well, God will make all\nthings right. I have a project in my head, for the success of which I\ndaily pray to God. If it be His almighty will, it must come to pass;\nbut, if not, I am quite contented. I shall then at all events have done\nmy part. When this is in train, and if it turns out as I wish, you must\nthen do your part also, or the whole work would be incomplete. Your\nkindness leads me to hope that you will certainly do so. Don't trouble\nyourself by any useless thoughts on the subject; and one favor I must\nbeg of you beforehand, which is, not to ask me to reveal my thoughts\nmore clearly till the time comes. It is very difficult at present to\nfind a good libretto for an opera. The old ones, which are the best,\nare not written in the modern style, and the new ones are all good for\nnothing; for poetry, which was the only thing of which France had reason\nto be proud, becomes every day worse, and poetry is the only thing which\nrequires to be good here, for music they do not understand. There are\nnow two operas in aria which I could write, one in two acts, and the\nother in three. The two-act one is \"Alexandra et Roxane,\" but the\nauthor of the libretto is still in the country; the one in three acts\nis \"Demofonte\" (by Metastasio). It is a translation interspersed with\nchoruses and dancing, and specially adapted to the French stage. But\nthis one I have not yet got a sight of. Write to me whether you have\nSchroter's concertos in Salzburg, or Hullmandell's sonatas. I should\nlike to buy them to send to you. Both of them are beautiful. With regard\nto Versailles, it never was my intention to go there. I asked the advice\nof Baron Grimm and other kind friends on the point, and they all thought\njust as I did. The salary is not much, and I should be obliged to live a\ndreary life for six months in a place where nothing is to be gained,\nand my talents completely buried. Whoever enters the king's service is\nforgotten in Paris; and then to become an organist! A good appointment\nwould be most welcome to me, but only that of a Capellmeister, and a\nwell-paid one too.\n\nNow, farewell! Be careful of your health; place your trust in God, and\nthen you will find consolation. My dearest mother is in the hands of the\nAlmighty. If He still spares her to us, as I wish He may, we will thank\nHim for this blessing, but if He takes her to Himself, all our anguish,\nmisery, and despair can be of no avail. Let us rather submit with\nfirmness to His almighty will, in the full conviction that it will prove\nfor our good, as he does nothing without a cause. Farewell, dearest\npapa! Do what you can to preserve your health for my sake.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 108",
    "body": "Paris, July 9, 1778.\n\nI HOPE you are prepared to receive with firmness most melancholy and\npainful intelligence. My last letter of the 3d must have shown you that\nno good news could be hoped for. That very same day, the 3d, at twenty\nminutes past ten at night, my mother fell asleep peacefully in the Lord;\nindeed, when I wrote to you she was already in the enjoyment of heavenly\nbliss, for all was then over. I wrote to you in the night, and I\nhope you and my dear sister will forgive me for this slight but very\nnecessary deception; for, judging of your grief and sorrow by my own,\nI could not prevail on myself to startle you suddenly by such dreadful\nintelligence; but I hope you have now summoned up courage to hear the\nworst, and that, after at first giving way to natural and only too just\nanguish and tears, you will eventually submit to the will of God, and\nadore His inscrutable, unfathomable, and all-wise providence. You\ncan easily conceive what I have had to endure, and what courage and\nfortitude I required to bear with composure seeing her become daily\nworse and worse; and yet our gracious God bestowed this boon on me. I\nhave, indeed, suffered and wept, but what did it avail? So I strove to\nbe comforted, and I do hope, my dear father, that my dear sister and\nyou will do likewise. Weep, weep, as you cannot fail to weep, but take\ncomfort at last; remember that God Almighty has ordained it, and how can\nwe rebel against Him? Let us rather pray to Him and thank Him for\nHis goodness, for she died a happy death. Under these heart-rending\ncircumstances there were three things that consoled me--my entire and\nsteadfast submission to the will of God, and the sight of her easy and\nblessed death, which made me feel that in a moment she had become so\nhappy; for how far happier is she now than we are! Indeed, I would fain\nat that moment have gone with her. From this wish and longing proceeded\nmy third source of consolation--namely, that she is not lost to us\nforever, that we shall see her again, and live together far more happily\nand blessedly than in this world. The time as yet we know not, but that\ndoes not disturb me; when God wills it I am ready. His heavenly and holy\nwill has been fulfilled. Let us therefore pray a pious Vater unser for\nher soul, and turn our thoughts to other matters, for there is a time\nfor everything.\n\nI write this in the house of Madame d'Epinay and M. Grimm, with whom I\nnow live; I have a pretty little room with a very agreeable prospect,\nand am as happy as it is possible to be under my present circumstances.\nIt will be a great aid in restoring my tranquillity, to hear that my\ndear father and sister submit with calmness and fortitude to the will of\nGod, and trust Him with their whole heart, in the entire belief that He\norders all for the best. My dearest father, do not give way! My dearest\nsister, be firm! You do not as yet know your brother's kind heart,\nbecause he has not yet had an opportunity to prove it. Remember, my\nloved ones both, that you have a son and a brother anxious to devote all\nhis powers to make you happy, knowing well that the day must come when\nyou will not be hostile to his wish and his desire,--not certainly such\nas to be any discredit to him,--and that you will do all that lies in\nyour power to make him happy. Oh! then we shall all live together as\npeacefully, honorably, and contentedly as it is possible to do in this\nworld, and at last in God's good time all meet again above--the purpose\nfor which we were destined and created.\n\nI received your last letter of the 29th, and see with pleasure that you\nare both, thank God! in good health. I could not help laughing heartily\nat Haydn's tipsy fit. Had I been there, I certainly should have\nwhispered in his ear \"Adlgasser!\" It is really disgraceful in so clever\na man to render himself incapable by his own folly of performing his\nduties at a festival instituted in honor of God; when the Archbishop too\nand his whole court were present, and the church full of people, it was\nquite abominable.[Footnote: The father had written, \"Haydn (organist of\nthe church of the Holy Trinity) played the organ in the afternoon at the\nLitany, and the Te Deum laudamus, but in such a dreadful manner that we\nwere quite startled, and thought he was about to undergo the fate of\nthe deceased Adlgasser [who was seized with paralysis when playing the\norgan] It turned out, however, that he was only rather intoxicated, so\nhis head and hands did not agree\"] This is one of my chief reasons for\ndetesting Salzburg--those coarse, slovenly, dissipated court musicians,\nwith whom no honest man of good breeding could possibly live! instead of\nbeing glad to associate with them, he must feel ashamed of them. It\nis probably from this very cause that musicians are neither loved nor\nrespected with us. If the orchestra were only organised like that\nat Mannheim! I wish you could see the subordination that prevails\nthere--the authority Cannabich exercises; where all is done in earnest.\nCannabich, who is the best director I ever saw, is both beloved and\nfeared by his subordinates, who, as well as himself, are respected by\nthe whole town. But certainly they behave very differently, have good\nmanners, are well dressed (and do not go to public-houses to get drunk).\nThis can never be the case in Salzburg, unless the Prince will place\nconfidence either in you or me and give us full powers, which are\nindispensable to a conductor of music; otherwise it is all in vain.\nIn Salzburg every one is master--so no one is master. If I were to\nundertake it, I should insist on exercising entire authority. The Grand\nChamberlain must have nothing to say as to musical matters, or on any\npoint relating to music. Not every person in authority can become a\nCapellmeister, but a Capellmeister must become a person of authority.\n\nBy the by, the Elector is again in Mannheim. Madame Cannabich and also\nher husband correspond with me. If what I fear were to come to pass, and\nit would be a sad pity if it did,--namely, that the orchestra were to\nbe much diminished,--I still cherish one hope. You know that there is\nnothing I desire more than a good appointment,--good in reputation, and\ngood in money,--no matter where, provided it be in a Catholic country.\nYou fenced skilfully indeed with Count Stahremberg [FOOTNOTE: A\nprebendary of Salzburg, to whom the father had \"opened his heart,\" and\ntold him all that had occurred in Salzburg. Wolfgang's reinstatement in\nhis situation was being negotiated at the time.] throughout the whole\naffair; only continue as you have begun, and do not allow yourself to\nbe deluded; more especially be on your guard if by any chance you enter\ninto conversation with that silly goose---; [FOOTNOTE: He probably\nalludes to the Archbishop's sister, Countess Franziska von Walles,\nwho did the honors of her brother's court, and who, no doubt, also\ninterfered in this matter.] I know her, and believe me, though she may\nhave sugar and honey on her lips, she has gall and wormwood in her head\nand in her heart. It is quite natural that the whole affair should still\nbe in an unsettled state, and many things must be conceded before I\ncould accept the offer; and even if every point were favorably adjusted,\nI would rather be anywhere than at Salzburg. But I need not concern\nmyself on the matter, for it is not likely that all I ask should be\ngranted, as I ask a great deal. Still it is not impossible; and if all\nwere rightly organized, I would no longer hesitate, but solely for the\nhappiness of being with you. If the Salzburgers wish to have me, they\nmust comply with my wishes, or they shall never get me.\n\nSo the Prelate of Baumburg has died the usual prelatical death; but I\nhad not heard that the Prelate of the Holy Cross [in Augsburg] was also\ndead. I grieve to hear it, for he was a good, honest, upright man. So\nyou had no faith in Deacon Zeschinger [see No. 68] being made prelate?\nI give you my honor I never conjectured anything else; indeed, I do not\nknow who else could have got it; and what better prelate could we have\nfor music?\n\nMy friend Raaff leaves this to-morrow; he goes by Brussels to\nAix-la-Chapelle and Spa, and thence to Mannheim, when he is to give me\nimmediate notice of his arrival, for we mean to correspond. He sends\nnumerous greetings to you and to my sister. You write that you have\nheard nothing for a very long time of my pupil in composition; very\ntrue, but what can I say about her? She will never be a composer; all\nlabor is vain with her, for she is not only vastly stupid, but also\nvastly lazy.\n\nI had previously answered you about the opera. As to Noverre's ballet, I\nonly wrote that he might perhaps arrange a new one. He wanted about one\nhalf to complete it, and this I set to music. That is, six pieces are\nwritten by others, consisting entirely of old trumpery French airs;\nthe symphony and contre-danses, and about twelve more pieces, are\ncontributed by me. This ballet has already been given four times with\ngreat applause. I am now positively determined to write nothing more\nwithout previously knowing what I am to get for it: but this was only\na friendly act towards Noverre. Herr Wendling left this last May. If I\nwere to see Baron Bach, I must have very good eyes, for he is not here\nbut in London. Is it possible that I did not tell you this? You shall\nfind that, in future, I will answer all your letters minutely. It is\nsaid that Baron Bach will soon return here; I should be glad of that\nfor many reasons, especially because at his house there will be always\nopportunity to try things over in good earnest. Capellmeister Bach will\nalso soon be here; I believe he is writing an opera. The French are, and\nalways will be, downright donkeys; they can do nothing themselves,\nso they must have recourse to foreigners. I talked to Piccini at the\nConcert Spirituel; he is always most polite to me and I to him when we\ndo by chance meet. Otherwise I do not seek much acquaintance, either\nwith him or any of the other composers; they understand their work and\nI mine, and that is enough. I already wrote to you of the extraordinary\nsuccess my symphony had in the Concert Spirituel. If I receive a\ncommission to write an opera, I shall have annoyance enough, but this\nI shall not much mind, being pretty well accustomed to it--if only that\nconfounded French language were not so detestable for music! It is,\nindeed, too provoking; even German is divine in comparison. And then\nthe singers--but they do not deserve the name, for they do not sing, but\nscream and bawl with all their might through their noses and throats. I\nam to compose a French oratorio for the ensuing Lent, to be given at the\nConcert Spirituel. M. Le Gros (the director) is amazingly well-disposed\ntowards me. You must know that (though I used to see him every day)\nI have not been near him since Easter; I felt so indignant at his not\nhaving my symphony performed. I was often in the same house visiting\nRaaff, and thus passed his rooms constantly. His servants often saw me,\nwhen I always sent him my compliments. It is really a pity he did not\ngive the symphony--it would have been a good hit; and now he has no\nlonger the opportunity to do so, for how seldom are four such performers\nto be found together! One day, when I went to call on Raaff, I was told\nthat he was out, but would soon be home; so I waited. M. Le Gros\ncame into the room and said, \"It is really quite a marvel to have the\npleasure of seeing you once more.\" \"Yes; I have a great deal to do.\" \"I\nhope you will stay and dine with us to-day?\" \"I regret that I cannot,\nbeing already engaged.\" \"M. Mozart, we really must soon spend a day\ntogether.\" \"It will give me much pleasure.\" A long pause; at length,\n\"A propos, are you disposed to write a grand symphony for me for Corpus\nChristi day?\" \"Why not?\" \"May I then rely on this?\" \"Oh, yes! if I may,\nwith equal confidence, rely on its being performed, and that it will\nnot fare like the sinfonie concertante.\" This opened the flood-gates; he\nexcused himself in the best way he could, but did not find much to say.\nIn short, the symphony [Kochel, No. 297] was highly approved of; and Le\nGros is so satisfied with it that he says it is his very best symphony.\nThe andante, however, has not the good fortune to please him; he\ndeclares that it has too many modulations, and is too long. He derives\nthis opinion from the audience forgetting to clap their hands as loudly,\nand to be as vociferous, as at the end of the first and last movements.\nBut this andante is a great favorite WITH MYSELF, as well as with all\nconnoisseurs, amateurs, and the greater part of those who heard it. It\nis the exact reverse of what Le Gros says, for it is both simple and\nshort. But in order to satisfy him (and no doubt some others) I have\nwritten a fresh one. Each good in its own way--each having a different\ncharacter. The last pleases me the best. The first good opportunity I\nhave, I will send you this sinfonie concertante, and also the \"School\nfor the Violin,\" some pieces for the piano, and Vogler's book (\"Ton\nWissenschaft und Kunst\"), and then I hope to have your opinion of them.\nOn August 15th, Ascension Day, my sinfonie, with the new andante, is to\nbe performed for the second time. The sinfonie is in Re, the andante in\nSol, for here one must not say in D or in G. Le Gros is now all for me.\n\nTake comfort and pray without ceasing; this is the only resource we\nhave. I hope you will cause a holy mass to be said in Maria Plain and\nin Loretto. I have done so here. As for the letter to Herr Bahr, I don't\nthink it is necessary to send it to me; I am not as yet acquainted\nwith him; I only know that he plays the clarionet well, but is in other\nrespects no desirable companion, and I do not willingly associate with\nsuch people; no credit is derived from them, and I really should feel\npositively ashamed to give him a letter recommending me to him--even if\nhe could be of service to me; but it so happens that he is by no means\nin good repute here. Many do not know him at all. Of the two Staunitz,\nthe junior only is here [Mannheim composer]. The elder of the two\n(the veritable Hafeneder composer) is in London. They are wretched\nscribblers, gamblers, and drunkards, and not the kind of people for me.\nThe one now here has scarcely a coat to his back. By the by, if Brunetti\nshould ever be dismissed, I would be glad to recommend a friend of mine\nto the Archbishop as first violin; he is a most worthy man, and very\nsteady. I think he is about forty years of age, and a widower; his\nname is Rothfischer. He is Concertmeister at Kirchheim-Boland, with\nthe Princess of Nassau-Weilberg [see No. 91]. Entre nous, he is\ndissatisfied, for he is no favorite with his Prince--that is, his music\nis not. He urged me to forward his interests, and it would cause me real\npleasure to be of use to him, for never was there such a kind man.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 109",
