YOUR ROYAL HIGHNESS,--
I live--how?--the life of a snail. The unfavorable weather constantly throws me back, and at these baths it is impossible to command one's natural strength. A few days ago, Nägeli, a musical author and poet of considerable repute, wrote to me from Zurich; he is about to publish 200 poems, and among these some are suitable for musical composition. He urged me much to apply to Y.R.H. to request that you would be graciously pleased to subscribe to this collection. The price is very moderate, 20 groschen, or 1 florin 80 kreutzers. Were Y.R.H. to subscribe for six copies, it would immediately be noised abroad, although I am well aware that my illustrious master does not care for anything of the kind; it will suffice for the present if Y.R.H. will condescend to inform me of your will on the subject. The money can be paid when the copies arrive, probably a couple of months hence. I have conveyed Herr Nägeli's request, and now I must ask another favor, on his account, from myself. Everything cannot be measured by line and plummet; but Wieland says: "A little book may be well worth a few groschen." Will Y.R.H. therefore honor these poems by permitting your august name to be prefixed to them, as a token of your sympathy for the benefit of this man? the work is not likely to be quite devoid of value. Being convinced of Y.R.H.'s interest in all that is noble and beautiful, I hope I shall not fail in my intercession for Nägeli, and I beg that Y.R.H. will give me a written permission to inform Nägeli that you will be one of his subscribers.
I remain, with all dutiful fidelity and devotion, your R. Highness's obedient servant,
BEETHOVEN.
386.
TO HIS NEPHEW.
Baden, August 29, 1824.
MY DEAR YOUNG SCAMP,--
How active our mahogany Holz [wood] is! My plans are decided. We will give the present quartet to Artaria, and the last to Peters. You see I have learned something; I now perceive why I first explored the path; it was for your sake, that you might find it smooth. My digestion is terribly out of order, and no physician! I wish to have some ready-made pens, so send some in a letter. Don't write to Peters on Saturday; we had better wait a little, to show him our indifference on the subject.
Since yesterday I have only taken some soup, and a couple of eggs, and drank nothing but water; my tongue is discolored; and without medicine and tonics, whatever my farcical doctor may say, my digestion will never improve.
The third quartet [in C sharp minor, Op. 131] also contains six movements, and will certainly be finished in ten or twelve days at most. Continue to love me, my dear boy; if I ever cause you pain, it is not from a wish to grieve you, but for your eventual benefit. I now conclude. I embrace you cordially. All I wish is that you should be loving, industrious, and upright. Write to me, my dear son. I regret all the trouble I give you, but it will not go on long. Holz seems inclined to become our friend. I expect a letter soon from [illegible].