"If you should see B. Koch, I beg you to tell her that it is unkind of her not to have written me even once. I have written to her twice, and to Malchus[10] three times—but no answer. Tell her that if she will not write herself, she might, at least, urge Malchus to do so.
"In concluding my letter, I venture one more request, namely, that it would make me very happy to possess an Angola vest knitted by your hands, my dear friend. Forgive this not very modest demand! It arises out of my great predilection for everything made by you; but I must tell you confidentially that there is also a little vanity connected with it. I want to be able to say that I possess something of one of the best and most admired girls in Bonn. I have, it is true, still the first which you kindly gave me in Bonn, but it has become so old-fashioned that I can only treasure it up in my wardrobe as something of yours, very dear to me. You would delight me much by favouring me soon with one of your kind letters. Should mine give you any pleasure, I promise you certainly, so far as lies in my power, to continue them; since everything is welcome to me whereby I may prove to you how much I am,
"With all esteem,
"Your true Friend,
"L. v. Beethoven.
"P.S.—You will find the v. [variations] somewhat difficult to play, especially the shake in the coda; but don't let this alarm you, since it is so arranged that you have nothing to do but the shake; the other notes you may leave out, as they occur in the violin part. I would never have written in this manner had I not had occasion to remark that there are several people here in V., who, after I have extemporized of an evening, write down many of my peculiarities next day, and pass them off as their own.[11] As I foresaw that such things would soon be published, it occurred to me to anticipate their movements. Another reason was also—to perplex the pianoforte teachers here. Many of them are my mortal enemies, and I wished to revenge myself on them in this way; knowing that they would occasionally be asked to play the variations, when these gentlemen would come out in rather an unfavourable light."
The following fragment is without date:—
"The beautiful cravat, worked by your own hands, has caused me the greatest possible surprise. Although in itself so pleasing, it awakened within me feelings of melancholy. Its effect was to recall the past, and to shame me by your generous behaviour. In truth, I did not think that you still considered me worthy of remembrance.
"Oh! could you have been a witness of my emotions yesterday when it arrived, you would not think I exaggerate in saying that the recollection of you brings the tears to my eyes, and makes me very sad. However little I may deserve credit in your eyes, I beg you to believe, my friend (allow me still to call you so), that I have suffered and still suffer through the loss of your friendship. You and your dear mother I shall never forget. Your goodness to me was such that the loss of you neither can nor will be easily replaced. I know what I lost and what you were to me, but——if I attempt to fill up this blank, I must refer to scenes which are as unpleasant for you to hear as for me to describe.
"As a slight return for your kind remembrance of me, I take the liberty of sending you some variations, and the rondo with violin accompaniment. I have a great deal to do, or I would have copied the long-promised sonata for you. In my manuscript it is little better than a sketch, and it would be very difficult for Paraquin himself,[12] clever as he is, to transcribe it. You can have the rondo copied, and then return the score to me. It is the only one of all my compositions suitable for you, and as you are shortly going to Kerpen,[13] I thought it might afford you some pleasure.
"Farewell, my friend. It is impossible for me to call you by any other name, however indifferent I may be to you. Pray believe that I reverence you and your mother as highly as formerly.
"If it is in my power to contribute anything to your happiness, pray do not fail to let me know, since it is the only means left to me of proving my gratitude for past friendship.