    "body": "Paris, July 18, 1778.\n\nI HOPE you got my last two letters. Let us allude no more to their chief\npurport. All is over; and were we to write whole pages on the subject,\nwe could not alter the fact.\n\nThe principal object of this letter is to congratulate my dear sister\non her name-day. I think I wrote to you that M. Raaff had left this, but\nthat he is my very true and most particular friend, and I can entirely\ndepend on his regard. I could not possibly write to you, because I did\nnot myself know that he had so much affection for me. Now, to write a\nstory properly, one ought to begin from the beginning. I ought to tell\nyou, first, that Raaff lodged with M. Le Gros. It just occurs to me that\nyou already know this; but what am I to do? It is written, and I can't\nbegin the letter again, so I proceed. When he arrived, we happened to be\nat dinner. This, too, has nothing to do with the matter; it is only to\nlet you know that people do dine in Paris, as elsewhere. When I went\nhome I found a letter for me from Herr Weber, and the bearer of it was\nRaaff. If I wished to deserve the name of a historian, I ought here to\ninsert the contents of this letter; and I can with truth say that I am\nvery reluctant to decline giving them. But I must not be too prolix; to\nbe concise is a fine thing, which you can see by my letter. The third\nday I found him at home and thanked him; it is always advisable to be\npolite. I no longer remember what we talked about. An historian must be\nunusually dull who cannot forthwith supply some falsehood--I mean some\nromance. Well! we spoke of the fine weather; and when we had said our\nsay, we were silent, and I went away. Some days after--though what day\nit was I really forget, but one day in the week assuredly--I had\njust seated myself, at the piano of course; and Ritter, the worthy\nHolzbeisser, was sitting beside me. Now, what is to be deduced from\nthat? A great deal. Raaff had never heard me at Mannheim except at a\nconcert, where the noise and uproar was so great that nothing could\nbe heard; and HE had such a miserable piano that I could not have done\nmyself any justice on it. Here, however, the instrument was good, and\nI saw Raaff sitting opposite me with a speculative air; so, as you\nmay imagine, I played some preludes in the Fischietti method, and also\nplayed a florid sonata in the style and with the fire, spirit, and\nprecision of Haydn, and then a fugue with all the skill of Lipp, Silber,\nand Aman. [Footnote: Fischietti was Capellmeister in Salzburg; Michael\nHaydn and Lipp, organists.] My fugue-playing has everywhere gained me\nthe greatest applause. When I had quite finished, (Raaff all the time\ncalling out Bravo! while his countenance showed his true and sincere\ndelight,) I entered into conversation with Ritter, and among other\nthings said that I by no means liked being here; adding, \"The chief\ncause of this is music; besides, I can find no resources here,\nno amusement, no agreeable or sociable intercourse with any\none,--especially with ladies, many of whom are disreputable, and those\nwho are not so are deficient in good breeding.\" Ritter could not deny\nthat I was right. Raaff at last said, smiling, \"I can quite believe it,\nfor M. Mozart is not WHOLLY here to admire the Parisian beauties; one\nhalf of him is elsewhere--where I have just come from.\" This of course\ngave rise to much laughing and joking; but Raaff presently said, in a\nserious tone, \"You are quite right, and I cannot blame you; she deserves\nit, for she is a sweet, pretty, good girl, well educated, and a superior\nperson with considerable talent.\" This gave me an excellent opportunity\nstrongly to recommend my beloved Madlle. Weber to him; but there was no\noccasion for me to say much, as he was already quite fascinated by her.\nHe promised me, as soon as he returned to Mannheim, to give her lessons,\nand to interest himself in her favor. I ought, by rights, to insert\nsomething here, but I must first finish the history of our friendship;\nif there is still room, I may do so. He was in my eyes only an every-day\nacquaintance, and no more; but I often sat with him in his room, so by\ndegrees I began to place more confidence in him, and at last told him\nall my Mannheim history,--how I had been bamboozled and made a fool of,\nadding that perhaps I might still get an appointment there. He neither\nsaid yes nor no; and on every occasion when I alluded to it he seemed\neach time more indifferent and less interested in the matter. At last,\nhowever, I thought I remarked more complacency in his manner, and he\noften, indeed, began to speak of the affair himself. I introduced him\nto Herr Grimm and to Madame d'Epinay. On one occasion he came to me\nand said that he and I were to dine with Count Sickingen some day soon;\nadding, \"The Count and I were conversing together, and I said to him,\n'A propos, has your Excellency heard our Mozart?' 'No; but I should\nlike very much both to see and to hear him, for they write me most\nastonishing things about him from Mannheim.' 'When your Excellency does\nhear him, you will see that what has been written to you is rather\ntoo little than too much.' 'Is it possible?' 'Beyond all doubt, your\nExcellency.'\" Now, this was the first time that I had any reason to\nthink Raaff interested in me. Then it went on increasing, and one day I\nasked him to come home with me; and after that he often came of his\nown accord, and at length every day. The day after he left this, a\ngood-looking man called on me in the forenoon with a picture, and said,\n\"Monsieur, je viens de la part de ce Monsieur,\" showing me a portrait\nof Raaff, and an admirable likeness. Presently he began to speak German;\nand it turned out that he was a painter of the Elector's, whom Raaff\nhad often mentioned to me, but always forgot to take me to see him. I\nbelieve you know him, for it must be the very person Madame Urspringer,\nof Mayence, alludes to in her letter, because he says he often met us\nat the Urspringers'. His name is Kymli. He is a most kind, amiable man,\nwell-principled, honorable, and a good Christian; one proof of which\nis the friendship between him and Raaff. Now comes the best evidence of\nRaaff's regard for me, and the sincere interest he takes in my welfare:\nit is, that he imparts his intentions rather to those whom he can trust\nthan to those more immediately concerned, being unwilling to promise\nwithout the certainty of a happy result. This is what Kymli told me.\nRaaff asked him to call on me and to show me his portrait, to see me\noften, and to assist me in every way, and to establish an intimate\nfriendship with me. It seems he went to him every morning, and\nrepeatedly said to Kymli, \"I was at Herr Mozart's again yesterday\nevening; he is, indeed, a wonderful little fellow; he is an\nout-and-outer, and no mistake!\" and was always praising me. He told\nKymli everything, and the whole Mannheim story--in short, all. The fact\nis, that high-principled, religious, and well-conducted people always\nlike each other. Kymli says I may rest assured that I am in good hands.\n\"Raaff will certainly do all he can for you, and he is a prudent man\nwho will set to work cleverly; he will not say that it is your wish, but\nrather your due. He is on the best footing with the Oberststallmeister.\nRely on it, he will not be beat; only you must let him go his own way\nto work.\" One thing more. Father Martini's letter to Raaff, praising me,\nmust have been lost. Raaff had, some time since, a letter from him, but\nnot a word about me in it. Possibly it is still lying in Mannheim; but\nthis is unlikely, as I know that, during his stay in Paris, all his\nletters have been regularly forwarded to him. As the Elector justly\nentertains a very high opinion of the Padre Maestro, I think it would be\na good thing if you would be so kind as to apply to him to write again\nabout me to Raaff; it might be of use, and good Father Martini would not\nhesitate to do a friendly thing twice over for me, knowing that he might\nthus make my fortune. He no doubt would express the letter in such a\nmanner that it could be shown, if need be, to the Elector. Now enough as\nto this; my wish for a favorable issue is chiefly that I may soon have\nthe happiness of embracing my dear father and sister. Oh! how joyously\nand happily we shall live together! I pray fervently to God to grant me\nthis favor; a new leaf will at last be turned, please God! In the fond\nhope that the day will come, and the sooner the better, when we shall\nall be happy, I mean, in God's name, to persevere in my life here,\nthough so totally opposed to my genius, inclinations, knowledge, and\nsympathies. Believe me, this is but too true,--I write you only the\nsimple truth. If I were to attempt to give you all my reasons, I might\nwrite my fingers off and do no good. For here I am, and I must do all\nthat is in my power. God grant that I may not thus impair my talents;\nbut I hope it will not continue long enough for that. God grant it! By\nthe by, the other day an ecclesiastic called on me. He is the leader of\nthe choir at St. Peter's, in Salzburg, and knows you very well; his name\nis Zendorff; perhaps you may not remember him? He gives lessons here on\nthe piano--in Paris. N. B., have not you a horror of the very name of\nParis? I strongly recommend him as organist to the Archbishop; he says\nhe would be satisfied with three hundred florins. Now farewell! Be\ncareful of your health, and strive to be cheerful. Remember that\npossibly you may ere long have the satisfaction of tossing off a good\nglass of Rhenish wine with your son--your truly happy son. Adieu!\n\n20th.--Pray forgive my being so late in sending you my congratulations,\nbut I wished to present my sister with a little prelude. The mode of\nplaying it I leave to her own feeling. This is not the kind of prelude\nto pass from one key to another, but merely a capriccio to try over a\npiano. My sonatas [Kochel, Nos. 301-306] are soon to be published. No\none as yet would agree to give me what I asked for them, so I have been\nobliged at last to give in, and to let them go for 15 louis-d'or. It is\nthe best way too to make my name known here. As soon as they appear I\nwill send them to you by some good opportunity (and as economically\nas possible) along with your \"School for the Violin,\" Vogler's book,\nHullmandel's sonatas, Schroter's concertos, some of my pianoforte\nsonatas, the sinfonie concertante, two quartets for the flute, and a\nconcerto for harp and flute [Kochel, No. 298, 299].\n\nPray, what do you hear about the war? For three days I was very\ndepressed and sorrowful; it is, after all, nothing to me, but I am so\nsensitive that I feel quickly interested in any matter. I heard that\nthe Emperor had been defeated. At first it was reported that the King\nof Prussia had surprised the Emperor, or rather the troops commanded by\nArchduke Maximilian; that two thousand had fallen on the Austrian\nside, but fortunately the Emperor had come to his assistance with forty\nthousand men, but was forced to retreat. Secondly, it was said that the\nKing had attacked the Emperor himself, and entirely surrounded him, and\nthat if General Laudon had not come to his relief with eighteen hundred\ncuirassiers, he would have been taken prisoner; that sixteen hundred\ncuirassiers had been killed, and Laudon himself shot dead. I have not,\nhowever, seen this in any newspaper, but to-day I was told that the\nEmperor had invaded Saxony with forty thousand troops. Whether the news\nbe true I know not. This is a fine griffonage, to be sure! but I have\nnot patience to write prettily; if you can only read it, it will do well\nenough. A propos, I saw in the papers that, in a skirmish between the\nSaxons and Croats, a Saxon captain of grenadiers named Hopfgarten had\nlost his life, and was much lamented. Can this be the kind, worthy Baron\nHopfgarten whom we knew at Paris with Herr von Bose? I should grieve\nif it were, but I would rather he died this glorious death than have\nsacrificed his life, as too many young men do here, to dissipation and\nvice. You know this already, but it is now worse than ever.\n\nN. B. I hope you will be able to decipher the end of the prelude; you\nneed not be very particular about the time; it is the kind of thing that\nmay be played as you feel inclined. I should like to inflict twenty-five\nstripes on the sorry Vatel's shoulders for not having married Katherl.\nNothing is more shameful, in my opinion, than to make a fool of an\nhonest girl, and to play her false eventually; but I hope this may\nnot be the case. If I were her father, I would soon put a stop to the\naffair.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 110",
