Mozart: A Life in Letters: A Life in Letters
Page 49
W. A. Mozart
[Postscript to Nannerl on the inside of the envelope] Ma très chère sœur,
Here are the 6 engraved sonatas and the sonata for 2 keyboards, I hope you like them. – Only four of them are new to you, the copyist wasn’t able to complete the variations, I’ll send them to you with my next letter.
Dear sister! – I have here a letter that I began to write to you, but because I’ve written so much to papa, I wasn’t able to write any more to you; and so I must ask you to make do with this cover for the time being, and I’ll write to you by the next post. Addio, farewell, I kiss you 1000 times and am ever your honest brother
W. A. Mozart
122. Mozart to his father, 16 January 1782, Vienna
Mon très cher Père,
Thank you for your kind and affectionate letter! – If I were to reply in detail to everything, I’d fill a whole quire of paper. – But as this is impossible, I’ll answer only the essential points. Her guardian is called Herr von Thorwart1 – he’s inspector of the theatre wardrobe – in a word, everything that affects the theatre has to pass through his hands. – It was also through him that the emperor sent me the 50 ducats. – I also discussed my concert2 at the theatre with him, because most of the work devolves on him – and he’s held in high regard by Count Rosenberg and Baron Kienmayr.3 – I must admit that I thought he’d disclose the whole affair to you without saying a word to me about it; – that he hasn’t done so but – in spite of his word of honour – has instead told the whole city of Vienna has caused him to sink considerably in my eyes. – I readily concede that Mme Weber and Herr von Thorwart may have erred in being too concerned for their own interests, although Mme Weber is no longer her own mistress but has to leave everything to the guardian, especially in matters of this kind; and the latter – who has never met me – certainly owes me no trust – but – there’s no doubt that he was overhasty in demanding a written undertaking,4 especially as I’d told him that you didn’t yet know about it and that I couldn’t possibly tell you about it now; – I asked him to be patient for a little while longer, until my circumstances had changed, when I’d write and tell you everything, and the whole affair would then be sorted out. – Well, this is all in the past; – and love must be my excuse; – but Herr von Thorwart was wrong to act as he did, though not so badly that he and Mme Weber should be thrown into chains, made to sweep the streets and forced to carry a board round their necks with the words: seducers of youth. That would be excessive. – And even if what you wrote were true, namely, that they kept open house for my sake, allowing me the run of it and giving me every opportunity etc. etc., the punishment would still be excessive. – But I don’t need to tell you that it’s not true; – indeed, it pains me to think that you could believe your son capable of frequenting such a house where such things went on. – I shall say only that you should believe the exact opposite of what you’ve been told. – Enough of this; –
Now for Clementi.5 – He’s a fine cembalo player. – And that’s about it. – He has great dexterity with his right hand. – The passages he plays best are those written in thirds. – For the rest, he doesn’t have a farthing’s worth of taste or feeling. – A mere machine.
After we’d paid each other enough compliments, the emperor decided that he should begin. La santa chiesa Catholica, he said – because Clementi is from Rome. – He improvised and played a sonata – the emperor then said to me allons off you go. – I too improvised and played some variations. – The grand duchess6 then produced some sonatas by Paisiello7 – wretchedly written out in his own hand – and I had to play the allegros, he the andantes and rondos. – We then took a theme from them and developed it on 2 pianos. – The odd thing is that I’d borrowed Countess Thun’s pianoforte but played on it only when I played on my own – that’s what the emperor wanted – also, I should add, the other instrument was out of tune and 3 keys were stuck. It doesn’t matter, said the emperor; – I assume that what he meant – placing the best possible construction on it – was that the emperor already knew my skill and knowledge of music and just wanted to get a proper idea of the stranger. –
But I know from a very good source that he was extremely pleased. The emperor was very kind to me and said a great deal to me in private. – He also talked to me about my marriage. – Who knows – perhaps – what do you think? – One can but try. –
More next time. – Farewell. I kiss your hands 1000 times and embrace my dear sister with all my heart. I am ever your most obedient son
W. A. Mozart
123. Mozart to his sister, 13 February 1782, Vienna
Ma très chère sœur,
Many thanks for sending me the libretto,1 which I’d been eagerly awaiting! – I hope that by the time you receive this letter you’ll have our dear, most beloved father with you again.2 – You mustn’t think that because I never reply to your letters I find them a nuisance! – Nothing will ever give me greater pleasure than the honour of receiving a letter from you, dear sister; – if the necessary business of earning my living allowed me to do so, God knows that I’d answer your letters! – Have I never replied to you? – Really? – It can’t be forgetfulness – or negligence. – So it must be due entirely to immediate obstacles – genuine impossibility! – Don’t I write little enough to my father too? – That’s bad enough, you’ll say! – But in God’s name – you both know Vienna! – Doesn’t a man who hasn’t a farthing’s assured income have enough to think about, what with having to work day and night in such a place? – – When our father has finished his duties in church and you’ve dismissed your few students, you can both spend the whole day doing what you like, including writing letters that contain whole litanies. – But I can’t do that. – I recently told my father how I spend my life, and I’ll repeat it for you now. – My hair is always done by 6 in the morning. – By 7 I’m fully dressed. – I then write till 9. From 9 till 1 I teach. – I then eat, unless I’m invited out to a place where people lunch at 2 or even 3, as is the case today and tomorrow, for example, at Countess Zichy’s3 and Countess Thun’s. – I can’t work before 5 or 6 in the evening, and often I’m prevented from doing so by a concert; if not, I compose till 9. – I then go to see my dear Constanze – where the pleasure of seeing each other is, however, generally spoilt by her mother’s embittered remarks – I’ll explain all this in my next letter to my father – hence my wish to free her and rescue her as soon as possible. – I return home at half past 10 or 11 – this depends on her mother’s barbed remarks and my resilience in enduring them. – As I can’t rely on being able to compose in the evening because of the concerts that often take place and also because of the uncertainty of being summoned hither and thither, I tend to write some more before going to bed – especially if I get home early. – I then often go on writing until 1 – and then I’m up again at 6. –
Dearest sister! – If you think that I could ever forget my dearest, most beloved father and you, then – – but enough of that! God knows the truth, and that is reassurance enough for me; – He may punish me if ever I forget you! – Adieu – Iam ever your honest brother
