The next morning a messenger came from the Elector to Beethoven’s house, bringing an order for him to repair immediately to the palace, and fetch with him his son Louis. The father was surprised; not more so than the boy, whose heart beat with undefined apprehension as they entered the princely mansion. A servant was in waiting, and conducted them without delay, or further announcement, to the presence of the Elector, who was attended by two gentlemen.
The Elector received old Beethoven with great kindness, and said, “We have heard much, recently, of the extraordinary musical talent of your son Louis. Have you brought him along with you?” Beethoven replied in the affirmative, stepped back to the door, and bade the boy come in.
“Come nearer, my little lad!” cried the Elector, graciously; “do not be shy. This gentleman here, is our new court organist—Herr Neefe; the other is the famous composer, Herr Yunker, from Cologne. We promised them both they should hear you play something; and think you may venture upon a tune before them. The late Master von Eden always spoke well of you.”
“Yes, he was pleased with me!” murmured the boy, softly. The Prince smiled, and bade him take his seat and begin. He sat down himself in a large easy chair. Louis went to the piano, and without examining the pile of notes that lay awaiting his selection, played a short piece; then a light and graceful melody, which he executed with such ease and spirit—nay, in so admirable a manner, that his distinguished auditors could not forbear expressing their surprise; and even his father was struck. When he left off playing, the Elector arose, came up to him, laid his hand on his head, and said encouragingly—
“Well done, my boy! we are pleased with you! Now, Master Yunker,” turning to the gentleman on his right hand, “what say you?”
“Your Highness!” answered the composer, “I will venture to say the lad has had considerable practice with that last air, to execute it so well.”
Louis burst into a laugh at this remark; the others looked surprised and grave; his father darted an angry glance at him, and the boy, conscious that he had done something wrong, became instantly silent.
The Elector himself laughed at the comical scene. “And pray what are you laughing at, my little fellow?” asked he.
The boy colored and looked down as he replied, “Because Herr Yunker thinks I have learned the air by heart, when it occurred to me but just now while I was playing.”
“Then,” returned the composer, “if you really improvised that piece, you ought to go through at sight a motiv I will give you presently.”