    "body": "Paris, July 31, 1778.\n\nI HOPE you have got my two letters of the 11th and 18th. Meantime I have\nreceived yours of the 13th and 20th. The first brought tears of sorrow\nto my eyes, as I was reminded by it of the sad death of my darling\nmother, and the whole scene recurred vividly to me. Never can I forget\nit while I live. You know that (though I often wished it) I had never\nseen any one die, and the first time I did so it was fated to be my own\nmother! My greatest misery was the thoughts of that hour, and I prayed\nearnestly to God for strength. I was heard, and strength was given to\nme. Melancholy as your letter made me, still I was inexpressibly happy\nto find that you both bear this sorrow as it ought to be borne, and that\nmy mind may now be at ease about my beloved father and sister. As soon\nas I read your letter, my first impulse was to throw myself on my knees,\nand fervently to thank our gracious God for this blessing. I am now\ncomparatively happy, because I have no longer anything to dread on\naccount of the two persons who are dearest to me in this world; had\nit been otherwise, such a terrible misfortune would have utterly\noverwhelmed me. Be careful therefore of your precious health for my\nsake, I entreat, and grant to him who flatters himself that he is now\nwhat you love most in the world the joy and felicity soon to embrace\nyou.\n\nYour last letter also caused my tears to flow from joy, as it convinced\nme more than ever of your fatherly love and care. I shall strive with\nall my might still more to deserve your affection. I thank you for the\npowder, but am sure you will be glad to hear that I do not require to\nuse it. During my dear mother's illness it would have been very useful,\nbut now, thank God! I am perfectly well and healthy. At times I have\nfits of melancholy, but the best way to get rid of them is by writing\nor receiving letters, which always cheers me; but, believe me, these sad\nfeelings never recur without too good cause. You wish to have an account\nof her illness and every detail connected with it; that you shall have;\nbut I must ask you to let it be short, and I shall only allude to the\nprincipal facts, as the event is over, and cannot, alas! now be altered,\nand I require some space to write on business topics.\n\nIn the first place, I must tell you that NOTHING could have saved my\nmother. No doctor in the world could have restored her to health. It was\nthe manifest will of God; her time was come, and God chose to take her\nto Himself. You think she put off being bled too long? it may be so, as\nshe did delay it for a little, but I rather agree with the people here,\nwho dissuaded her from being bled at all. The cause of my mother's\nillness was internal inflammation. After being bled she rallied for some\ndays, but on the 19th she complained of headache, and for the first\ntime stayed in bed the whole day. On the 20th she was seized first with\nshivering and then with fever, so I gave her an anti-spasmodic powder. I\nwas at that time very anxious to send for another doctor, but she would\nnot allow me to do so, and when I urged her very strongly, she told me\nthat she had no confidence in any French medical man. I therefore looked\nabout for a German one. I could not, of course, go out and leave her,\nbut I anxiously waited for M. Heina, who came regularly every day to see\nus; but on this occasion two days passed without his appearing. At last\nhe came, but as our doctor was prevented paying his usual visit next\nday, we could not consult with him; in fact, he did not come till the\n24th. The previous day, when I had been expecting him so eagerly, I was\nin great trouble, for my mother suddenly lost her sense of hearing. The\ndoctor, an old German about seventy, gave her rhubarb in wine. I could\nnot understand this, as wine is usually thought heating; but when I said\nso, every one exclaimed, \"How can you say so? Wine is not heating, but\nstrengthening; water is heating.\" And all the time the poor invalid was\nlonging for a drink of fresh water. How gladly would I have complied\nwith her wish! My dear father, you cannot conceive what I went through,\nbut nothing could be done, except to leave her in the hands of the\nphysician. All that I could do with a good conscience, was to pray to\nGod without ceasing, that He would order all things for her good. I went\nabout as if I had altogether lost my head. I had ample leisure then\nto compose, but I was in such a state that I could not have written a\nsingle note. The 25th the doctor did not come; on the 26th he visited\nher again. Imagine my feelings when he all at once said to me, \"I fear\nshe will scarcely live through the night; she may die at any moment. You\nhad better see that she receives the sacrament.\" So I hurried off to\nthe end of the Chaussee d'Antin, and went on beyond the Barriere to find\nHeina, knowing that he was at a concert in the house of some count. He\nsaid that he would bring a German priest with him next morning. On my\nway back I looked in on Madame d'Epinay and M. Grimm for a moment as I\npassed. They were distressed that I had not spoken sooner, as they would\nat once have sent their doctor. I did not tell them my reason, which\nwas, that my mother would not see a French doctor. I was hard put to it,\nas they said they would send their physician that very evening. When\nI came home, I told my mother that I had met Herr Heina with a German\npriest, who had heard a great deal about me and was anxious to hear me\nplay, and that they were both to call on me next day. She seemed quite\nsatisfied, and though I am no doctor, still seeing that she was better\nI said nothing more. I find it impossible not to write at full\nlength--indeed, I am glad to give you every particular, for it will be\nmore satisfactory to you; but as I have some things to write that are\nindispensable, I shall continue my account of the illness in my next\nletter. In the mean time you must have seen from my last letter, that\nall my darling mother's affairs and my own are in good order. When I\ncome to this point, I will tell you how things were arranged. Heina and\nI regulated everything ourselves.\n\nNow for business. Do not allow your thoughts to dwell on what I wrote,\nasking your permission not to reveal my ideas till the proper time\narrived. Pray do not let it trouble you. I cannot yet tell you about\nit, and if I did, I should probably do more harm than good; but, to\ntranquillize you, I may at least say that it only concerns myself. Your\ncircumstances will be made neither better nor worse, and until I see you\nin a better position I shall think no more about the matter. If the day\never arrives when we can live together in peace and happiness, (which\nis my grand object),--when that joyful time comes, and God grant it may\ncome soon!--then the right moment will have arrived, and the rest\nwill depend on yourself. Do not, therefore, discompose yourself on\nthe subject, and be assured that in every case where I know that your\nhappiness and peace are involved, I shall invariably place entire\nconfidence in you, my kind father and true friend, and detail everything\nto you minutely. If in the interim I have not done so, the fault is\nnot solely mine. [FOOTNOTE: He had evidently in his thoughts, what was\nindeed manifest in his previous letters, a speedy marriage with his\nbeloved Aloysia.] M. Grimm recently said to me, \"What am I to write to\nyour father? What course do you intend to pursue? Do you remain here, or\ngo to Mannheim?\" I really could not help laughing: \"What could I do at\nMannheim now? would that I had never come to Paris! but so it is. Here\nI am, and I must use every effort to get forward.\" \"Well,\" said he, \"I\nscarcely think that you will do much good here.\" \"Why? I see a number of\nwretched bunglers who make a livelihood, and why, with my talents, am I\nto fail? I assure you that I like being at Mannheim, and wish very much\nto get some appointment there, but it must be one that is honorable and\nof good repute. I must have entire certainty on the subject before I\nmove a step.\" \"I fear,\" said he, \"that you are not sufficiently active\nhere--you don't go about enough.\" \"Well,\" said I, \"that is the hardest\nof all for me to do.\" Besides, I could go nowhere during my mother's\nlong illness, and now two of my pupils are in the country, and the third\n(the Duke de Guines's daughter) is betrothed, and means no longer to\ncontinue her lessons, which, so far as my credit is concerned, does not\ndistress me much. It is no particular loss to me, for the Duke only pays\nme what every one else does. Only imagine! I went to his house every day\nfor two hours, being engaged to give twenty-four lessons, (but it is\nthe custom here to pay after each twelve lessons.) They went into the\ncountry, and when they came back ten days afterwards, I was not apprised\nof it; had I not by chance inquired out of mere curiosity, I should not\nhave known that they were here. When I did go, the governess took out\nher purse and said to me, \"Pray excuse my only paying you at present\nfor twelve lessons, for I have not enough money.\" This is a noble\nproceeding! She then gave me three louis-d'or, adding, \"I hope you are\nsatisfied; if not, I beg you will say so.\" M. le Duc can have no\nsense of honor, or probably thinks that I am only a young man and a\nthick-headed German, (for this is the way in which the French always\nspeak of us,) and that I shall be quite contented. The thick-headed\nGerman, however, was very far from being contented, so he declined\nreceiving the sum offered. The Duke intended to pay me for one hour\ninstead of two, and all from economy. As he has now had a concerto of\nmine for harp and flute, for the last four months, which he has not yet\npaid me for, I am only waiting till the wedding is over to go to the\ngoverness and ask for my money. What provokes me most of all is that\nthese stupid Frenchmen think I am still only seven years old, as they\nsaw me first when I was that age. This is perfectly true, for Madame\nd'Epinay herself told me so quite seriously. I am therefore treated here\nlike a beginner, except by the musicians, who think very differently;\nbut most votes carry the day!\n\nAfter my conversation with Grimm, I went the very next day to call\non Count Sickingen. He was quite of my opinion that I ought to have\npatience and wait till Raaff arrives at his destination, who will do all\nthat lies in his power to serve me. If he should fail, Count Sickingen\nhas offered to procure a situation for me at Mayence. In the mean time\nmy plan is to do my utmost to gain a livelihood by teaching, and to earn\nas much money as possible. This I am now doing, in the fond hope that\nsome change may soon occur; for I cannot deny, and indeed at once\nfrankly confess, that I shall be delighted to be released from this\nplace. Giving lessons is no joke here, and unless you wear yourself out\nby taking a number of pupils, not much money can be made. You must not\nthink that this proceeds from laziness. No! it is only quite opposed to\nmy genius and my habits. You know that I am, so to speak, plunged\ninto music,--that I am occupied with it the whole day,--that I like\nto speculate, to study, and to reflect. Now my present mode of life\neffectually prevents this. I have, indeed, some hours at liberty, but\nthose few hours are more necessary for rest than for work.\n\nI told you already about the opera. One thing is certain--I must compose\na great opera or none. If I write only smaller ones, I shall get very\nlittle, for here everything is done at a fixed price, and if it should\nbe so unfortunate as not to please the obtuse French, it is all up with\nit. I should get no more to write, have very little profit, and find my\nreputation damaged. If, on the other hand, I write a great opera, the\nremuneration is better, I am working in my own peculiar sphere, in which\nI delight, and I have a greater chance of being appreciated, because in\na great work there is more opportunity to gain approval. I assure you\nthat if I receive a commission to write an opera, I have no fears on the\nsubject. It is true that the devil himself invented their language, and\nI see the difficulties which all composers have found in it. But, in\nspite of this, I feel myself as able to surmount these difficulties as\nany one else. Indeed, when I sometimes think in my own mind that I may\nlook on my opera as a certainty, I feel quite a fiery impulse within\nme, and tremble from head to foot, through the eager desire to teach the\nFrench more fully how to know, and value, and fear the Germans. Why is a\ngreat opera never intrusted to a Frenchman? Why is it always given to a\nforeigner? To me the most insupportable part of it will be the singers.\nWell, I am ready. I wish to avoid all strife, but if I am challenged\nI know how to defend myself. If it runs its course without a duel, I\nshould prefer it, for I do not care to wrestle with dwarfs.\n\nGod grant that some change may soon come to pass! In the mean time I\nshall certainly not be deficient in industry, trouble, and labor.\nMy hopes are centred on the winter, when every one returns from the\ncountry. My heart beats with joy at the thought of the happy day when I\nshall once more see and embrace you.\n\nThe day before yesterday my dear friend Weber, among other things, wrote\nto me that the day after the Elector's arrival it was publicly announced\nthat he was to take up his residence in Munich, which came like a\nthunder-clap on Mannheim, wholly, so to say, extinguishing the universal\nillumination by which the inhabitants had testified their joy on the\nprevious day. The fact was also communicated to all the court musicians,\nwith the addition that each was at liberty to follow the court to\nMunich or to remain in Mannheim, (retaining the same salaries,) and in\na fortnight each was to give a written and sealed decision to\nthe Intendant. Weber, who is, as you know, in the most miserable\ncircumstances, wrote as follows:--\"I anxiously desire to follow my\ngracious master to Munich, but my decayed circumstances prevent my doing\nso.\" Before this occurred there was a grand court concert, where poor\nMadlle. Weber felt the fangs of her enemies; for on this occasion she\ndid not sing! It is not known who was the cause of this. Afterwards\nthere was a concert at Herr von Gemmingen's, where Count Seeau also was.\nShe sang two arias of mine, and was so fortunate as to please, in spite\nof those Italian scoundrels [the singers of Munich], those infamous\ncharlatans, who circulated a report that she had very much gone off\nin her singing. When her songs were finished, Cannabich said to her,\n\"Mademoiselle, I hope you will always continue to fall off in this\nmanner; tomorrow I will write to M. Mozart in your praise.\" One thing is\ncertain; if war had not already broken out, the court would by this time\nhave been transferred to Munich. Count Seeau, who is quite determined\nto engage Madlle. Weber, would have left nothing undone to insure her\ncoming to Munich, so that there was some hope that the family might have\nbeen placed in better circumstances; but now that all is again quiet\nabout the Munich journey, these poor people may have to wait a long\ntime, while their debts daily accumulate. If I could only help them!\nDearest father, I recommend them to you from my heart. If they could\neven for a few years be in possession of 1000 florins!",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 111",