W. A. Mozart
P. S.: If my dearest father is already back in Salzburg, I kiss his hands 1000 times.
124. Mozart to his father, 10 April 1782, Vienna
Mon très cher Père,
I see from your letter of the 2nd inst. that you’ve received everything safely; I’m delighted you’re pleased with the watch ribbons and snuffbox and that my sister is pleased with the 2 mob caps. – I bought neither the watch ribbons nor the snuffbox – they were both presents from Count Szápáry. – I’ve passed on your best wishes to my dear Constanze – she kisses your hands, father, and embraces my sister with all her heart and hopes she may be her friend. – She couldn’t have been more delighted when I told her you were so pleased with the 2 mob caps, as that is exactly what she’d hoped. – Your postscript regarding her mother is justified only to the extent that she likes a drink and,
indeed, more than a woman should. But – I’ve never seen her drunk, it would be a lie if I claimed otherwise. – The children drink only water – and even though their mother almost forces wine on them, she can’t bring them to drink it. This often results in the most violent arguments – can you imagine a mother arguing in this way? –
As for the rumour that I’m to be taken into the emperor’s service, I’ve nothing to say on the matter as I know absolutely nothing about it. – It’s true that the whole town is talking about it and a whole crowd of people have already congratulated me on it. – And I’m more than happy to think that it has already been discussed with the emperor and that he may even be thinking about it; – but so far I know not a word myself. – The situation at present is that the emperor is thinking about it and doing so, moreover, without my having taken a single step. – I’ve been a few times to see Herr von Strack1 – who’s certainly a very good friend of mine – in order to ensure that I’m seen and because I enjoy his company, but not so often as to become a nuisance or to give him cause to think that I’ve ulterior motives. – If he’s honest with himself, he is bound to say that he’s never heard me utter a single word that could have given him cause to think that I’d like to stay here, still less that I want to enter the emperor’s service. We’ve spoken only about music. – It’s on his own initiative, therefore, and entirely without self-interest that he has spoken so favourably about me to the emperor. – Since we’ve reached this point without any intervention on my part, I think we can leave things to reach a conclusion in the same way. – If one bestirs oneself, one immediately receives a smaller salary as the emperor is in any case very tight-fisted. – If the emperor wants me, he shall pay for me – the mere honour of serving him isn’t enough. – If the emperor gives me 1000 florins while some count gives me 2000, I’ll give the emperor my best wishes and go and work for the count. – Assuming, of course, that it were a secure appointment. –
By the way, I meant to ask you to send me the 6 fugues by Handel and the toccatas and fugues by Eberlin when you return the rondo.2 – At noon every Sunday I visit Baron van Swieten – here nothing is played but Handel and Bach. –
I’m currently collecting Bach fugues. – Not only Sebastian but also Emanuel and Friedemann Bach.3 – And also Handel’s. So I’m missing only these. – And I’d also like the baron to hear Eberlin’s. – I expect you already know that the English Bach4 has died? – What a loss to the world of music! – Farewell for now; I kiss your hands 1000 times and embrace my dear sister with all my heart. I am ever your most obedient son
W. A. Mozart
P. S.: Could I ask you, when you’ve a moment – but the sooner the better –, to send me my concerto for Countess Lützow? In C.5
125. Mozart to Constanze Weber, 29 April 1782, Vienna
Dearest, most beloved Friend,
Surely you’ll allow me to continue using this name? – Surely you don’t hate me so much that I may no longer be your friend and you – no longer mine? – And – even if you don’t want to be my friend any longer, you can’t stop me thinking well of you, my friend, as I’ve now got used to doing so. – Think about what you said to me today. – In spite of all my entreaties, you snubbed me 3 times today and told me to my face that you wanted nothing more to do with me. – It’s by no means a matter of such indifference to me as it is to you to lose the object of my love, and I’m not so hot-tempered, rash and foolish as to accept such a snub. – I love you too much to take this step. – And so I would ask you once again to consider and reflect on the cause of this annoyance, which is that I was angry that you’d been so shamelessly inconsiderate as to tell your sisters – in my presence, be it added – that you had got a young beau to measure your calves. – No woman who cares for her honour does such a thing. – It is a good maxim to do only what you would do in company. – But there are many secondary considerations to be taken into account. – Are the people present all good friends and acquaintances? – Am I a child or already a young woman of marriageable age – but especially if I’m engaged to be married? – But, above all, whether only people of my own class or of a lower class