Let every one but do his best—
We of success assured may rest;
So tells you from his candid heart
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart.”
The master ended his speech; his audience clapped approbation, and they separated in good humor and mutual satisfaction.
THE REHEARSAL.
On the twenty-eighth day of October, Don Giovanni being complete except the overture, the rehearsals began. On the morning of the first rehearsal, before Mozart went to the opera-house, he walked for recreation in the public garden. Before him he saw the well known figure of the trumpeter, Nepomuck Stradetzky, absorbed, as it seemed, in meditation. Mozart walked faster, overtook him and tapped him gently on the shoulder. Nepomuck turned quickly, growling out—
“Ha, what do you want?” but bowed almost to the ground as he recognised the master, and said: “Ah! I beg a thousand pardons, worthy Herr von Mozart! I was deep in revery, and thought it some knave who wanted to play a trick upon me! I beg your pardon—”
“For what?” replied Mozart. “Nobody is pleased at being disturbed in a revery—not I, at least! But what were you thinking about, Herr von Stradetzky?”
Nepomuck answered with a clear brow, “Ay, of what but your opera, most excellent Herr von Mozart? Is not all Prague full of expectation of the miracle that is to appear? Wherever I go, I am asked, “Herr von Nepomuck, when is the first representation? You play the tenor-trumpet, eh, Herr von Nepomuck?”