    "body": "To HERR BULLINGER.\n\nParis, August 7, 1778.\n\nMY VERY DEAR FRIEND,--\n\nAllow me above all to thank you most warmly for the proof of friendship\nyou gave me by your interest in my dear father--first in preparing, and\nthen kindly consoling him for his loss [see No. 106]. You played your\npart admirably. These are my father's own words. My kind friend, how\ncan I sufficiently thank you? You saved my father for me. I have you to\nthank that I still have him. Permit me to say no more on the subject,\nand not to attempt to express my gratitude, for I feel too weak and\nincompetent to do so. My best friend, I am forever your debtor; but\npatience! It is too true that I am not yet in a position to repay what\nI owe you, but rely on it God will one day grant me the opportunity of\nshowing by deeds what I am unable to express by words. Such is my hope;\ntill that happy time, however, arrives, allow me to beg you to continue\nyour precious and valued friendship to me, and also to accept mine\nafresh, now and forever; to which I pledge myself in all sincerity\nof heart. It will not, indeed, be of much use to you, but not on that\naccount less sincere and lasting. You know well that the best and\ntruest of all friends are the poor. The rich know nothing of friendship,\nespecially those who are born to riches, and even those whom fate\nenriches often become very different when fortunate in life. But when a\nman is placed in favorable circumstances, not by blind, but reasonable\ngood fortune and merit, who during his early and less prosperous days\nnever lost courage, remaining faithful to his religion and his God,\nstriving to be an honest man and good Christian, knowing how to\nvalue his true friends,--in short, one who really deserves better\nfortune,--from such a man no ingratitude is to be feared.\n\nI must now proceed to answer your letter. You can be under no further\nanxiety as to my health, for you must have ere this received three\nletters from me. The first, containing the sad news of my mother's\ndeath, was enclosed, my dear friend, to you. You must forgive my silence\non the subject, but my thoughts recur to it constantly. You write that\nI should now think only of my father, tell him frankly all my thoughts,\nand place entire confidence in him. How unhappy should I be if I\nrequired this injunction! It was expedient that you should suggest it,\nbut I am happy to say (and you will also be glad to hear it) that I do\nnot need this advice. In my last letter to my dear father, I wrote to\nhim all that I myself know up to this time, assuring him that I would\nalways keep him minutely informed of everything, and candidly tell him\nmy intentions, as I place entire faith in him, being confident of his\nfatherly care, love, and goodness. I feel assured that at a future\nday he will not deny me a request on which my whole happiness in life\ndepends, and which (for he cannot expect anything else from me) will\ncertainly be quite fair and reasonable. My dear friend, do not let my\nfather read this. You know him; he would only fancy all kinds of things,\nand to no purpose.\n\nNow for our Salzburg affair. You, my dear friend, are well aware how\nI do hate Salzburg, not only on account of the injustice shown to my\nfather and myself there, which was in itself enough to make us wish to\nforget such a place, and to blot it out wholly from our memory. But do\nnot let us refer to that, if we can contrive to live respectably there.\nTo live respectably and to live happily, are two very different things;\nbut the latter I never could do short of witchcraft,--it would indeed be\nsupernatural if I did,--so this is impossible, for in these days there\nare no longer any witches. Well, happen what may, it will always be the\ngreatest possible pleasure to me to embrace my dear father and sister,\nand the sooner the better. Still I cannot deny that my joy would be\ntwofold were this to be elsewhere, for I have far more hope of living\nhappily anywhere else. Perhaps you may misunderstand me, and think that\nSalzburg is on too small a scale for me. If so, you are quite mistaken.\nI have already written some of my reasons to my father. In the mean\ntime, let this one suffice, that Salzburg is no place for my talent.\nIn the first place, professional musicians are not held in much\nconsideration; and, secondly, one hears nothing. There is no theatre,\nno opera there; and if they really wished to have one, who is there to\nsing? For the last five or six years the Salzburg orchestra has always\nbeen rich in what is useless and superfluous, but very poor in what is\nuseful and indispensable; and such is the case at the present moment.\nThose cruel French are the cause of the band there being without a\nCapellmeister. [FOOTNOTE: The old Capellmeister, Lolli, had died a short\ntime previously.] I therefore feel assured that quiet and order are now\nreigning in the orchestra. This is the result of not making provision\nin time. Half a dozen Capellmeisters should always be held in readiness,\nthat, if one fails, another can instantly be substituted. But where, at\npresent, is even ONE to be found? And yet the danger is urgent. It will\nnot do to allow order, quiet, and good-fellowship to prevail in the\norchestra, or the mischief would still further increase, and in the\nlong run become irremediable. Is there no ass-eared old periwig, no\ndunderhead forthcoming, to restore the concern to its former disabled\ncondition? I shall certainly do my best in the matter. To-morrow I\nintend to hire a carriage for the day, and visit all the hospitals and\ninfirmaries, to see if I can't find a Capellmeister in one of them. Why\nwere they so improvident as to allow Misliweczeck to give them the slip,\nand he so near too? [See No. 64.] He would have been a prize, and one\nnot so easy to replace,--freshly emerged, too, from the Duke's Clementi\nConservatorio. He was just the man to have awed the whole court\norchestra by his presence. Well, we need not be uneasy: where there is\nmoney there are always plenty of people to be had. My opinion is that\nthey should not wait too long, not from the foolish fear that they might\nnot get one at all,--for I am well aware that all these gentlemen\nare expecting one as eagerly and anxiously as the Jews do their\nMessiah,--but simply because things cannot go on at all under such\ncircumstances. It would therefore be more useful and profitable to look\nout for a Capellmeister, there being NONE at present, than to write in\nall directions (as I have been told) to secure a good female singer.\n\n[FOOTNOTE: In order the better to conciliate Wolfgang, Bullinger had\nbeen desired to say that the Archbishop, no longer satisfied with\nMadlle. Haydn, intended to engage another singer; and it was hinted to\nMozart, that he might be induced to make choice of Aloysia Weber; (Jahn,\nii. 307.) Madlle. Haydn was a daughter of Lipp, the organist, and sent\nby the Archbishop to Italy to cultivate her voice. She did not enjoy a\nvery good reputation.]\n\nI really can scarcely believe this. Another female singer, when we have\nalready so many, and all admirable! A tenor, though we do not require\none either, I could more easily understand--but a prima donna, when we\nhave still Cecarelli! It is true that Madlle. Haydn is in bad health,\nfor her austere mode of life has been carried too far. There are few\nof whom this can be said. I wonder that she has not long since lost her\nvoice from her perpetual scourgings and flagellations, her hair-cloth,\nunnatural fasts, and night-prayers! But she will still long retain her\npowers, and instead of becoming worse, her voice will daily improve.\nWhen at last, however, she departs this life to be numbered among the\nsaints, we still have five left, each of whom can dispute the palm with\nthe other. So you see how superfluous a new one is. But, knowing how\nmuch changes and novelty and variety are liked with us, I see a wide\nfield before me which may yet form an epoch. [FOOTNOTE: Archbishop\nHieronymus, in the true spirit of Frederick the Great, liked to\nintroduce innovations with an unsparing hand; many, however, being both\nnecessary and beneficent.] Do your best that the orchestra may have a\nleg to stand on, for that is what is most wanted. A head they have [the\nArchbishop], but that is just the misfortune; and till a change is made\nin this respect, I will never come to Salzburg. When it does take place,\nI am willing to come and to turn over the leaf as often as I see V. S.\n[volti subito] written. Now as to the war [the Bavarian Succession]. So\nfar as I hear, we shall soon have peace in Germany. The King of Prussia\nis certainly rather alarmed. I read in the papers that the Prussians had\nsurprised an Imperial detachment, but that the Croats and two Cuirassier\nregiments were near, and, hearing the tumult, came at once to their\nrescue, and attacked the Prussians, placing them between two fires, and\ncapturing five of their cannon. The route by which the Prussians entered\nBohemia is now entirely cut up and destroyed. The Bohemian peasantry do\nall the mischief they can to the Prussians, who have besides constant\ndesertions among their troops; but these are matters which you must know\nboth sooner and better than we do. But I must write you some of our news\nhere. The French have forced the English to retreat, but it was not a\nvery hot affair. The most remarkable thing is that, friends and foes\nincluded, only 100 men were killed. In spite of this, there is a grand\njubilation here, and nothing else is talked of. It is also reported that\nwe shall soon have peace. It is a matter of indifference to me, so far\nas this place is concerned; but I should indeed be very glad if we were\nsoon to have peace in Germany, for many reasons. Now farewell! Your true\nfriend and obedient servant,\n\nWOLFGANG ROMATZ.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 113",
    "body": "Paris, Sept. 11, 1778.\n\nI HAVE received your three letters. I shall only reply to the last,\nbeing the most important. When I read it, (Heina was with me and sends\nyou his regards,) I trembled with joy, for I fancied myself already in\nyour arms. True it is (and this you will yourself confess) that no\ngreat stroke of good fortune awaits me; still, when I think of once more\nembracing you and my dear sister, I care for no other advantage. This is\nindeed the only excuse I can make to the people here, who are vociferous\nthat I should remain in Paris; but my reply invariably is, \"What would\nyou have? I am content, and that is everything; I have now a place I can\ncall my home, and where I can live in peace and quiet with my excellent\nfather and beloved sister. I can do what I choose when not on duty. I\nshall be my own master, and have a certain competency; I may leave when\nI like, and travel every second year. What can I wish for more?\" The\nonly thing that disgusts me with Salzburg, and I tell you of it just as\nI feel it, is the impossibility of having any satisfactory intercourse\nwith the people, and that musicians are not in good repute there,\nand--that the Archbishop places no faith in the experience of\nintelligent persons who have seen the world. For I assure you that\npeople who do not travel (especially artists and scientific men) are but\npoor creatures. And I at once say that if the Archbishop is not prepared\nto allow me to travel every second year, I cannot possibly accept the\nengagement. A man of moderate talent will never rise above mediocrity,\nwhether he travels or not, but a man of superior talents (which,\nwithout being unthankful to Providence, I cannot deny that I possess)\ndeteriorates if he always remains in the same place. If the Archbishop\nwould only place confidence in me, I could soon make his music\ncelebrated; of this there can be no doubt. I also maintain that\nmy journey has not been unprofitable to me--I mean, with regard to\ncomposition, for as to the piano, I play it as well as I ever shall. One\nthing more I must settle about Salzburg, that I am not to take up the\nviolin as I formerly did. I will no longer conduct with the violin; I\nintend to conduct, and also accompany airs, with the piano. It would\nhave been a good thing to have got a written agreement about the\nsituation of Capellmeister, for otherwise I may have the honor to\ndischarge a double duty, and be paid only for one, and at last be\nsuperseded by some stranger. My dear father, I must decidedly say that\nI really could not make up my mind to take this step were it not for the\npleasure of seeing you both again; I wish also to get away from Paris,\nwhich I detest, though my affairs here begin to improve, and I don't\ndoubt that if I could bring myself to endure this place for a few years,\nI could not fail to succeed. I am now pretty well known--that is, the\npeople all know ME, even if I don't know them. I acquired considerable\nfame by my two symphonies; and (having heard that I was about to leave)\nthey now really want me to write an opera, so I said to Noverre, \"If you\nwill be responsible for its BEING PERFORMED as soon as it is finished,\nand will name the exact sum that I am to receive for it, I will remain\nhere for the next three months on purpose,\" for I could not at once\ndecline, or they would have thought that I distrusted myself. This was\nnot, however, done; and I knew beforehand that they could not do it,\nfor such is not the custom here. You probably know that in Paris it is\nthus:--When the opera is finished it is rehearsed, and if these stupid\nFrenchmen do not think it good it is not given, and the composer has\nhad all his trouble for nothing; if they approve, it is then put on the\nstage; as its popularity increases, so does the rate of payment. There\nis no certainty. I reserve the discussion of these matters till we meet,\nbut I must candidly say that my own affairs begin to prosper. It is no\nuse trying to hurry matters--chi va piano, va sano. My complaisance has\ngained me both friends and patrons; were I to write you all, my fingers\nwould ache. I will relate it to you personally and place it clearly\nbefore you. M. Grimm may be able to help CHILDREN, but not grown-up\npeople; and--but no, I had better not write on the subject. Yet I must!\nDo not imagine that he is the same that he was; were it not for Madame\nd'Epinay, I should be no longer in this house. And he has no great cause\nto be so proud of his good deeds towards me, for there were four houses\nwhere I could have had both board and lodging. The worthy man does not\nknow that, if I had remained in Paris, I intended to have left him next\nmonth to go to a house that, unlike his, is neither stupid nor tiresome,\nand where a man has not constantly thrown in his face that a kindness\nhas been done him. Such conduct is enough to cause me to forget a\nbenefit, but I will be more generous than he is. I regret not remaining\nhere only because I should have liked to show him that I do not require\nhim, and that I can do as much as his Piccini, although I am only\na German! The greatest service he has done me consists in fifteen\nlouis-d'or which he lent me bit by bit during my mother's life and\nat her death. Is he afraid of losing them? If he has a doubt on the\nsubject, then he deserves to be kicked, for in that case he must\nmistrust my honesty (which is the only thing that can rouse me to rage)\nand also my talents; but the latter, indeed, I know he does, for he once\nsaid to me that he did not believe I was capable of writing a French\nopera. I mean to repay him his fifteen louis-d'or, with thanks, when I\ngo to take leave of him, accompanied by some polite expressions. My poor\nmother often said to me, \"I don't know why, but he seems to me somehow\nchanged.