Dragomira. Great variety—great characters, effects.—The mother of St. Wenzelaus, the Duke of Bohemia.—One of her sons kills the other. She herself is a pagan, the better son is a Christian. They still show the spot in Prague where she was swallowed up by the earth with horses and equipage.—After I have lost all hope here I shall send it to Berlin.

There is much more talk in the Conversation Book about the opera, but neither sequence nor date can always be determined. Lichnowsky tells him that the management of the theatre is willing to do anything asked of it and is negotiating with Grillparzer. Brother Johann says: “Grillparzer is coming to-morrow—that is no affair of yours.—You wrote to the management to make arrangements with the poet, and to this it was agreed; hence Grillparzer must make terms.” In the same book Schikh, the editor, writes: “Why don’t you compose Grillparzer’s opera? Write the opera first and then we shall be in a position to wish you also to write a Requiem.”

Grillparzer Parts with Beethoven

Grillparzer says that Beethoven told him in Hetzendorf that his opera was ready (whether he meant in his head or in its essential elements in the numerous sketchbooks, the poet could not say), but after the composer’s death not a single note was found which could indubitably be assigned to their common work. The poet had faithfully adhered to his resolve not to remind the composer of the work in any way and “was never near him again until, clad in black and carrying a burning torch in my [his] hand,” he walked behind his coffin. Grillparzer’s memory is faulty in a few details. He says that he never met Beethoven after the visit to Hetzendorf except once; but the two men were together again in 1824. This, however, is inconsequential; the fact remains that Beethoven did not compose “Melusine.”—Why not? Many reasons must be obvious to those who have followed this narrative closely: illness; vexation of spirit; loss of initiative; a waning of the old capacity to assimilate conceptions and ideas which did not originate in his own consciousness and were not in harmony with his own predilections. Moreover, it was the period of his greatest introspection; he was communing more and more with his own soul, and separating himself more and more from all agencies of utterance except the one which spoke most truthfully and directly within him, and to which he entrusted his last revelations—the string quartet. “Melusine” was not composed, but the opera continued to occupy his attention at intervals until deep into the next year, and unless Holz is in error, some of his last labors were devoted to it. Too literal an acceptance must not, therefore, be given to Schindler’s statement that he “suddenly” abandoned the plan of writing a German opera because he learned that the similarity between the subjects of “Melusine” and “Undine” would embarrass the production of the former in Berlin.

B A C H

A project which cropped out intermittently during 1823 was the writing of an overture on the musical motive suggested by the letters composing the name of Bach. The thought seems to have become fixed in his mind in 1822, though the device of using as a motive in composition was at least as old as the Leipsic master’s “Art of Fugue,” and no doubt familiar to Beethoven. However, he was deeply engrossed in fugal writing at this period and it is very likely, as Nottebohm suggests, that he conceived an overture on the motive as a tribute to Bach’s genius. Several sketches showing different forms of the theme appear in the books of 1823; and a collateral memorandum, “This overture with the new symphony, and we shall have a concert (Akademie) in the Kärnthnerthor Theatre,” amongst sketches for the last quartets in 1825, shows that he clung to the idea almost to the end. Had Beethoven carried out all the plans for utilizing the theme which presented themselves to him between 1822 and 1825, there would have been several Bach overtures; unfortunately, he carried out none.

Beethoven and the Boy Liszt

On April 13, 1823, the boy Franz Liszt, who was studying with Carl Czerny and had made his first public appearance on the first day of the year, gave a concert in the small Ridotto room. Together with his father he had been presented to Beethoven by Schindler, but had not been received with any special marks of friendliness. The precocious boy gave expression to the hope that Beethoven would attend his approaching concert.[89] Later in the Conversation Book:

Little Liszt has urgently requested me humbly to beg you for a theme on which he wishes to improvise at his concert to-morrow. He will not break the seal till the time comes. The little fellow’s improvisations do not seriously signify. The lad is a fine pianist, but so far as his fancy is concerned it is far from the truth to say that he really improvises (was Phantasie anbelangt, so ist es noch weit am Tage bis man sagen kann, er phantasiert). Czerny (Carl) is his teacher. Just eleven years. Do come; it will certainly please Karl to hear how the little fellow plays. It is unfortunate that the lad is in Czerny’s hands.—You will make good the rather unfriendly reception of recent date by coming to little Liszt’s concert?—It will encourage the boy.—Promise me to come.