48.
Milan, Dec. 18, 1772.
I HOPE, dear sister, that you are well, dear sister. When this letter
reaches you, dear sister, my opera will be in scena, dear sister. Think
of me, dear sister, and try, dear sister, to imagine with all your might
that my dear sister sees and hears it also. In truth, it is hard to say,
as it is now eleven o'clock at night, but I do believe, and don't at
all doubt, that in the daytime it is brighter than at Easter. My dear
sister, to-morrow we dine with Herr von Mayer; and do you know why?
Guess! Because he invited us. The rehearsal to-morrow is to be in the
theatre. The impresario, Signor Cassiglioni, has entreated me not to say
a word of this to a soul, as all kinds of people would come crowding in,
and that we don't wish. So, my child, I beg, my child, that you won't
say one syllable to any one on the subject, or too many people would
come crowding in, my child. Approposito, do you know the history
that occurred here? Well, I will relate it to you. We were going home
straight from Count Firmiani's, and when we came into our street we
opened our door, and what do you think happened? We went in. Good-bye,
my pet. Your unworthy brother (frater),