\" But I always took his part, though I secretly felt convinced\nof the very same thing. He seldom spoke of me to any one, and when he\ndid, it was always in a stupid, injudicious, or disparaging way. He\nwas constantly urging me to go to see Piccini, and also Caribaldi,--for\nthere is a miserable opera buffa here,--but I always said, \"No, I will\nnot go a single step,\" &c. In short, he is of the Italian faction; he is\ninsincere himself, and strives to crush me. This seems incredible, does\nit not? But still such is the fact, and I give you the proof of it. I\nopened my whole heart to him as a true friend, and a pretty use he made\nof this! He always gave me bad advice, knowing that I would follow it;\nbut he only succeeded in two or three instances, and latterly I never\nasked his opinion at all, and if he did advise me to do anything, I\nnever did it, but always appeared to acquiesce, that I might not subject\nmyself to further insolence on his part.\n\nBut enough of this; we can talk it over when we meet. At all events,\nMadame d'Epinay has a better heart. The room I inhabit belongs to her,\nnot to him. It is the invalid's room--that is, if any one is ill in\nthe house, he is put there; it has nothing to recommend it except the\nview,--only four bare walls, no chest of drawers--in fact, nothing. Now\nyou may judge whether I could stand it any longer. I would have written\nthis to you long ago, but feared you would not believe me. I can,\nhowever, no longer be silent, whether you believe me or not; but you\ndo believe me, I feel sure. I have still sufficient credit with you to\npersuade you that I speak the truth. I board too with Madame d'Epinay,\nand you must not suppose that he pays anything towards it, but indeed I\ncost her next to nothing. They have the same dinner whether I am there\nor not, for they never know when I am to be at home, so they can make no\ndifference for me; and at night I eat fruit and drink one glass of wine.\nAll the time I have been in their house, now more than two months, I\nhave not dined with them more than fourteen times at most, and with the\nexception of the fifteen louis-d'or, which I mean to repay with thanks,\nhe has no outlay whatever on my account but candles, and I should really\nbe ashamed of myself more than of him, were I to offer to supply these;\nin fact I could not bring myself to say such a thing. This is my nature.\nRecently, when he spoke to me in such a hard, senseless, and stupid way,\nI had not nerve to say that he need not be alarmed about his fifteen\nlouis-d'or, because I was afraid of offending him; I only heard him\ncalmly to the end, when I asked whether he had said all he wished--and\nthen I was off! He presumes to say that I must leave this a week\nhence--IN SUCH HASTE IS HE. I told him it was impossible, and my reasons\nfor saying so. \"Oh! that does not matter; it is your father's wish.\"\n\"Excuse me, in his last letter he wrote that he would let me know in his\nnext when I was to set off.\" \"At all events hold yourself in readiness\nfor your journey.\" But I must tell you plainly that it will be\nimpossible for me to leave this before the beginning of next month, or\nat the soonest the end of the present one, for I have still six arias to\nwrite, which will be well paid. I must also first get my money from Le\nGros and the Duc de Guines; and as the court goes to Munich the end of\nthis month, I should like to be there at the same time to present my\nsonatas myself to the Electress, which perhaps might bring me a present.\nI mean to sell my three concertos to the man who has printed them,\nprovided he gives me ready money for them; one is dedicated to Jenomy,\nanother to Litzau; the third is in B. I shall do the same with my\nsix difficult sonatas, if I can; even if not much, it is better than\nnothing. Money is much wanted on a journey. As for the symphonies, most\nof them are not according to the taste of the people here; if I have\ntime, I mean to arrange some violin concertos from them, and curtail\nthem; in Germany we rather like length, but after all it is better to be\nshort and good. In your next letter I shall no doubt find instructions\nas to my journey; I only wish you had written to me alone, for I would\nrather have nothing more to do with Grimm. I hope so, and in fact it\nwould be better, for no doubt our friends Geschwender and Heina can\narrange things better than this upstart Baron. Indeed, I am under\ngreater obligations to Heina than to him, look at it as you will by the\nlight of a farthing-candle. I expect a speedy reply to this, and shall\nnot leave Paris till it comes. I have no reason to hurry away, nor am I\nhere either in vain or fruitlessly, because I shut myself up and work,\nin order to make as much money as possible. I have still a request,\nwhich I hope you will not refuse. If it should so happen, though I hope\nand believe it is not so, that the Webers are not in Munich, but still\nat Mannheim, I wish to have the pleasure of going there to visit them.\nIt takes me, I own, rather out of my way, but not much--at all events it\ndoes not appear much to me. I don't believe, after all, that it will\nbe necessary, for I think I shall meet them in Munich; but I shall\nascertain this to-morrow by a letter. If it is not the case, I feel\nbeforehand that you will not deny me this happiness. My dear father, if\nthe Archbishop wishes to have a new singer, I can, by heavens! find none\nbetter than her. He will never get a Teyberin or a De' Amicis, and the\nothers are assuredly worse. I only lament that when people from Salzburg\nflock to the next Carnival, and \"Rosamunde\" is given, Madlle. Weber\nwill not please, or at all events they will not be able to judge of her\nmerits as they deserve, for she has a miserable part, almost that of a\ndumb personage, having only to sing some stanzas between the choruses.\nShe has one aria where something might be expected from the ritournelle;\nthe voice part is, however, alla Schweitzer, as if dogs were yelping.\nThere is only one air, a kind of rondo in the second act, where she has\nan opportunity of sustaining her voice, and thus showing what she can\ndo. Unhappy indeed is the singer who falls into Schweitzer's hands; for\nnever while he lives will he learn how to write for the voice. When I\ngo to Salzburg I shall certainly not fail to plead zealously for my dear\nfriend; in the mean time you will not neglect doing all you can in her\nfavor, for you cannot cause your son greater joy. I think of nothing\nnow but the pleasure of soon embracing you. Pray see that everything\nthe Archbishop promised you is made quite secure, and also what I\nstipulated, that my place should be at the piano. My kind regards to all\nmy friends, and to Herr Bullinger in particular. How merry shall we\nbe together! I have all this already in my thoughts, already before my\neyes. Adieu!",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 115",
    "body": "Strassburg, Oct. 15, 1778.\n\nI GOT your three letters safely, but could not possibly answer them\nsooner. What you write about M. Grimm, I, of course, know better than\nyou can do. That he was all courtesy and civility I do not deny; indeed,\nhad this not been the case, I would not have stood on such ceremony\nwith him. All that I owe M. Grimm is fifteen louis-d'or, and he has only\nhimself to blame for their not being repaid, and this I told him. But\nwhat avails any discussion? We can talk it over at Salzburg. I am very\nmuch obliged to you for having put my case so strongly before Father\nMartini, and also for having written about me to M. Raaff. I never\ndoubted your doing so, for I am well aware that it rejoices you to see\nyour son happy and pleased, and you know that I could never be more so\nthan in Munich; being so near Salzburg, I could constantly visit you.\nThat Madlle. Weber, or rather MY DEAR WEBERIN, should now receive a\nsalary, and justice be at last done to her merits, rejoices me to a\ndegree natural in one who feels such deep interest in all that concerns\nher. I still warmly recommend her to you; though I must now, alas! give\nup all hope of what I so much wished,--her getting an engagement in\nSalzburg,--for the Archbishop would never give her the salary she now\nhas. All we can now hope for is that she may sometimes come to Salzburg\nto sing in an opera. I had a hurried letter from her father the day\nbefore they went to Munich, in which he also mentions this news. These\npoor people were in the greatest distress about me, fearing that I must\nbe dead, a whole month having elapsed without any letter from me, (owing\nto the last one being lost;) an idea that was confirmed by a report in\nMannheim that my poor dear mother had died of a contagious disease. So\nthey have been all praying for my soul. The poor girl went every day for\nthis purpose into the Capuchin church. Perhaps you may laugh at this? I\ndid not; on the contrary, I could not help being much touched by it.\n\nTo proceed. I think I shall certainly go by Stuttgart to Augsburg,\nbecause I see by your letter that nothing, or at least not much, is to\nbe made in Donaueschingen; but I will apprise you of all this before\nleaving Strassburg. Dearest father, I do assure you that, were it not\nfor the pleasure of soon embracing you, I would never come to Salzburg;\nfor, with the exception of this commendable and delightful impulse, I\nam really committing the greatest folly in the world. Rest assured\nthat these are my own thoughts, and not borrowed from others. When my\nresolution to leave Paris was known, certain facts were placed before\nme, and the sole weapons I had to contend against or to conquer these,\nwere my true and tender love for my kind father, which could not be\notherwise than laudable in their eyes, but with the remark that if my\nfather had known my present circumstances and fair prospects, (and had\nnot got different and false impressions by means of a kind friend,) he\ncertainly would not have written to me in such a strain as to render me\nwholly incapable of offering the least resistance to his wish; and in my\nown mind I thought, that had I not been exposed to so much annoyance\nin the house where I lived, and the journey come on me like a sudden\nthunder-clap, leaving me no time to reflect coolly on the subject, I\nshould have earnestly besought you to have patience for a time, and to\nlet me remain a little longer in Paris. I do assure you that I should\nhave succeeded in gaining fame, honor, and wealth, and been thus enabled\nto defray your debts. But now it is settled, and do not for a moment\nsuppose that I regret it; but you alone, dearest father, you alone can\nsweeten the bitterness of Salzburg for me; and that you will do so,\nI feel convinced. I must also candidly say that I should arrive in\nSalzburg with a lighter heart were it not for my official capacity\nthere, for this thought is to me the most intolerable of all. Reflect on\nit yourself, place yourself in my position. At Salzburg I never know how\nI stand; at one time I am everything, at another absolutely nothing.\nI neither desire SO MUCH nor SO LITTLE, but still I wish to be\nSOMETHING--if indeed I am something! In every other place I know what my\nduties are. Elsewhere those who undertake the violin stick to it,--the\nsame with the piano, &c., &c. I trust this will be regulated hereafter,\nso that all may turn out well and for my happiness and satisfaction. I\nrely wholly on you.\n\nThings here are in a poor state; but the day after to-morrow, Saturday\nthe 17th, I MYSELF ALONE, (to save expense,) to please some kind\nfriends, amateurs, and connoisseurs, intend to give a subscription\nconcert. If I engaged an orchestra, it would with the lighting cost me\nmore than three louis-d'or, and who knows whether we shall get as\nmuch? My sonatas are not yet published, though promised for the end of\nSeptember. Such is the effect of not looking after things yourself, for\nwhich that obstinate Grimm is also to blame. They will probably be full\nof mistakes, not being able to revise them myself, for I was obliged\nto devolve the task on another, and I shall be without my sonatas in\nMunich. Such an occurrence, though apparently a trifle, may often bring\nsuccess, honor, and wealth, or, on the other hand, misfortune.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 116",
    "body": "Strassburg, Oct. 20, 1778.\n\nYou will perceive that I am still here, by the advice of Herr Frank and\nother Strassburg magnates, but I leave this to-morrow. In my last\nletter I mentioned that on the 17th I was to give a kind of sample of\na concert, as concerts here fare worse than even at Salzburg. It is, of\ncourse, over. I played quite alone, having engaged no musicians, so that\nI might at least lose nothing; briefly, I took three louis-d'or. The\nchief receipts consisted in the shouts of Bravo! and Bravissimo! which\nechoed on every side. Prince Max of Zweibrucken also honored the concert\nby his presence. I need not tell you that every one was pleased. I\nintended then to pursue my journey, but was advised to stay till the\nfollowing Saturday, in order to give a grand concert in the theatre.\nI did so, and, to the surprise, indignation, and disgrace of all the\nStrassburgers, my receipts were exactly the same. The Director, M. de\nVilleneuve, abused the inhabitants of this most detestable town in the\nmost unmeasured terms. I took a little more money, certainly, but\nthe cost of the band (which is very bad, but its pay very good), the\nlighting, printing, the guard at the door, and the check-takers at the\nentrances, &c., made up a considerable sum. Still I must tell you that\nthe applause and clapping of hands almost deafened me, and made my ears\nache; it was as if the whole theatre had gone crazy. Those who were\npresent, loudly and publicly denounced their fellow-citizens, and I told\nthem all that if I could have reasonably supposed so few people would\nhave come, I would gladly have given the concert gratis, merely for the\npleasure of seeing the theatre well filled. And in truth I should have\npreferred it, for, upon my word, I don't know a more desolate sight than\na long table laid for fifty, and only three at dinner. Besides, it was\nso cold; but I soon warmed myself, for, to show the Strassburg gentlemen\nhow little I cared, I played a very long time for my own amusement,\ngiving a concerto more than I had promised, and, at the close,\nextemporizing. It is now over, but at all events I gained honor and\nfame.\n\nI have drawn on Herr Scherz for eight louis-d'or, as a precaution, for\nno one can tell what may happen on a journey; and I HAVE is better than\nI MIGHT HAVE HAD. I have read the fatherly well-meaning letter which you\nwrote to M. Frank when in such anxiety about me. [Footnote: \"Your sister\nand I confessed, and took the Holy Communion,\" writes the father, \"and\nprayed to God fervently for your recovery. Our excellent Bullinger\nprays daily for you also.\"] When I wrote to you from Nancy, not knowing\nmyself, you of course could not know, that I should have to wait so\nlong for a good opportunity. Your mind may be quite at ease about the\nmerchant with whom I am travelling; he is the most upright man in the\nworld, takes more care of me than of himself, and, entirely to oblige\nme, is to go with me to Augsburg and Munich, and possibly even to\nSalzburg. We actually shed tears when we think that we must separate. He\nis not a learned man, but a man of experience, and we live together\nlike children. When he thinks of his wife and family whom he has left in\nParis, I try to comfort him, and when I think of my own people he speaks\ncomfort to me.\n\nOn the 31st of October, my name-day, I amused myself (and, better still,\nothers) for a couple of hours. At the repeated entreaties of Herr Frank,\nde Berger, &c., &c., I gave another concert, by which, after paying the\nexpenses, (not heavy this time,) I actually cleared a louis-d'or! Now\nyou see what Strassburg is! I wrote at the beginning of this letter that\nI was to leave this on the 27th or 28th, but it proved impossible, owing\nto a sudden inundation here, when the floods caused great damage. You\nwill probably see this in the papers. Of course travelling was out of\nthe question, which was the only thing that induced me to consent to\ngive another concert, being obliged to remain at all events.\n\nTo-morrow I go by the diligence to Mannheim. Do not be startled at this.\nIn foreign countries it is expedient to follow the advice of those who\nknow from experience what ought to be done. Most of the strangers who\ngo to Stuttgart (N.B., by the diligence) do not object to this detour of\neight hours, because the road is better and also the conveyance. I\nmust now, dearest father, cordially wish you joy of your approaching\nname-day. My kind father, I wish you from my heart all that a son can\nwish for a good father, whom he so highly esteems and dearly loves. I\nthank the Almighty that He has permitted you again to pass this day in\nthe enjoyment of perfect health, and implore from Him the boon, that\nduring the whole of my life (and I hope to live for a good many years to\ncome) I may be able to congratulate you every year. However strange,\nand perhaps ridiculous, this wish may seem to you, I do assure you it is\nboth sincere and well-intended.\n\nI hope you received my last letter from Strassburg. I wish to write\nnothing further of M. Grimm, but it is entirely owing to his stupidity\nin pressing forward my departure so much, that my sonatas are not yet\nengraved, or at all events that I have not got them, and when I do I\nshall probably find them full of mistakes. If I had only stayed three\ndays longer in Paris, I could have revised them myself and brought them\nwith me. The engraver was desperate when I told him that I could not\ncorrect them, but must commission someone else to do so. Why? Because,\nbeing resolved not to be three days longer in the same house with Grimm,\nI told him that on account of the sonatas I was going to stay with Count\nSickingen, when he replied, his eyes sparkling with rage, \"If you leave\nmy house before you leave Paris, I will never in my life see you again.\nIn that case do not presume ever to come near me, and look on me as your\nbitterest enemy.\" Self-control was indeed very necessary. Had it not\nbeen for your sake, who knew nothing about the matter, I certainly\nshould have replied, \"Be my enemy; by all means be so. You are so\nalready, or you would not have prevented me putting my affairs in order\nhere, which would have enabled me to keep my word, to preserve my honor\nand reputation, and also to make money, and probably a lucky hit; for if\nI present my sonatas to the Electress when I go to Munich, I shall\nthus keep my promise, probably receive a present, and make my fortune\nbesides.\" But as it was, I only bowed, and left the room without saying\na syllable. Before quitting Paris, however, I said all this to him,\nbut he answered me like a man totally devoid of sense, or rather like\na malicious man who affects to have none. I have written twice to Herr\nHeina, but have got no answer. The sonatas ought to have appeared by the\nend of September, and M. Grimm was to have forwarded the promised copies\nimmediately to me, so I expected to have found them in Strassburg; but\nM. Grimm writes to me that he neither hears nor sees anything of them,\nbut as soon as he does they are to be forwarded, and I hope to have them\nere long.\n\nStrassburg can scarcely do without me. You cannot think how much I am\nesteemed and beloved here. People say that I am disinterested as well as\nsteady and polite, and praise my manners. Every one knows me. As soon\nas they heard my name, the two Herrn Silbermann and Herr Hepp (organist)\ncame to call on me, and also Capellmeister Richter. He has now\nrestricted himself very much; instead of forty bottles of wine a day,\nhe only drinks twenty! I played publicly on the two best organs that\nSilbermann has here, in the Lutheran and New Churches, and in the Thomas\nChurch. If the Cardinal had died, (and he was very ill when I arrived,)\nI might have got a good situation, for Herr Richter is seventy-eight\nyears of age. Now farewell! Be cheerful and in good spirits, and\nremember that your son is, thank God! well, and rejoicing that his\nhappiness daily draws nearer. Last Sunday I heard a new mass of Herr\nRichter's, which is charmingly written.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 117",
    "body": "Mannheim, November 12, 1778.\n\nI arrived here safely on the 6th, agreeably surprising all my kind\nfriends. God be praised that I am once more in my beloved Mannheim!\nI assure you, if you were here you would say the same. I am living at\nMadame Cannabich's, who, as well as her family and all my good friends\nhere, was quite beside herself with joy at seeing me again. We have not\nyet done talking, for she tells me of all the events and changes that\nhave taken place during my absence. I have not been able to dine once at\nhome since I came, for people are fighting to have me; in a word, just\nas I love Mannheim, so Mannheim loves me; and, though of course I don't\nknow it positively, still I do think it possible that I may get an\nappointment here. But HERE, not in Munich, for my own belief is that the\nElector will soon once more take up his residence in Mannheim, for he\nsurely cannot long submit to the coarseness of the Bavarian gentlemen.\nYou know that the Mannheim company is in Munich. There they hissed the\ntwo best actresses, Madame Toscani and Madame Urban. There was such\nan uproar that the Elector himself leant over his box and called out,\n\"Hush!\" To this, however, no one paid any attention; so he sent down\nCount Seeau, who told some of the officers not to make such a noise, as\nthe Elector did not like it; but the only answer he got was, that they\nhad paid their money, and no man had a right to give them any orders.\nBut what a simpleton I am! You no doubt have heard this long ago through\nour....\n\nI have now something to say. I may PERHAPS make forty louis-d'or here.\nTo be sure, I should have to stay six weeks, or at most two months, in\nMannheim. Seiler's company is here, whom you no doubt already know by\nreputation. Herr von Dalberg is the director. He will not hear of my\nleaving this till I have written a duodrama for him, and indeed I did\nnot long hesitate, for I have often wished to write this style of drama.\nI forget if I wrote to you about it the first time that I was here.\nTwice at that time I saw a similar piece performed, which afforded me\nthe greatest pleasure; in fact, nothing ever surprised me so much, for\nI had always imagined that a thing of this kind would make no effect. Of\ncourse you know that there is no singing in it, but merely recitation,\nto which the music is a sort of obligato recitativo. At intervals there\nis speaking while the music goes on, which produces the most striking\neffect. What I saw was Benda's \"Medea.\" He also wrote another, \"Ariadne\nauf Naxos,\" and both are truly admirable. You are aware that of all the\nLutheran Capellmeisters Benda was always my favorite, and I like those\ntwo works of his so much that I constantly carry them about with me.\nConceive my joy at now composing the very thing I so much wished! Do you\nknow what my idea is?--that most operatic recitatives should be treated\nin this way, and the recitative only occasionally sung WHEN THE WORDS\nCAN BE THOROUGHLY EXPRESSED BY THE MUSIC. An Academie des Amateurs is\nabout to be established here, like the one in Paris, where Herr Franzl\nis violin leader, and I am at this moment writing a concerto for violin\nand piano. I found my dear friend Raaff still here, but he leaves this\non the 8th. He has sounded my praises here, and shown sincere interest\nin me, and I hope he will do the same in Munich. Do you know what that\nconfounded fellow Seeau said here?--that my opera buffa had been hissed\nat Munich! Fortunately he said so in a place where I am well known;\nstill, his audacity provokes me; but the people, when they go to Munich,\nwill hear the exact reverse. A whole flock of Bavarians are here, among\nothers Fraulein de Pauli (for I don't know her present name). I\nhave been to see her because she sent for me immediately. Oh! what a\ndifference there is between the people of the Palatinate and those\nof Bavaria! What a language it is! so coarse! and their whole mode of\naddress! It quite annoys me to hear once more their hoben and olles\n(haben and alles), and their WORSHIPFUL SIR. Now good-bye! and pray\nwrite to me soon. Put only my name, for they know where I am at the\npost-office. I am so well known here that it is impossible a letter for\nme can be lost. My cousin wrote to me, and by mistake put Franconian\nHotel instead of Palatine Hotel. The landlord immediately sent the\nletter to M. Serrarius's, where I lodged when I was last here. What\nrejoices me most of all in the whole Mannheim and Munich story is that\nWeber has managed his affairs so well. They have now 1600 florins;\nfor the daughter has 1000 florins and her father 400, and 200 more as\nprompter. Cannabich did the most for them. It is quite a history about\nCount Seeau; if you don't know it, I will write you the details next\ntime.\n\nI beg, dearest father, that you will make use of this affair at\nSalzburg, and speak so strongly and so decidedly, that the Archbishop\nmay think it possible I may not come after all, and thus be induced\nto give me a better salary, for I declare I cannot think of it with\ncomposure. The Archbishop cannot pay me sufficiently for the slavery of\nSalzburg. As I said before, I feel the greatest pleasure at the thought\nof paying you a visit, but only annoyance and misery in seeing myself\nonce more at that beggarly court. The Archbishop must no longer attempt\nto play the great man with me as he used to do, or I may possibly play\nhim a trick,--this is by no means unlikely,--and I am sure that you\nwould participate in my satisfaction.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 122",
    "body": "Munich, Dec. 29, 1778.\n\nI WRITE from the house of M. Becke [flute-player; see No. 60]. I arrived\nhere safely, God be praised! on the 25th, but have been unable to write\nto you till now. I reserve everything till our glad, joyous meeting,\nwhen I can once more have the happiness of conversing with you, for\nto-day I can only weep. I have far too sensitive a heart. In the mean\ntime, I must tell you that the day before I left Kaisersheim I received\nthe sonatas; so I shall be able to present them myself to the Electress.\nI only delay leaving this till the opera [Footnote: Schweitzer's\n\"Alceste.\" (See No. 120.)] is given, when I intend immediately to leave\nMunich, unless I were to find that it would be very beneficial and\nuseful to me to remain here for some time longer. In which case I feel\nconvinced, quite convinced, that you would not only be satisfied I\nshould do so, but would yourself advise it. I naturally write very\nbadly, for I never learned to write; still, in my whole life I never\nwrote worse than this very day, for I really am unfit for anything--my\nheart is too full of tears. I hope you will soon write to me and comfort\nme. Address to me, Poste Restante, and then I can fetch the letter\nmyself. I am staying with the Webers. I think, after all, it would be\nbetter, far better, to enclose your letter to me to our friend Becke.\n\nI intend (I mention it to you in the strictest secrecy) to write a mass\nhere; all my best friends advise my doing so. I cannot tell you what\nfriends Cannabich and Raaff have been to me. Now farewell, my kindest\nand most beloved father! Write to me soon.\n\nA happy new-year! More I cannot bring myself to write to-day. This\nletter is scrawled hurriedly, quite unlike the others, and betrays\nthe most violent agitation of mind. During the whole journey there was\nnothing to which Mozart looked forward with such joy as once more seeing\nhis beloved Madlle. Weber in Munich. He had even destined \"a great part\"\nfor the Basle (his cousin) in the affair; but he was now to learn that\nAloysia had been faithless to him. Nissen relates: \"Mozart, being in\nmourning for his mother, appeared dressed, according to the French\ncustom, in a red coat with black buttons; but soon discovered that\nAloysia's feelings towards him had undergone a change. She seemed\nscarcely to recognize one for whose sake she had once shed so many\ntears. On which Mozart quickly seated himself at the piano and sang,\n\"Ich lass das Madel gern das mich nicht will,\" [\"I gladly give up the\ngirl who slights me.\"] His father, moreover, was displeased in the\nhighest degree by Wolfgang's protracted absence, fearing that the\nArchbishop might recall his appointment; so Wolfgang became very uneasy\nlest he should not meet with a kind reception from his father on his\nreturn home.\"",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 123",
    "body": "Munich, Dec. 31, 1778.\n\nI HAVE this instant received your latter from my friend Becke. I wrote\nto you from his house two days ago, but a letter such as I never wrote\nbefore; for this kind friend said so much to me about your tender\npaternal love, your indulgence towards me, your complaisance and\ndiscretion in the promotion of my future happiness, that my feelings\nwere softened even to tears. But, from your letter of the 28th, I see\nonly too clearly that Herr Becke, in his conversation with me, rather\nexaggerated. Now, distinctly, and once for all, as soon as the opera\n(\"Alceste\") is given, I intend to leave this, whether the diligence goes\nthe day after or the same night. If you had spoken to Madame Robinig, I\nmight have travelled home with her. But be that as it may, the opera is\nto be given on the 11th, and on the 12th (if the diligence goes) I set\noff. It would be more for my interest to stay here a little longer, but\nI am willing to sacrifice this to you, in the hope that I shall have\na twofold reward for it in Salzburg. I don't think your idea about the\nsonatas at all good; even if I do not get them, I ought to leave Munich\nforthwith. Then you advise my not being seen at court; to a man so well\nknown as I am here such a thing is impossible. But do not be uneasy. I\nreceived my sonatas at Kaisersheim; and, as soon as they are bound, I\nmean to present them to the Electress. A. propos, what do you mean by\nDREAMS OF PLEASURE? I do not wish to give up dreaming, for what mortal\non the whole compass of the earth does not often dream? above all DREAMS\nOF PLEASURE--peaceful dreams, sweet, cheering dreams if you will--dreams\nwhich, if realized, would have rendered my life (now far rather sad than\npleasurable) more endurable.\n\nThe 1st.--I have this moment received, through a Salzburg vetturino, a\nletter from you, which really at first quite startled me. For Heaven's\nsake tell me, do you really think that I can at once fix a day for my\njourney; or is it your belief that I don't mean to come at all? When I\nam so very near, I do think you might be at ease on that point. When the\nfellow had explained his route to me, I felt a strong inclination to go\nwith him, but at present I really cannot; to-morrow or next day I\nintend to present the sonatas to the Electress, and then (no matter how\nstrongly I may be urged) I must wait a few days for a present. Of one\nthing I give you my word, that to please you I have resolved not to wait\nto see the opera, but intend to leave this the day after I receive the\npresent I expect. At the same time I confess I feel this to be very hard\non me; but if a few days more or less appear of such importance to you,\nso let it be. Write to me at once on this point. The 2d.--I rejoice at\nthe thoughts of conversing with you, for then you will first comprehend\nhow my matters stand here. You need have neither mistrust nor misgivings\nas to Raaff, for he is the most upright man in the world, though no\nlover of letter-writing. The chief cause of his silence, however, is no\ndoubt that he is unwilling to make premature promises, and yet is glad\nto hold out some hope too; besides, like Cannabich, he has worked for me\nwith might and main.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 124",
