“They are, indeed!” murmured Friedemann, gloomily.
His father continued—“Since we are permitted, my boy, to meet on this New-year’s morning, allow me to ask how it stands with you in other respects? Eh, Friedemann, will you not soon seek out a wife among the daughters of the land? I warrant me, the court-organist need not seek long, to find a comely and willing damsel. Eh? speak, boy!”
“Dear father! there is time enough!”
“Pah! pah! I was not as old as you are, when I espoused your mother; and by my faith! I would have married sooner, if I had had my place. So make haste, Friedemann! ‘Early wooed, has none rued!’”
“It is a serious step, father.”
“That is very certain, and I am sure you would not take it precipitately; but I pray you, dear son, do it speedily. How merry a grandfather I shall be! and if the child is a boy, he must be named after me; and I will teach him his first notes. Ay, ’tis very true, marriage is no child’s play. I can tell you, son, I have toiled unweariedly, oft oppressed with care, to furnish you, my boys and girls, with your daily bread. Yet, has not the Almighty blessed my labors? Have I not brought you all up happily, to be brave men, and skilful musicians? It is singular, Friedemann, that from my great grandfather down, all the sons of the Bach family have had taste and talent for music. Look you—as I wrote down my last fugue, I thought of my sons, and of you, particularly, and confessed myself happy! I used often to think I might write something, like the old masters, which, centuries hence, could edify and delight men—that they would love my memory. May I be forgiven if there was aught of worldly arrogance in the thought. Now, however, I have become less ambitious; but I have one vision, in which my fancy will revel as long as I live! It is this—how rapturous will it be—when all the Bachs meet together in the Kingdom of Heaven, and unite in singing to the glory of God—their ‘hallelujahs’ resounding forever and ever in the presence of the Uncreate—who was, and is, and shall be! Friedemann! child of my heart! let me not miss you there!”
“Father!” cried the young man, and sank overpowered at Sebastian’s feet.
The elder Bach, unacquainted with the wo that struggled in his son’s breast, saw only in his agitation a burst of filial feeling. He laid both hands on the head of the kneeling youth, and said, devoutly, “God’s peace be with you, my Friedemann, now and ever, Amen!”
Friedemann arose, pale, but with a smile on his face. He kissed his father’s hand, and slowly withdrew from the apartment; but scarcely was the door closed behind him, than he rushed impetuously through the hall, down the steps, and through the streets to the open space, where he threw himself on the frozen earth, hid his burning forehead, and cursed aloud his miserable being.
After the lapse of an hour, having collected and composed himself, he returned to his father, and conversed with apparent cheerfulness. The elder Bach chatted at table with Philip, who was required to give him an account of all the magnificence he had seen in the capital. The splendor of Dresden had reached its utmost under the administration of the luxurious and prodigal Count von Bruhl; and no court, not even that of Vienna, rivalled the Polish Saxon in this respect.