I write that I can do it better here than in Salzburg? I beseech you, my dear, good father, write me no more such letters, for they serve no purpose but to annoy and trouble me; and if I am to go on composing as I do, I must keep a cool head and a calm mind.
He sent his father at the same time thirty ducats, with an apology for not being able to spare more at present, and in following years we find repeated mention of money sent home.
It had been reported to L. Mozart that Wolfgang was living a somewhat dissipated life in Vienna; Herr von Moll, in particular, "made a wry face, and said he hoped he would soon come to himself and return to Salzburg, for he only remained in Vienna for the sake of bad connections." It was reported to his father that Wolfgang had had dealings with a person of bad reputation, but he was able to reassure his father on this point. L. Mozart had been rendered uneasy, too, on the subject of his son's attention to religious duties. Wolfgang begs him to be under no apprehension, he is, no doubt, "a foolish young fellow," but he would wish for his consolation that no one was more so than he. Eating meat on fast-days he thought no sin, "for fasting I consider to be abstaining—eating less than at other times," but he never made a boast of this; he heard mass every Sunday and holy-day, and as often as possible on ordinary days. "Altogether you may rest assured that I have not deserted my religion. You, perhaps, believe things of me that are not true, for my chief fault is that I cannot always act in RELEASE. appearance as I ought to act" (June 13, 1781). Wolfgang's renewed intercourse with the Weber family appeared to his father of ill omen; he dreaded another love affair. This also his son repudiates (May 16, 1781):—
What you write concerning the Weber family is, I assure you, without foundation. I was a fool about Madame Lange, that is true; but who is not when he is in love? I loved her in very deed, and I still feel that she is not altogether indifferent to me. Luckily for me her husband is a jealous fool, and never leaves her alone, so that I rarely see her. Believe me also that old Madame Weber is a very obliging person, and that I only fail in showing her the attention her obligingness deserves; I have not time for it.
When finally his father went so far as to demand that Wolfgang should sacrifice his honour by recalling his resignation, he answered in the full consciousness of the justice of his position (May 19, 1781):—
I scarcely know how to write to you, my dear father, for I cannot recover from my astonishment, and I shall never be able to do so as long as you continue so to write and to think. I must acknowledge that I scarcely recognise my father in some of the passages of your letter! It is a father who writes, certainly, but not the best, most loving father, the one most anxious for his own honour and that of his children—in a word, not my father. But it must have been a dream. You are awake by this time, and need no reply from me on the various points of your letter in order to be convinced that I cannot, now less than ever, depart from my resolution. You say the only way to preserve my honour is to renounce my intention. How can you utter such a contradiction? You could not have realised, in writing this, that such a renunciation would turn me into one of the most cowardly fellows in the world. All Vienna knows that I have left the Archbishop, knows the reason to be my injured honour, knows of the thrice-repeated insults of the Archbishop; and am I all at once to retract my word and belie myself? Shall I announce myself as a scoundrel, and the Archbishop as a worthy prince? The first no man shall ever do, and I least of all; and the second no one can do but God himself, if He should deign to enlighten him. To please you, my dear father, I would renounce my happiness, my health, and life itself, but my honour comes before all with me, and so it must with you. My dearest, best of fathers, demand of me what you will, only not that—anything but that. The very thought makes me tremble with rage.
The Archbishop was not a little taken aback by the firmness with which Mozart held to his resolve, but which he COUNT ARCO INSULTS MOZART. only strengthened by his continual abuse, without bringing the Viennese round to his side. They all looked upon him as a "haughty, ill-bred priest, despised by everybody," while Mozart was "an agreeable fellow." The Archbishop imagined that Mozart's father would bring his son to a sense of his duty; Count Arco, who had received a letter from the elder Mozart, proposed an interview, in the hope of persuading him in a friendly way. Mozart remained all the firmer when he had convinced himself that his father in Salzburg had nothing to fear. He begged for an audience to take leave, but this was three times refused, because it was feared to irritate the Archbishop, and Mozart's submission was still hoped for. The latter was beside himself when he heard that the Archbishop was to leave next day, and that he had not been informed of it. He drew up a fresh memorial, in which he explained that he had waited four weeks for a final audience; as this had been postponed so long from reasons unknown to him, he had no resource but to beg for it himself at the last moment. When he found himself in the antechamber, in pursuance of this intention (June 8), and prayed for an audience, Count Arco put the finishing touch to the brutalities suffered by Mozart. After loading him with abusive epithets, he pushed him towards the door with his foot! "This happened in the antechamber—there was therefore nothing for it but to make my escape, for I did not wish to forget the respect due to the Prince's apartments, although Arco had done so." Whether this affront was offered by command of the Archbishop, Mozart did not know certainly; but, in any case, the servant was worthy of his master, and neither of them could foresee the ineffaceable stigma that would thereby be attached to their names. Mozart boiled over with rage; he answered his father that he should return the insult in kind the next time he met Count Arco, even if it were in the public streets:—
I shall demand no satisfaction at the hands of the Archbishop, for he would not be in a position to offer it me in the way that I shall take it; but I shall at once write to the Count what he has to expect from me the first time I am so fortunate as to meet him, wherever it may be, unless it should be some place to which I owe respect.
The father was alarmed at such threats addressed to a nobleman; but Wolfgang answered (July 20, 1781):—