    "body": "Munich, Jan. 8, 1779.\n\n[Footnote: The second grand aria that Mozart wrote for Aloysia, bears\nthe same date.]\n\nI HOPE you received my last letter, which I meant to have given to the\nvetturino, but having missed him I sent it by post. I have, in the mean\ntime, got all your letters safely through Herr Becke. I gave him my\nletter to read, and he also showed me his. I assure you, my very dear\nfather, that I am now full of joy at returning to you, (but not to\nSalzburg,) as your last letter shows that you know me better than\nformerly. There never was any other cause for my long delay in going\nhome but this doubt, which gave rise to a feeling of sadness that I\ncould no longer conceal; so I at last opened my heart to my friend\nBecke. What other cause could I possibly have? I have done nothing to\ncause me to dread reproach from you; I am guilty of no fault; (by\na fault I mean that which does not become a Christian, and a man of\nhonor;) in short, I now rejoice, and already look forward to the most\nagreeable and happy days, but only in the society of yourself and my\ndear sister. I give you my solemn word of honor that I cannot endure\nSalzburg or its inhabitants, (I speak of the natives of Salzburg.) Their\nlanguage, their manners, are to me quite intolerable. You cannot think\nwhat I suffered during Madame Robinig's visit here, for it is long\nindeed since I met with such a fool; and, for my still further\nannoyance, that silly, deadly dull Mosmayer was also there.\n\nBut to proceed. I went yesterday, with my dear friend Cannabich, to\nthe Electress to present my sonatas. Her apartments are exactly what I\nshould like mine one day to be, very pretty and neat, just like those of\na private individual, all except the view, which is miserable. We\nwere there fully an hour and a half, and she was very gracious. I have\nmanaged to let her know that I must leave this in a few days, which\nwill, I hope, expedite matters. You have no cause to be uneasy about\nCount Seeau; I don't believe the thing will come through his hands, and\neven if it does, he will not venture to say a word. Now, once for all,\nbelieve that I have the most eager longing to embrace you and my beloved\nsister. If it were only not in Salzburg! But as I have not hitherto been\nable to see you without going to Salzburg, I do so gladly. I must make\nhaste, for the post is just going.\n\nMy cousin is here. Why? To please me, her cousin; this is, indeed, the\nostensible cause. But--we can talk about it in Salzburg; and, on this\naccount, I wished very much that she would come with me there. You will\nfind a few lines, written by her own hand, attached to the fourth page\nof this letter. She is quite willing to go; so if it would really give\nyou pleasure to see her, be so kind as to write immediately to her\nbrother, that the thing may be arranged. When you see her and know her,\nshe is certain to please you, for she is a favorite with every one.\n\nWolfgang's pleasantries, in the following; letter to his cousin, show\nthat his good humor was fully restored. He was received at home with\nvery great rejoicings, and his cousin soon followed him.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 125",
    "body": "Salzburg, May 10, 1779.\n\nDEAREST, sweetest, most beauteous, fascinating, and charming of all\ncousins, most basely maltreated by an unworthy kinsman! Allow me to\nstrive to soften and appease your just wrath, which only heightens your\ncharms and winning beauty, as high as the heel of your slipper! I hope\nto soften you, Nature having bestowed on me a large amount of softness,\nand to appease you, being fond of sweet pease. As to the Leipzig affair,\nI can't tell whether it may be worth stooping to pick up; were it a bag\nof ringing coin, it would be a very different thing, and nothing less do\nI mean to accept, so there is an end of it.\n\nSweetest cousin, such is life! One man has got a purse, but another has\ngot the money, and he who has neither has nothing; and nothing is even\nless than little; while, on the other hand, much is a great deal more\nthan nothing, and nothing can come of nothing. Thus has it been from the\nbeginning, is now, and ever shall be; and as I can make it neither\nworse nor better, I may as well conclude my letter. The gods know I am\nsincere. How does Probst get on with his wife? and do they live in\nbliss or in strife? most silly questions, upon my life! Adieu, angel!\nMy father sends you his uncle's blessing, and a thousand cousinly kisses\nfrom my sister. Angel, adieu!\n\nA TENDER ODE. [Footnote: A parody of Klopstock's \"Dein susses Bild,\nEdone\"]\n\nTO MY COUSIN.\n\n   THY sweet image, cousin mine,\n    Hovers aye before me; Would the form indeed were thine!\n    How I would adore thee! I see it at the day's decline; I see it\n   through the pale moonshine, And linger o'er that form divine\n\n   By all the flowers of sweet perfume\n    I'll gather for my cousin,--By all the wreaths of myrtle-bloom\n    I'll wreathe her by the dozen,--I call upon that image there To\n   pity my immense despair, And be indeed my cousin fair\n\n[Footnote: These words are written round the slightly sketched\ncaricature of a face.]\n\n\n\n\nFOURTH PART.--MUNICH.--IDOMENEO.--NOVEMBER 1780 TO JANUARY 1781.\n\n\nMOZART now remained stationary at Salzburg till the autumn of 1780,\nhighly dissatisfied at being forced to waste his youthful days in\ninactivity, and in such an obscure place, but still as busy as ever. A\nsuccession of grand instrumental compositions were the fruits of this\nperiod: two masses, some vespers, the splendid music for \"Konig Thamos,\"\nand the operetta \"Zaide\" for Schikaneder. At length, however, to his\nvery great joy, a proposal was made to him from Munich to write a grand\nopera for the Carnival of 1781. It was \"Idomeneo, Konig von Greta.\" At\nthe beginning of November he once more set off to Munich in order to\n\"prepare an exact fit,\" on the spot, of the different songs in the opera\nfor the singers, and to rehearse and practise everything with them. The\nAbbate Varesco in Salzburg was the author of the libretto, in which\nmany an alteration had yet to be made, and these were all to be effected\nthrough the intervention of the father.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 127",
    "body": "Munich, Nov. 13, 1780.\n\nI WRITE in the greatest haste, for I am not yet dressed, and must go off\nto Count Seeau's. Cannabich, Quaglio, and Le Grand, the ballet-master,\nalso dine there to consult about what is necessary for the opera.\nCannabich and I dined yesterday with Countess Baumgarten, [Footnote: He\nwrote an air for her, the original of which is now in the State Library\nat Munich.] nee Lerchenteld. My friend is all in all in that family, and\nnow I am the same. It is the best and most serviceable house here to me,\nfor owing to their kindness all has gone well with me, and, please God,\nwill continue to do so. I am just going to dress, but must not omit the\nchief thing of all, and the principal object of my letter,--to wish you,\nmy very dearest and kindest father, every possible good on this your\nname-day. I also entreat the continuance of your fatherly love, and\nassure you of my entire obedience to your wishes. Countess la Rose sends\nher compliments to you and my sister, so do all the Cannabichs and both\nWendling families, Ramm, Eck father and son, Becke, and Herr del Prato,\nwho happens to be with me. Yesterday Count Seeau presented me to the\nElector, who was very gracious. If you were to speak to Count Seeau now,\nyou would scarcely recognize him, so completely have the Mannheimers\ntransformed him.\n\nI am ex commissione to write a formal answer in his name to the Abbate\nVaresco, but I have no time, and was not born to be a secretary. In the\nfirst act (eighth scene) Herr Quaglio made the same objection that we\ndid originally,--namely, that it is not fitting the king should be\nquite alone in the ship. If the Abbe thinks that he can be reasonably\nrepresented in the terrible storm forsaken by every one, WITHOUT A SHIP,\nexposed to the greatest peril, all may remain as it is; but, N. B., no\nship--for he cannot be alone in one; so, if the other mode be adopted,\nsome generals or confidants (mates) must land from the ship with him.\nThen the king might address a few words to his trusty companions, and\ndesire them to leave him alone, which in his melancholy situation would\nbe quite natural.\n\nThe second duet is to be omitted altogether, and indeed with more profit\nthan loss to the opera; for if you will read the scene it evidently\nbecomes cold and insipid by the addition of an air or a duet, and very\nirksome to the other actors, who must stand, by all the time unoccupied;\nbesides, the noble contest between Ilia and Idamante would become too\nlong, and thus lose its whole interest.\n\nMara has not the good fortune to please me. She does too little to be\ncompared to a Bastardella [see No. 8], (yet this is her peculiar style,)\nand too much to touch the heart like a Weber [Aloysia], or any judicious\nsinger.\n\nP.S.--A propos, as they translate so badly here, Count Seeau would like\nto have the opera translated in Salzburg, and the arias alone to be\nin verse. I am to make a contract that the payment of the poet and the\ntranslator should be made in one sum. Give me an answer soon about this.\nAdieu! What of the family portraits? Are they good likenesses? Is my\nsister's begun yet? The opera is to be given for the first time on the\n26th of January. Be so kind as to send me the two scores of the masses\nthat I have with me, and also the mass in B. Count Seeau is to mention\nthem soon to the Elector; I should like to be known here in this style\nalso. I have just heard a mass of Gruan's; it would be easy to compose\nhalf a dozen such in a day. Had I known that this singer, Del Prato, was\nso bad, I should certainly have recommended Cecarelli.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 129",
    "body": "Munich, Nov. 22, 1780.\n\nI SEND herewith, at last, the long-promised aria for Herr Schikaneder.\nDuring the first week that I was here I could not entirely complete it,\nowing to the business that caused me to come here. Besides, Le Grand,\nthe ballet-master, a terrible talker and bore, has just been with me,\nand by his endless chattering caused me to miss the diligence. I hope\nmy sister is quite well. I have at this moment a bad cold, which in such\nweather is quite the fashion here. I hope and trust, however, that\nit will soon take its departure,--indeed, both phlegm and cough are\ngradually disappearing. In your last letter you write repeatedly, \"Oh!\nmy poor eyes! I du not wish to write myself blind--half-past eight at\nnight, and no spectacles!\" But why do you write at night, and without\nspectacles? I cannot understand it. I have not yet had an opportunity\nof speaking to Count Seeau, but hope to do so to-day, and shall give you\nany information I can gather by the next post. At present all will, no\ndoubt, remain as it is. Herr Raaff paid me a visit yesterday morning,\nand I gave him your regards, which seemed to please him much. He\nis, indeed, a worthy and thoroughly respectable man. The day before\nyesterday Del Frato sang in the most disgraceful way at the concert. I\nwould almost lay a wager that the man never manages to get through the\nrehearsals, far less the opera; he has some internal disease.\n\nCome in!--Herr Panzacchi! [who was to sing Arbace]. He has already paid\nme three visits, and has just asked me to dine with him on Sunday. I\nhope the same thing won't happen to me that happened to us with the\ncoffee. He meekly asks if, instead of se la sa, he may sing se co la, or\neven ut, re, mi, fa, sol, la.\n\nI am so glad when you often write to me, only not at night, and far less\nwithout spectacles. You must, however, forgive me if I do not say much\nin return, for every minute is precious; besides, I am obliged chiefly\nto write at night, for the mornings are so very dark; then I have to\ndress, and the servant at the Weiser sometimes admits a troublesome\nvisitor. When Del Prato comes I must sing to him, for I have to teach\nhim his whole part like a child; his method is not worth a farthing.\nI will write more fully next time. What of the family portraits? My\nsister, if she has nothing better to do, might mark down the names\nof the best comedies that have been performed during my absence. Has\nSchikaneder still good receipts? My compliments to all my friends, and\nto Gilofsky's Katherl. Give a pinch of Spanish snuff from me to Pimperl\n[the dog], a good wine-sop, and three kisses. Do you not miss me at all?\nA thousand compliments to all--all! Adieu! I embrace you both from my\nheart, and hope my sister will soon recover. [Nannerl, partly owing to\nher grief in consequence of an unfortunate love-affair, was suffering\nfrom pains in the chest, which threatened to turn to consumption.]",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 131",