are present – but especially if there are people there who are my social superiors. – Even if it’s true that the baroness herself did so, it’s still very different, because she’s already past her prime1 and can’t possibly attract men any longer – and in any case she loves – I need say no more. – I hope, my dearest friend, that even if you refuse to be my wife, you’ll never lead a life like that. – Even if you couldn’t resist the urge to join in – although it’s not always appropriate for a man to join in, still less a woman – then, for heaven’s sake, you should have taken the ribbon and measured your calves yourself – just as all women of honour would have done in such cases in my presence – and not let a beau do it – I – I’d never have done it to you in the presence of others – I’d have handed you the ribbon myself. – Still less should you have let it be done by a stranger – someone about whom I care nothing. – But it’s over now. – And some slight acknowledgement of your somewhat ill-considered behaviour on that occasion would have put everything to rights again. – And – if you won’t take it amiss – could still put everything to rights, dearest friend. – You can see from this how much I love you. – – I don’t get as worked up as you do; – I think – I consider – and I feel. – If you feel – if you have feelings – I know for certain that this very day I shall be able to say very calmly that Constanze is the virtuous, honourable – sensible and faithful sweetheart of one who is honest and who thinks only well of her,
Mozart
126. Mozart to his father, 20 July 1782, Vienna
Mon très cher Père,
I hope you received my last letter, in which I told you that my opera1 had been well received. – There was another performance yesterday; – can you imagine that there was an even more powerful cabal yesterday than at the first night? – The whole of the first act was hissed. – But they couldn’t prevent the loud shouts of bravo during the arias. – I’d pinned my hopes on the closing trio2 – but as ill luck would have it, Fischer went wrong and as a result Dauer3 – Pedrillo – went wrong too – and Adamberger on his own couldn’t sing all three lines so that the whole effect was lost and as a result it wasn’t repeated. – I was so angry that I was beside myself – as was Adamberger – and said straightaway that I wouldn’t allow the opera to be given again without a short rehearsal for the singers. – In the 2nd act both the duets4 were repeated, as they had been the first time, and so was Belmonte’s rondeau ‘Wenn der Freude Thränen fliessen’.– The theatre was almost fuller than on the first night. – By the previous day there’d been no more reserved seats left either in the stalls or in the 3rd tier, and no boxes either. The opera has made 1200 florins in 2 days. –
I’m enclosing the original and 2 copies of the libretto. –
You’ll see that I cut a great deal; that’s because I knew that the full score is copied at once here – but I’d allowed my ideas free rein – and before I gave it to be copied I made a number of changes and cuts at various points. – It was given just as you see it. – Here and there the trumpets and timpani, flutes, clarinets and Turkish music are missing because I couldn’t get hold of any paper with enough lines. – They’re written out on extra sheets – the copyist has presumably lost them as he couldn’t find them. – The first act unfortunately fell in the mud when I was having it sent somewhere or other – I no longer remember where – which is why it’s so dirty. –
I’ve lots of work at the moment. – By Sunday week I have to arrange my opera for wind band – otherwise someone else will get in first – and they’ll be the one to profit from it, not me;5 and I’m also supposed to be writing a new symphony!6 – How shall I ever manage? – You can’t imagine how difficult it is to arrange such a thing for wind band – so that it suits the wind instruments and yet loses none of its effectiveness. – Oh well, I’ll just have to sit up all night working on it, there
’s no other way – and to you, my dearest father, may it be sacrificed. – You’ll certainly receive something every post day, and I’ll work as quickly as possible – and as far as haste allows, I’ll make a good job of it. –
Count Zichy has just this minute sent a message, asking if I’ll drive out to Laxenburg with him, so that he can introduce me to Prince Kaunitz. – So I must stop now and get dressed – if I’m not planning to go out, I don’t bother to dress.
The copyist has just this minute sent the remaining parts.
Adieu. I kiss your hands 1000 times and embrace my dear sister with all my heart. I am ever your most obedient son
W. A. Mozart
P. S.: My dear Constanze sends you both her best wishes.
127. Mozart to his father, 27 July 1782, Vienna
Mon très cher Père,
You’ll no doubt be surprised to receive only the first allegro;1 but – I’d no choice – I’ve had to write a Nacht Musique2 in a hurry, but only for wind band – otherwise I could have used it for you too–on Wednesday the 31st I’ll send you the 2 minuets, the andante and the final movement – if I can, I’ll also send a march – if not you’ll have to make do with the one from the Haffner music3 – which is very little known: