In the evening, when Mozart appeared in the theatre, in the box of Count Thurn, he was greeted by the audience with three rounds of applause; and during the representation this testimony of delight was repeated after every scene. This was the more pleasing to the composer, as his Figaro had been very indifferently received in Vienna. Through the ill offices of Salieri, the piece had been badly cast and worse performed; so that Mozart had sworn an oath never to write another opera for the Viennese.

Loud and prolonged “vivats!” accompanied his carriage to the hotel; there he found his friends—Duscheck, the leader Strobach, and the Impressario of the opera company, Guardasoni, who had ordered a splendid supper; afterwards came Bassi, Bondini with his wife, and the fair and lively Saporitti. Much pleasant discourse about art, and sportive wit enlivened the meal; the gaiety of the company, even when the champagne was uncorked, never once passing, however, the bounds of decorum.

In his festive humor, Mozart was not so reserved to the curiosity of the impetuous Bassi, as he had been in the morning; but was prevailed on to give him a sketch of his part, of which three airs were already finished.

“Very good, Master Amadeus!” said Bassi, “but these airs are, with deference, rather insignificant for me.”

“How?” asked Mozart, looking at him with laughing eyes.

“I mean,” answered Bassi—“there is too little difficulty in them; they are all too easy!”

“Do you think so?”

“Yes—exactly so—Master? You must write me some very grand, difficult airs, or give me some you have ready! eh? will you do so?”

“No!” replied Mozart with a smile; “no, my good Bassi! that I will not do.” Bassi’s face visibly lengthened, but Mozart continued good humoredly, “Look you, tesoro! that the airs are not long, is true; but they are as long as they should be, and neither more nor less. But as to the great, too great facility, of which you complain, let that pass; I assure you, you will have plenty to do, if you sing them as they should be sung.”

“Ha?” mused Bassi.