    "body": "Munich, Dec. 1, 1780.\n\nTHE rehearsal went off with extraordinary success; there were only six\nviolins in all, but the requisite wind-instruments. No one was admitted\nbut Count Seeau's sister and young Count Seinsheim. This day week we are\nto have another rehearsal, with twelve violins for the first act, and\nthen the second act will be rehearsed (like the first on the previous\noccasion). I cannot tell you how delighted and surprised all were; but\nI never expected anything else, for I declare I went to this rehearsal\nwith as quiet a heart as if I had been going to a banquet. Count\nSeinsheim said to me, \"I do assure you that though I expected a great\ndeal from you, I can truly say this I did not expect.\"\n\nThe Cannabichs and all who frequent their house are true friends of\nmine. After the rehearsal, (for we had a great deal to discuss with the\nCount,) when I went home with Cannabich, Madame Cannabich came to\nmeet me, and hugged me from joy at the rehearsal having passed off\nso admirably; then came Ramm and Lang, quite out of their wits with\ndelight. My true friend the excellent lady, who was alone in the house\nwith her invalid daughter Rose, had been full of solicitude on my\naccount. When you know him, you will find Ramm a true German, saying\nexactly what he thinks to your face. He said to me, \"I must honestly\nconfess that no music ever made such an impression on me, and I assure\nyou I thought of your father fifty times at least, and of the joy he\nwill feel when he hears this opera.\" But enough of this subject. My cold\nis rather worse owing to this rehearsal, for it is impossible not to\nfeel excited when honor and fame are at stake, however cool you may be\nat first. I did everything you prescribed for my cold, but it goes on\nvery slowly, which is particularly inconvenient to me at present; but\nall my writing about it will not put an end to my cough, and yet write I\nmust. To-day I have begun to take violet syrup and a little almond\noil, and already I feel relieved, and have again stayed two days in the\nhouse. Yesterday morning Herr Raaff came to me again to hear the aria\nin the second act. The man is as much enamored of his aria as a young\npassionate lover ever was of his fair one. He sings it the last thing\nbefore he goes to sleep, and the first thing in the morning when he\nawakes. I knew already, from a sure source, but now from himself, that\nhe said to Herr von Viereck (Oberststallmeister) and to Herr von Kastel,\n\"I am accustomed constantly to change my parts, to suit me better, in\nrecitative as well as in arias, but this I have left just as it was, for\nevery single note is in accordance with my voice.\" In short, he is as\nhappy as a king. He wishes the interpolated aria to be a little altered,\nand so do I. The part commencing with the word era he does not like, for\nwhat we want here is a calm tranquil aria; and if consisting of only one\npart, so much the better, for a second subject would have to be brought\nin about the middle, which leads me out of my way. In \"Achill in Sciro\"\nthere is an air of this kind, \"or che mio figlio sei.\" I thank my sister\nvery much for the list of comedies she sent me. It is singular enough\nabout the comedy \"Rache fur Rache\"; it was frequently given here with\nmuch applause, and quite lately too, though I was not there myself. I\nbeg you will present my devoted homage to Madlle. Therese von Barisani;\nif I had a brother, I would request him to kiss her hand in all\nhumility, but having a sister only is still better, for I beg she will\nembrace her in the most affectionate manner in my name. A propos, do\nwrite a letter to Cannabich; he deserves it, and it will please him\nexceedingly. What does it matter if he does not answer you? You must\nnot judge him from his manner; he is the same to every one, and means\nnothing. You must first know him well.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 132",
    "body": "Munich, Dec. 5, 1780.\n\nThe death of the Empress [Maria Theresa] does not at all affect my\nopera, for the theatrical performances are not suspended, and the plays\ngo on as usual. The entire mourning is not to last more than six weeks,\nand my opera will not be given before the 20th of January. I wish you to\nget my black suit thoroughly brushed to make it as wearable as possible,\nand forward it to me by the first diligence; for next week every one\nmust be in mourning, and I, though constantly on the move, must cry with\nthe others.\n\nWith regard to Raaff's last aria, I already mentioned that we both wish\nto have more touching and pleasing words. The word era is constrained;\nthe beginning good, but gelida massa is again hard. In short,\nfar-fetched or pedantic expressions are always inappropriate in a\npleasing aria. I should also like the air to express only peace and\ncontentment; and one part would be quite as good--in fact, better, in my\nopinion. I also wrote about Panzacchi; we must do what we can to oblige\nthe good old man. He wishes to have his recitative in the third act\nlengthened a couple of lines, which, owing to the chiaro oscuro and his\nbeing a good actor, will have a capital effect. For example, after the\nstrophe, \"Sei la citta del pianto, e questa reggia quella del duol,\"\ncomes a slight glimmering of hope, and then, \"Madman that I am! whither\ndoes my grief lead me?\" \"Ah! Creta tutta io vedo.\" The Abbato Varesco is\nnot obliged to rewrite the act on account of these things, for they can\neasily be interpolated. I have also written that both I and others think\nthe oracle's subterranean speech too long to make a good effect. Reflect\non this. I must now conclude, having such a mass of writing to do. I\nhave not seen Baron Lehrbach, and don't know whether he is here or not;\nand I have no time to run about. I may easily not know whether he is\nhere, but he cannot fail to know positively that I am. Had I been a\ngirl, no doubt he would have come to see me long ago. Now adieu!\n\nI have this moment received your letter of the 4th December. You must\nbegin to accustom yourself a little to the kissing system. You can\nmeanwhile practise with Maresquelli, for each time that you come to\nDorothea Wendling's (where everything is rather in the French style) you\nwill have to embrace both mother and daughter, but--N. B., on the chin,\nso that the paint may not be rubbed off. More of this next time. Adieu!\n\nP.S.--Don't forget about my black suit; I must have it, or I shall be\nlaughed at, which is never agreeable.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 133",
    "body": "Munich, Dec. 13, 1780.\n\nYour last letters seemed to me far too short, so I searched all the\npockets in my black suit to see if I could not find something more. In\nVienna and all the Imperial dominions, the gayeties are to be resumed\nsix weeks hence,--a very sensible measure, for mourning too long is\nnot productive of half as much good to the deceased as of injury to the\nliving. Is Herr Schikaneder to remain in Salzburg? If so, he might still\nsee and hear my opera. Here people, very properly, cannot comprehend\nwhy the mourning should last for three months, while that for our late\nElector was only six weeks. The theatre, however, goes on as usual. You\ndo not write to me how Herr Esser accompanied my sonatas--ill, or well?\nThe comedy, \"Wie man sich die Sache deutet,\" is charming, for I saw\nit--no, not saw it, but read it, for it has not yet been performed;\nbesides, I have been only once in the theatre, having no leisure to go,\nthe evening being the time I like best to work. If her Grace, the most\nsensible gracious Frau von Robinig, does not on this occasion change the\nperiod of her gracious journey to Munich, her Grace will be unable to\nhear one note of my opera. My opinion, however, is, that her Grace\nin her supreme wisdom, in order to oblige your excellent son, will\ngraciously condescend to stay a little longer. I suppose your portrait\nis now begun, and my sister's also, no doubt. How is it likely to turn\nout? Have you any answer yet from our plenipotentiary at Wetzlar? I\nforget his name--Fuchs, I think. I mean, about the duets for two pianos.\nIt is always satisfactory to explain a thing distinctly, and the arias\nof Esopus are, I suppose, still lying on the table? Send them to me by\nthe diligence, that I may give them myself to Herr von Dummhoff, who\nwill then remit them post-free. To whom? Why, to Heckmann--a charming\nman, is he not? and a passionate lover of music. My chief object comes\nto-day at the close of my letter, but this is always the case with me.\nOne day lately, after dining with Lisel Wendling, I drove with Le Grand\nto Cannabich's (as it was snowing heavily). Through the window\nthey thought it was you, and that we had come together. I could not\nunderstand why both Karl and the children ran down the steps to meet\nus, and when they saw Le Grand, did not say a word, but looked quite\ndiscomposed, till they explained it when we went up-stairs. I shall\nwrite nothing more, because you write so seldom to me--nothing, except\nthat Herr Eck, who has just crept into the room to fetch his sword which\nhe forgot the last time he was here, sends his best wishes to Thresel,\nPimperl, Jungfer Mitzerl, Gilofsky, Katherl, my sister, and, last of\nall, to yourself. Kiss Thresel for me; a thousand kisses to Pimperl.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 136",
    "body": "Munich, Dec 27, 1780.\n\nI HAVE received the entire opera, Schachtner's letter, your note, and\nthe pills. As for the two scenes to be curtailed, it was not my own\nsuggestion, but one to which I consented--my reason being that Raaff and\nDel Prato spoil the recitative by singing it quite devoid of all spirit\nand fire, and so monotonously. They are the most miserable actors that\never trod the stage. I had a desperate battle royal with Seeau as to the\ninexpediency, unfitness, and almost impossibility of the omissions in\nquestion. However, all is to be printed as it is, which at first he\npositively refused to agree to, but at last, on rating him soundly, he\ngave way. The last rehearsal was splendid. It took place in a spacious\napartment in the palace. The Elector was also within hearing. On this\noccasion it was rehearsed with the whole orchestra, (of course I mean\nthose who belong to the opera.) After the first act the Elector called\nout Bravo! rather too audibly, and when I went into the next room to\nkiss his hand he said, \"Your opera is quite charming, and cannot fail to\ndo you honor.\" As he was not sure whether he could remain for the whole\nperformance, we played the concerted aria and the thunderstorm at the\nbeginning of the second act, by his desire, when he again testified\nhis approbation in the kindest manner, and said, laughing, \"Who could\nbelieve that such great things could be hidden in so small a head?\"\nNext day, too, at his reception, he extolled my opera much. The ensuing\nrehearsal will probably take place in the theatre. A propos, Becke\ntold me, a day or two ago, that he had written to you about the last\nrehearsal but one, and among other things had said that Raaff's aria\nin the second act is not composed in accordance with the sense of the\nwords, adding, \"So I am told, for I understand Italian too little to be\nable to judge.\" I replied, \"If you had only asked me first and\nwritten afterwards! I must tell you that whoever said such a thing can\nunderstand very little Italian. The aria is quite adapted to the words.\nYou hear the mare, and the mare funesto; and the passages dwell on the\nminacciar, and entirely express minacciar (threatening). Moreover, it\nis the most superb aria in the opera, and has met with universal\napprobation.\"\n\nIs it true that the Emperor is ill? Is it true that the Archbishop\nintends to come to Munich? Raaff is the best and most upright man alive,\nbut--so addicted to old-fashioned routine that flesh and blood cannot\nstand it; so that it is very difficult to write for him, but very easy\nif you choose to compose commonplace arias, as for instance the first\none, \"Vedromi intorno.\" When you hear it, you will say that it is good\nand pretty, but had I written it for Zonca it would have suited the\nwords better. Raaff likes everything according to rule, and does\nnot regard expression. I have had a piece of work with him about the\nquartet. The more I think of the quartet as it will be on the stage,\nthe more effective I consider it, and it has pleased all those who\nhave heard it on the piano. Raaff alone maintains that it will not be\nsuccessful. He said to me confidentially, \"There is no opportunity to\nexpand the voice; it is too confined.\" As if in a quartet the words\nshould not far rather be spoken, as it were, than sung! He does not at\nall understand such things. I only replied, \"My dear friend, if I were\naware of one single note in this quartet which ought to be altered, I\nwould change it at once; but there is no single thing in my opera with\nwhich I am so pleased as with this quartet, and when you have once\nheard it sung in concert you will speak very differently. I took every\npossible pains to conform to your taste in your two arias, and intend to\ndo the same with the third, so I hope to be successful; but with\nregard to trios and quartets, they should be left to the composer's own\ndiscretion.\" On which he said that he was quite satisfied. The other\nday he was much annoyed by some words in his last aria--rinvigorir and\nringiovenir, and especially vienmi a rinvigorir--five i's! It is true,\nthis is very disagreeable at the close of an air.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  },
  {
    "heading": "No. 138",
    "body": "Munich, Jan. 3, 1780.\n\nMY head and my hands are so fully occupied with my third act, that it\nwould not be wonderful if I turned into a third act myself, for it alone\nhas cost me more trouble than the entire opera; there is scarcely\na scene in it which is not interesting to the greatest degree.\nThe accompaniment of the underground music consists merely of five\ninstruments, namely, three trombones and two French horns, which are\nplaced on the spot whence the voice proceeds. The whole orchestra is\nsilent at this part.\n\nThe grand rehearsal positively takes place on the 20th, and the first\nperformance on the 22d. All you will both require is to bring one\nblack dress, and another for every-day wear, when you are only visiting\nintimate friends where there is no ceremony, and thus save your black\ndress a little; and if my sister likes, one pretty dress also, that she\nmay go to the ball and the Academie Masquee.\n\nHerr von Robinig is already here, and sends his regards to you. I hear\nthat the two Barisanis are also coming to Munich; is this true? Heaven\nbe praised that the cut on the finger of the Archbishop was of no\nconsequence! Good heavens! how dreadfully I was alarmed at first!\nCannabich thanks you for your charming letter, and all his family beg\ntheir remembrances. He told me you had written very humorously. You must\nhave been in a happy mood.\n\nNo doubt we shall have a good many corrections to make in the third act\nwhen on the stage; as for instance scene sixth, after Arbace's aria, the\npersonages are marked, \"Idomeneo, Arbace, &c., &c.\" How can the latter\nso instantly reappear on the spot? Fortunately he might stay away\naltogether. In order to make the matter practicable, I have written a\nsomewhat longer introduction to the High Priest's recitative. After\nthe mourning chorus the King and his people all go away, and in the\nfollowing scene the directions are, \"Idomeneo kneels down in the\nTemple.\" This is impossible; he must come accompanied by his whole\nsuite. A march must necessarily be introduced here, so I have composed\na very simple one for two violins, tenor, bass, and two hautboys, to\nbe played a mezza voce, and during this time the King appears, and the\nPriests prepare the offerings for the sacrifice. The King then kneels\ndown and begins the prayer.\n\nIn Elettra's recitative, after the underground voice has spoken, there\nought to be marked exeunt. I forgot to look at the copy written for the\npress to see whether it is there, and whereabouts it comes. It seems\nto me very silly that they should hurry away so quickly merely to allow\nMadlle. Elettra to be alone.\n\nI have this moment received your few lines of January 1st. When I opened\nthe letter I chanced to hold it in such a manner that nothing but a\nblank sheet met my eyes. At last I found the writing. I am heartily glad\nthat I have got an aria for Raaff, as he was quite resolved to introduce\nthe air he had discovered, and I could not possibly (N. B., with a\nRaaff) have arranged in any other way than by having Varesco's air\nprinted, but Raaff's sung. I must stop, or I shall waste too much time.\nThank my sister very much for her New-Year's wishes, which I\nheartily return. I hope we shall soon be right merry together. Adieu!\nRemembrances to friends, not forgetting Ruscherle. Young Eck sends her a\nkiss, a sugar one of course.",
    "author": "Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "recipient": "Constanze Mozart",
    "source": "The Letters of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart",
    "period": "1769–1791"
  }
]