After such a cordial reception Beethoven quickly regained his composure, and walked through the hall at the Prince’s side with uplifted head and without permitting the glitter and finery of the other guests to disturb him. Many eyes followed with astonishment the strange figure which, notwithstanding its entire lack of physical attractiveness, suggested the bearing of the lion, and notwithstanding its youthfulness concealed something great and distinguished under its insignificant exterior.
The Princess Lichnowski received the young man with an expression of gracious satisfaction, which was very agreeable to Beethoven. “It is nice that you are here,” said she. “I hope we shall be good friends, and then we shall have some good music together. Dear Mozart”[24]—she turned quickly to a simply but nicely dressed gentleman who stood near by—“please come here a moment.”
Mozart smilingly obeyed the summons and bowed low before the Princess, who held out her hand familiarly to him, and said: “No such ceremony between us, sir. Here, look at this young man. This is Herr Ludwig van Beethoven of Bonn, the electoral chamber musician and court organist—and this, my dear Beethoven, is our world-renowned master, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, the brightest sun in our musical firmament.”
Mozart greeted the young man, of whom he perhaps had not yet heard, in a friendly but at the same time somewhat cool manner. Beethoven, on the other hand, who enthusiastically admired Mozart’s compositions, could not conceal his delight that an opportunity was offered him to make the acquaintance of the great master, and expressed his feelings in the most emphatic manner.
“Let us be a little more quiet, young man,” interposed Mozart, smiling at Beethoven’s excessive adoration. “I can readily believe you like some of my compositions, and that pleases me. But we will not make too much noise about them. I see that you know me, but I do not yet know your ability as a musician. Therefore may I ask that sometime you will give us something of your best on the piano? I shall be delighted if I can return your compliments.”
Beethoven needed no second request. He felt inspired by the presence of the high priest in the temple of art, whose wonderful melodies had so charmed him, and he replied eagerly and quickly: “Where is the piano? If you will listen to me, Herr Mozart, I will play at once.”
“All the better,” said Mozart. “There is a piano in the next room. Let us go there.”
“Brava!” said the Princess, as she clapped her hands. “We shall hear something beautiful now. Let us go at once.”
Beethoven, his heart swelling with pride and eager to show himself to the master of music in the most advantageous light, threw himself into his work with impetuous vigor, and played continuously for a full quarter of an hour whatever the occasion and his own genius suggested. Those present listened intently, and when Beethoven brought his performance to a close with some splendid chords, a storm of applause followed. Prince and Princess Lichnowski openly expressed their astonishment at Beethoven’s artistic skill, and all the others praised him. Mozart alone remained calm and unexcited, and contented himself with saying a few coolly polite words of praise.
Beethoven blushed and turned pale alternately. He had expected a warmer recognition on the part of the renowned master, and such cool civility chilled the enthusiasm and inspiration in his breast like an icy breath. With a bitter smile he bowed his proud head and covered his heated brow with his hand. A moment before, he thought he had accomplished something excellent. Had his feelings deceived him? Had he completely overestimated his talent? That was a terrible thought.