Another chance of such a fixed situation as his father was continually urging upon him to secure offered itself through Prince Aloys Liechtenstein, the eldest son of the reigning prince, whose income was estimated at 900,000 imperial CONCERTS, LESSONS, AND COMPOSITIONS. gulden.[ 49 ] He proposed enrolling a band of wind instruments in his service, and wished to engage Mozart to arrange pieces for it. For this he could not expect a high salary, but it would be a certain one, for he had quite resolved to accept none but a permanent engagement. But this hope, too, was disappointed,[ 50 ] and he continued to exist on the uncertain proceeds of lessons, concerts, and composition.
The state of affairs improved somewhat in the winter. He had constant pupils in the Countess Rumbeck and Frau von Trattnem, to whom was added later the Countess Zichy. He gave each of them a lesson daily, and received six ducats for twelve, which sufficed for absolute necessities. Six sonatas for clavier and violin, for which his patronesses had opened a subscription of three ducats, were completed and printed in November, 1781.[ 51 ]
In Lent he gave a concert, at which, following the advice of his patrons, he played selections from "Idomeneo" and his concerto in D major (175 K.), for which he had composed a new rondo (382 K.). The rondo "made a great sensation," and was sent to Salzburg, with a request that it might be treasured as a jewel. "I wrote it especially for myself, and no one else shall play it except my dear sister" (March 2, 1782). As a conclusion he played a fantasia. He had been advised to do this because he would be thereby most certain of outrivalling Clementi, who was giving a concert at about the same time.[ 52 ] Mozart had plenty of invitations to play at other people's concerts and in society, on which occasions a new composition had generally to be written. At Auernhammer's concert, for instance, he played with the daughter a "sonata for two" (381 K.), which he FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. had composed on purpose, and which "was a great success" (November 24, 1781). He wrote easier pieces for his pupils. "I must close my letter" he writes (June 20, 1781), "for I have to prepare some variations for a pupil"; and soon after he wrote to his sister (July 4, 1781): "I have written three airs with variations, which are not worth the trouble of sending alone. I will wait until there is something to accompany them."
His time was fully occupied, therefore, and he had no difficulty in proving the injustice of his sister's reproaches to him for not writing oftener (February 13, 1782):—
You must not conclude that you do not give me pleasure by writing to me because I do not always answer you. I always look forward with great pleasure to receiving a letter from you, my dear sister. If I were not prevented by pressing engagements, God knows I would always answer you. Is it true that I have never answered you? It certainly has not been from forgetfulness nor carelessness, but from simple impossibility! Bad enough, you will say, but do I write often, even to my father? You both know Vienna. You ought to know that a man who has no regular income must work day and night in such a city. Our father, when he has finished his church service, and you, when you have dismissed your few pupils, can do as you like all the rest of the day, and you may write letters long enough to contain the whole litany, if you like; but I can do no such thing. I gave my father a description of my mode of life a short time ago. I will repeat it for you now. At six o'clock my barber comes, at seven I am dressed, and write until nine. From nine o'clock till one I give lessons, then I dine, if I am not invited out, in which case we dine at two or even three o'clock, as we shall to-day and to-morrow at the Countess Zichy's and Countess Thun's. I cannot begin to work again till five or six o'clock, and am often even then prevented by a concert; if not, I write. The continual concerts, and the uncertainty as to whether I shall be called away here or there, prevent my writing in the evening; so it is my custom (especially when I come home early) to compose something before I go to bed. I often write on until one o'clock, and am up again at six! My dearest sister, if you really believe that I can forget you or my father, then—but no! God knows it, and that is enough for me; let Him punish me if I ever forget you.
Instances are not wanting of his affection and thought for his father and sister. He sends his father (March 23, 1782) a snuffbox and a pair of watch ribbons: "The snuffbox is a good one, and the picture on it is from an English story; PERFORMANCE OF THE "ENTFÜHRUNG," JULY, 1782. the watch ribbons are not very valuable, but they are high fashion here just now." He did not buy either of them, he adds for his father's consolation, but was presented with them by Count Szapary. To his sister also he sent different bits of finery, and begged her to intrust him with any commission in Vienna; he also testified the warmest sympathy in her love affairs. He did not forget his old Salzburg friends in Vienna—begs for news of them from his sister, "the walking register of Salzburg," and wished still to be considered as an active member of the quoit club.
During these manifold occupations the opera had still the first place in his thoughts, but it was at a standstill owing to the production of Gluck's two operas and the numerous alterations which were necessary in the libretto; he hoped that it would be ready for representation, however, directly after Easter. This was not the case, but on May 8 he writes: "Yesterday I was with the Countess Thun, and ran over the second act for her; she is as pleased with it as she was with the first"; and on May 29: "Next Monday is to be the first rehearsal; I must admit that I am delighted with this opera."
And he had good cause to be so, for its ultimate success was assured. But he had to fight against strong cabals, and it needed the express command of the Emperor to bring the opera to performance on July 13. High as had been the expectations of the public, they were fully justified by the result. "The house was crammed full, there was no end to the applause and cheering, and performances followed one another in quick succession."[ 53 ] After having given his father a short account of the first performance, he reports more fully on the second (July 20, 1782):—
Yesterday my opera was given for the second time. Can you believe that the opposition was even stronger than on the first evening? The whole of the first act was drowned, but they could not prevent the bravos after every song. My hope was in the closing terzet, but FIRST ATTEMPTS IN VIENNA. Fischer had been rendered nervous, and went wrong, as did Dauer, and Adamberger alone could not put things right; so that the whole effect was lost; and this time it was not encored. I was beside myself with rage, and so was Adamberger; we agreed that the opera should not be given again without a rehearsal for the singers. In the second act the two duets were encored, and also Belmonte's rondo, "Wenn der Freude Thranen fliessen," &c. The theatre was almost more crowded than on the first performance; the day before not a seat was to be had either on the noble parterre or in the third story, and not a single box. The opera has brought twelve hundred florins in the two days.
In the next letter (July 27, 1782), he continues:—