[Illustration: musical notation]
That’s a flourish of trumpets joyfully announcing that you have at last
consented to come. It is too delightful to think that we are going to
see you and have you here; and what spirits the bare thought puts me
in, I need not say. A few lines are enough for to-day; all that is good,
the very best, is to come in a fortnight. _Tromba da capo._
In fact, I only write that you may answer and let me know exactly what I
am to do for you here. First, have you quite decided to stay in a hotel
(my offer does not seem acceptable to you), and should I not rather take
rooms for you by the week? To do so, I ought to know the day of your
arrival, and what accommodation you require. Secondly, you speak of
putting yourself on good terms with the singers. Have you any special
wish that I can communicate to Count Redern in reference to performers
or programme? What do you say to having your Symphony performed? but
then the whole orchestra should be on the stage, and you should conduct.
Thirdly, I will see Count Redern to-day and let him know the good news
that you have decided on coming. He must have the newspaper
advertisements inserted, and I shall recall to his memory the
“appropriate and interesting piece” to be performed. Fourthly, you say:
“What piano? that is the question!” I answer: “There be none of Beauty’s
daughters with a magic like Erard’s.” Now, my instrument left Hamburg a
week ago. I expect it every minute; and as you have already played upon
it at your concert in London, I should take it as a great kindness and a
good omen if you would inaugurate it here in public. That the instrument
is good, you know; so pray say, “Yes.” But if perchance you would
rather not, then there is my youngest sister’s new piano that is to
arrive to-morrow or the day after,--a “Graf,” which they write wonders
about from Vienna. She sends you word that it would be conferring the
greatest favor on her, on the piano, and on Mr. Graf, if you would be
the first to play upon it in public here. In addition to this, I know
for a certainty that all the Berlin pianoforte-makers will besiege your
door and go down on their knees to you. There are pear-shaped
instruments; there are some with three legs; some with a pedal for
transposing and with a small writing-desk inside; some with four
strings, others with only one; giraffe or pocket size; black, white, and
green. You will have the trouble and toil of selection, so you will have
full scope for reflection. Where then is the question?
Now I understand what you say about Music and the great brotherhood of
grumblers. Much obliged, but I am not composing at all, and am living
much as an asparagus does; I am very comfortable doing nothing. When you
come I shall feel quite ashamed at not having anything new to show you;
upon my word, I shall not know what to say if you ask me what I have
been doing ever since I came here. But, hush! I turn over the paper, and
there I encounter the threatening figure of Mrs. Moscheles. Scold, but
listen! Do you think that mine is a sort of drawing-room melancholy such
as grown-up spoilt children indulge in? Don’t you know that I only
wrote so stupidly because I was so stupid? But pardon me, I shall come
round again, and by the time you arrive all melancholy will have
vanished. You will find neither a discontented creature nor a spoilt
child in me, and certainly not a genius; nothing but high spirits will
greet you; and, to show that you are not angry, you must at once accept
an invitation to a _fête_ to be held in my rooms in honor of Moscheles.
Several ladies have already promised to come; we will have music, and it
will be grand.
A happy meeting then,--but you, O Moscheles, let me have one more answer
by letter, and soon after a much nicer one by word of mouth.
Yours,