I am heartily glad that you have had so much amusement. Perhaps you may
think that I have not been as merry as you; but, indeed, I cannot sum
up all we have done. I think we have been at least six or seven times at
the opera and the feste di ballo, which, as in Vienna, begin after the
opera, but with this difference, that at Vienna the dancing is more
orderly. We also saw the facchinata and chiccherata. The first is
a masquerade, an amusing sight, because the men go as facchini, or
porters; there was also a barca filled with people, and a great number
on foot besides; and five or six sets of trumpets and kettledrums,
besides several bands of violins and other instruments. The chiccherata
is also a masquerade. What the people of Milan call chicchere, we call
petits maitres, or fops. They were all on horseback, which was a pretty
sight. I am as happy now to hear that Herr von Aman [Footnote: The
father had written in a previous letter, "Herr von Aman's accident,
of which you wrote to us, not only distressed us very much, but cost
Wolfgang many tears. You know how sensitive he is"] is better, as I was
grieved when you mentioned that he had met with an accident. What
kind of mask did Madame Rosa wear, and Herr von Molk, and Herr von
Schiedenhofen? Pray write this to me, if you know it; your doing so will
oblige me very much. Kiss mamma's hands for me a thousand million times,
and a thousand to yourself from "Catch him who can!" Why, here he is!
8.
Bologna, March 24, 1770.
Oh, you busy creature!
Having been so long idle, I thought it would do me no harm to set to
work again for a short time. On the post-days, when the German letters
come, all that I eat and drink tastes better than usual. I beg you will
let me know who are to sing in the oratorio, and also its title. Let me
hear how you like the Haydn minuets, and whether they are better than
the first. From my heart I rejoice to hear that Herr von Aman is now
quite recovered; pray say to him that he must take great care of himself
and beware of any unusual exertion. Be sure you tell him this. I intend
shortly to send you a minuet that Herr Pick danced on the stage, and
which every one in Milan was dancing at the feste di ballo, only
that you may see by it how slowly people dance. The minuet itself is
beautiful. Of course it comes from Vienna, so no doubt it is either
Teller's or Starzer's. It has a great many notes. Why? Because it is a
theatrical minuet, which is in slow time. The Milan and Italian minuets,
however, have a vast number of notes, and are slow and with a quantity
of bars; for instance, the first part has sixteen, the second twenty,
and even twenty-four.
We made the acquaintance of a singer in Parma, and also heard her to
great advantage in her own house--I mean the far-famed Bastardella. She
has, first, a fine voice; second, a flexible organ; third, an incredibly
high compass. She sang the following notes and passages in my presence.
[Here, Mozart illustrates with about 20 measures of music]
9.
Rome, April 14, 1770.
I AM thankful to say that my stupid pen and I are all right, so we send
a thousand kisses to you both. I wish that my sister were in Rome,
for this city would assuredly delight her, because St. Peter's is
symmetrical, and many other things in Rome are also symmetrical. Papa
has just told me that the loveliest flowers are being carried past at
this moment. That I am no wiseacre is pretty well known.
Oh! I have one annoyance--there is only a single bed in our lodgings,
so mamma may easily imagine that I get no rest beside papa. I rejoice at
the thoughts of a new lodging. I have just finished sketching St. Peter
with his keys, St. Paul with his sword, and St. Luke with--my sister,
&c., &c. I had the honor of kissing St. Peter's foot at San Pietro, and
as I have the misfortune to be so short, your good old