The charm is not broken by the occurrence of sharper discords than are usual with Mozart; but they are both MANNHEIM. appropriately placed, and in full harmony with the tone of the whole.
The song gives a favourable indication of the powers of the singer. The style is simple and sustained throughout, varied by original and expressive embellishments, and at the close by a couple of quick runs going up to—[See Page Image]
It excites no small astonishment to find such capabilities of voice, execution, and delivery in a girl of fifteen. Mozart composed the same song again for the bass singer Fischer, in March, 1787 (512 K.). The construction of the song is, as the words require, the same, but the treatment is as different as possible. This time the true sense of the dramatic situation is grasped; a man, a ruler, who has a long life's experience behind him, feels his strong mind moved to a tenderness which he cannot understand, and which therefore troubles him; he seeks to resist it, but falls ever again under its irresistible sway. The sense of surprise and passionate resistance is powerfully rendered, and many passages—"Quel gel che scorrendo le vene mi và," for instance—are of wonderful power and beauty. In fact, the song presupposes the union of strength and softness, flexibility of voice and cultivated delivery, which existed to perfection in Fischer; it might be said as truly of him as of Mdlle. Weber, that the song fitted him like a garment.
Mozart's change of determination with regard to the Parisian journey is easily explained by the light of his love for Mdlle. Weber, although he was far from acknowledging this, even to himself. No doubt he was sincere in writing to his father (February 4, 1778): "It is out of the question for me to travel with a man who leads a life of which the youngest among us would be ashamed, and the thought of assisting a poor family, without doing harm to myself, pleases me to the very depths of my soul." He longed ardently to liberate the Weber family from their trying position; but love for his Aloysia was the most powerful, although the secret motive. The direction of his thoughts MOZART AND THE WEBERS. may be gathered from his remarks on the wealthy marriage made by his friend Herr von Schiedenhofen (February 7, 1778):—
It is a mercenary marriage, and nothing further. I would not marry in that way; I should like to make my wife happy, and not expect to make my fortune through her. So I will let it alone for the present, and enjoy my freedom, until I can afford to support a wife and family. It was necessary for Herr von Schiedenhofen to choose a rich wife for the sake of his title. The nobility can never marry from inclination or love, but only from interest and various considerations; it would not become such high personages to love their wives when once they have brought into the world a fat little son and heir. But we poor common folk, not only may we take a wife whom we love, and who loves us, but we ought, can, and will take such an one; for we are not nobly born, aristocratic, or rich, but lowly, mean, and poor, and so not needing a rich wife; our wealth dies with us, for it is in our brains—and no one can take it from us, unless he cut off our head—and then we should not want anything more.
The father must have shaken his head at this diatribe. Wolfgang's wish at least to live in the neighbourhood of Aloysia, until he could call her his own, was joined to his irresistible impulse to compose operas. In order to attain both these ends he had conceived a project which would, he supposed, be of equal advantage to her family and his own. The Webers were quite ready to fall in with what was clearly to their advantage, and it only remained to obtain the consent of Wolfgang's father to his remaining in Mannheim and completing the compositions he had undertaken:—
At the same time Herr Weber will be exerting himself to get concert engagements for himself and me; we shall travel together, too. Travelling with him will be just the same as travelling with you. In fact, the reason I like him so much is that, excepting in appearance, he resembles you entirely; his temper and turn of mind are identical with yours. If my mother were not, as you know, averse to much writing, she would say the same thing. I must acknowledge that I enjoyed travelling with the Webers; we were happy together, and merry; and I had the satisfaction of conversing with a man like yourself. I had no need to trouble myself about anything; if anything was torn I found it mended; in fact, I was treated like a prince. This oppressed family has become so dear to me that it is my greatest wish to make them happy—which is perhaps in my power. My advice is that they should go to Italy. You would be doing me a great favour if you would write as soon as possible to our MANNHEIM. good friend Lugiati (p. 108), and inquire from him what is the highest sum paid to a prima donna in Verona—the higher the better, for it is easy to lower one's terms—and perhaps she could get a better engagement afterwards in Venice. I will stake my life on her singing, and I know that she does me honour. She has profited much by my instruction, even in this short time, and I have not much doubt as to her acting powers.
If all this takes place, we—that is, M. Weber, his two daughters and I—shall have the honour of paying a passing visit in a fortnight or so, to my dear father and my dear sister, and my sister will find a friend and companion; she enjoys the same reputation here on account of her good bringing up as my sister does in Salzburg; her father is respected as mine is; and the whole family is like the Mozart family. This arouses envy in the same way, of course; but when it comes to the point the most envious are obliged to speak the truth; honesty is the best policy. I cannot tell you how pleased I should be to bring them to Salsburg, only that you might hear her.
She sings my songs written for De Amicis—the bravura songs, as well as "Parto m' affretto" and "Dalla sponda tenebrosa"—quite superbly. I beg that you will do your best to help us to go to Italy; you know my greatest ambition—to write operas. I would gladly write an opera for thirty sequins at Verona, that she might gain reputation by it; for if I had not written it I fear she would be sacrificed. In the meantime I shall make so much money by the expeditions I shall make with them that I shall not be in any way injured. I think we shall go to Switzerland, perhaps also to Holland; write to me soon about it. If it all comes to pass, the other daughter, who is the elder, will be very useful, for she cooks well, and we can keep house for ourselves. I only beg you not to delay answering me. Do not forget my wish to write operas! I am jealous of every one who writes one; I could weep for vexation when I hear or see an aria. But Italian, not German; seria, not buffa!
Now I have laid open my whole heart to you, and my mother is quite of my way of thinking. I kiss your hand a thousand times, and am, till death, your obedient son.