The heart shows the true nobleman, and, although I am no Count, I am more honourable perhaps than many a Count; and whether it be a footman or a Count, whoever insults me is a scoundrel. I shall begin by representing to him how low and ungentlemanly his conduct was; but I shall conclude by telling him that he may certainly expect a thrashing from me the first time I meet him.
His father having remarked that the matter might perhaps be arranged by the intervention of a lady or of some other person of rank, Mozart answered that this was not necessary: "I shall take counsel only of my good sense and my heart, and shall do what is right and proper." It was only with reluctance, and because he saw no other way of pacifying his father, that he consented to forego the threatening letter to Count Arco.
CHAPTER XXIV. FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA.
WHEN Mozart's withdrawal from the service of the Archbishop had become an established fact, the latter was anxious to show the world that it lay in his power to attract equally distinguished artists to his service, and he offered a salary of one thousand gulden to Leop. Kozeluch, who was considered the first clavier-player in Vienna, if he would come to Salzburg. Kozeluch refused, as Mozart wrote to his father (July 4, 1781), because he was better off in Vienna, and he had said to his friends: "The affair with Mozart is what chiefly alarms me; if he could let such a man as that leave him, what would become of me?"
L. Mozart, much against his will, was obliged to reconcile himself to the step his son had taken.[ 1 ] He was full of WORK IN VIENNA, 1781. anxiety, caused by his conviction of Wolfgang's incapacity in matters relating to his own advancement, by his fear lest he should not be able to withstand the seductions of the pleasure-loving capital, and also, perhaps, by an unconscious feeling of annoyance at his son's independent demeanour. This caused him to express his affectionate and really justifiable concern in so perverse a manner that, instead of lightening Wolfgang's difficult position, he embittered his life with reproaches and objections, which were generally exaggerated, and often entirely unreasonable; for he was weak enough to place easy faith in rumours and gossip. He had so long been accustomed to undertake the care of all Wolfgang's affairs that he could not bring himself quietly to resign all interference in them. Mozart did not allow himself to be over-persuaded; he held fast to his independence, as well as to his reverence and love for his father, whose reproofs and accusations he repeatedly disclaimed.
At first, indeed, the father's gloomy forebodings seemed more likely to be verified than the brilliant hopes of the son. Summer had arrived, most of the nobility had gone to their country seats, and there was little to be done in the way of lessons or concerts. The Countess Rumbeck (née Cobenzl), who was afterwards considered a first-rate clavier-player,[ 2 ] remained his only pupil, since he would not abate his price of six ducats; but he managed to exist in spite of all. He consoled himself by the reflection that it was the dull season, and that he must employ his leisure by preparing for the winter. He worked diligently at six sonatas for the clavier, which were to be published by subscription; the Countess Thun and other ladies of rank undertook to collect subscriptions. They secured seventeen during the summer, and hoped for more in the autumn. He set to work to arrange a concert to be given during Advent; Rossi wrote the words for an Italian cantata which was to be composed for the occasion. But what lay nearest his heart was the composition of an opera in Vienna; his conviction of his vocation as a dramatic composer having been strengthened FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. by the performances at the Vienna theatre, and the lively interest taken in them by the public. "My only entertainment," he writes to his sister (July 4, 1781), "consists in the theatre. I wish you could see a tragedy performed here! I know no other theatre where every kind of play is given to perfection. Every part, even the smallest and the worst, is well filled." The performances of the Vienna stage had, in point of fact, reached the highest level of excellence known at that time.[ 3 ]
Since the time when the stage had joined in the struggle which ended in the triumph of German literature and art over buffoonery and extemporised pieces, the theatre had remained the gathering-point of literary interests. The best authors of the day wrote for the stage with the avowed object of improving taste and aiding the spread of culture; such were Klemm, Heufeld, Ayrenhoff, and Gebler, and their efforts were ably seconded by such actors as Müller and the brothers Stephanie.[ 4 ]
The new and difficult task appointed for them spurred the actors to extraordinary efforts. A general feeling of sympathy and esteem began to replace the contempt in which the dramatic art had been held, and the stage was soon looked upon as the gauge of a nation's moral and intellectual cultivation. This elevation of the art as a whole benefited the artists as individuals, the interdict which society had laid upon them was removed, and actors became favoured members of the best and most cultivated circles.[ 5 ] The Vienna theatre in especial, since Joseph II. in the year 1776 had saved it from the weakening influence of variable private patronage, and had constituted it the court and national theatre, had rapidly reached to an unprecedented height of excellence. This monarch looked upon the theatre as an important means of national cultivation, took a lively interest in it, and shared himself in its practical management; he also watched over the talents and the destinies THE VIENNA STAGE. of his actors with shrewd penetration and warm sympathy.[ 6 ] He was careful, by lowering the prices of admission,[ 7 ] to make attendance at the theatre more general than it had hitherto been; and an entertainment, which had borne almost exclusively the character of a court festival or an assembly of persons of rank, was thus placed within the reach of the citizen class.[ 8 ] Literary criticism too, let loose by the introduction of the liberty of the press, turned its attention to the drama, and enlightened the general reader on the quality of the entertainment afforded to him by the author and by the actor. In this way a public was educated without reference to rank or class, to whom the poet and musician could appeal as an independent artist, instead of ministering as heretofore exclusively to the entertainment of his patrons—a state of affairs which must have had important influence on the position of artists, more especially of musicians.
