But the Princess Esterhazy beckoned to his friends. "Take him away," she said, "the excitement will kill him, if he stays any longer."
They approached his chair and begged permission to escort him home. Haydn nodded his assent silently and smilingly, and his eyes glanced dreamily round the hall.
Suddenly he gave a start as if in great terror, and rose so impetuously that the furs and Turkish shawls, which had been wrapped round him, fell to the floor. His face crimsoned as if in the light of the setting sun; his eyes looked up with a radiant expression to the box yonder—to his emperor, whom he had loved so long and ardently, for whom he had wept in the days of adversity, for whom he had prayed and sung at all times. Now he saw him who, in his eyes, represented fatherland, home, and human justice; he felt that it was the last time his eyes would behold him, and he wished to bid farewell at this hour to the world, his fatherland, and his emperor.
With a vigorous hand he pushed back the friends who would have held him and replaced him in his chair. Now he was no longer a weak and decrepit old man; he felt strong and active, and he hastened forward with a rapid step through the orchestra toward the conductor's seat and the piano in front of it. He laid his hands, which trembled no longer, on the keys, and struck a full concord. He turned his face toward the imperial box; his eyes beamed with love and exultation, and he began to play his favorite hymn with impressive enthusiasm— the hymn which he had composed ten years ago in the days of Austria's adversity, and which he had sung every day since then,— the hymn, "Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser, unsern guten Kaiser Franz!" And the audience rose and gazed with profound emotion upon Joseph Haydn's gleaming face, and then up to the emperor, who was standing smilingly in his box, and the empress, from whose eyes two large tears rolled down her pale cheeks; and with one accord the vast crowd commenced singing:
"Gott erhalte Franz den Kaiser,
Unsern guten Kaiser Franz!
Lange lebe Franz der Kaiser
In des Glueckes hellem Kranz!
Ihm erbluehen Lorbeerreiser,
Wo er geht, zum Ehrenkranz.
Gott erhalte—"
[Footnote:
"God preserve the emperor
Francis, our good emperor!
Long live Francis, brightest gem
In fair Fortune's diadem
O'er him see the laurel wave,
Honoring the true, the brave!
God preserve—">[
Haydn's hands dropped exhausted from the keys; his form rocked to and fro, and, half fainting, he sank back into the arms of Salieri and Kreutzer.
The audience paused; all forgot the imperial hymn, and looked only at the venerable old maestro, whom Salieri and Kreutzer lowered now softly into the easy-chair, which had been brought to them.
"Take me home, dear ones," he said, faintly, "sing on, my 'Creation'; my soul will remain with you, but my body can no longer stay. Old age has broken its strength. Farewell, farewell, all of you! My soul will always be among you when you sing my music; my body will go, but the soul will remain. Farewell!"
And the votaries of art who had conveyed him to the hall now placed the maestro's chair again on their shoulders, and carried it slowly through the hall toward the entrance.