I have safely received your precious epistle--thistle, and from it
I perceive--achieve, that my aunt--gaunt, and you--shoe, are quite
well--bell. I have to-day a letter--setter, from my papa--ah-ha, safe in
my hands--sands. I hope you also got--trot, my Mannheim letter--setter.
Now for a little sense--pence. The prelate's seizure--leisure, grieves
me much--touch, but he will, I hope, get well--sell. You write--blight,
you will keep--cheap, your promise to write to me--he-he, to Augsburg
soon--spoon. Well, I shall be very glad--mad. You further write, indeed
you declare, you pretend, you hint, you vow, you explain, you distinctly
say, you long, you wish, you desire, you choose, command, and point
out, you let me know and inform me that I must send you my portrait
soon--moon. Eh, bien! you shall have it before long--song. Now I wish
you good night--tight.
The 5th.--Yesterday I conversed with the illustrious Electress; and
to-morrow, the 6th, I am to play in the gala concert, and afterwards, by
desire of the Princess, in their private apartments. Now for something
rational! I beg of you--why not?--I beg of you, my very dear cousin--why
not?--when you write to Madame Tavernier in Munich, to convey a message
from me to the two Demoiselles Freysinger--why not? odd enough! but why
not?--and I humbly ask pardon of Madlle. Josepha--I mean the youngest,
and pray why not? why should I not ask her pardon? strange! but I don't
know why I should not, so I do ask her pardon very humbly--for not
having yet sent the sonata I promised her, but I mean to do so as
soon as possible. Why not? I don't know why not. I can now write no
more--which makes my heart sore. To all my kind friends much love--dove.
Addio! Your old young, till death--breath,