This anger of the eternally-young and eternally-bold genius now burst forth from Haydn’s eyes, and restored to his whole bearing the vigor and elasticity of youth.
Leaning far out of the window, he beckoned the people with both arms, while they were looking up to him and waving their hats to salute him.
“Sing, people of Vienna!” he shouted, “oh, sing our favorite hymn!”
The music had just ceased, and Joseph Haydn now commenced singing in a loud, ringing voice, “GOTT ERHALTE FRANZ DEN KAISER, UNSERN GUTEN KAISER FRANZ!”
And thousands of voices sang and shouted all at once, “GOTT ERHALTE FRAN DEN KAISER, UNSERN GUTEN KAISER FRANZ!”
Joseph Haydn stood at the window, and moved his arm as though he were standing before his orchestra and leading his choir.
The people sang their favorite hymn louder and more jubilantly, and to the notes of this prayer of a whole people, of this jubilant hymn, by which the Viennese honored their unfortunate, vanquished emperor in the face of the conquering army, the French marched up the road toward the interior of the city.
Joseph Haydn was still at the window; he led the choir no longer; he sang no more. He had folded his hands and listened to the majestic anthem of the people, and the tears, filling his eyes, glistened like diamonds.
The people continued shouting and singing, in spite of the French, the hymn of “GOTT ERHALTE FRANZ DEN KAISER, UNSERN GUTEN KAISER FRANZ!”
And the victorious French marched silently through the opened ranks of the people.