MAESTRO, I understand your agitation, yet it does no good to vent your wrath on me. I am neither your nephew nor his crude companion Niemetz but your devoted friend Holz. Apart from an ardent desire to marry my fiancée next month and to hold my job at the Chancellery, my only object at present is to help you find your nephew.
I am not disputing that. However, just because Karl told his landlord on Thursday that he planned to shoot himself by Sunday, doesn’t make it a fait accompli. Sunday has scarcely begun! Besides, not only were the pistols confiscated by the landlord, but Karl told me on Friday he had every intention of returning to his room.
Since we have no other clues, it behooves us to go there at once and question the landlord.
Regardless of whether the man is a churchgoer, early Mass will be over by the time we reach his house.
We are wasting time—let us be off.
• • •
Revered Composer, unfortunately your nephew did not sleep in his room last night; indeed I have not seen him since Friday morning.
For your sake and, I may say, his I’m terribly sorry that this distressing business continues.—As for the receipt for July’s room and board, I have written out a copy for you and marked it paid in full.
Would that I had somewhere else to suggest. Unless—perhaps he is with that disreputable friend of his—Yes, without question I would look for him there, I mean at Mrs. Niemetz’s.
May God be with you.
• • •
Maestro, Mrs. Niemetz asserts he is not in the house.
She insists she hasn’t seen him since Thursday when he spent the night.
Please calm yourself!
Depravity aside, the woman is old enough to be Karl’s mother.
I didn’t know that he had stayed overnight once before. Still, only a Secret Agent would enter by force.
I did indeed ask to speak to the son; she said he was sleeping.
She refused to wake him.
I have no reason to doubt her word; after all, she didn’t say he was attending church.
Sometimes women of her type are more truthful than women of virtue.
Your sister-in-law excepted, naturally. In her case—Heavens! we haven’t looked for Karl at the most likely place of all, his mother’s house. Let us go there at once!
If you won’t cross her threshold, you could wait in the bakery across the street.
Then by all means come with me to the door.
In any case it needn’t be decided now.
Come, we are wasting time; you’ll make up your mind along the way.
• • •
God be thanked, Maestro, Karl is here
Unfortunately he has already made good on his threat.
He is not dead.
In the bedroom with his mother. She urges you to come into the house.
Presumably she has no objection to your seeing him, but only a moment.
• • •
Please, Uncle, it’s useless to ask why. I wrote you a letter last night—Niemetz will soon deliver it.
Please don’t kneel beside the bed—it’s too pathetic.
To you—I hardly did it to you! I am the one with a bullet in his head.
For God’s sake, don’t torment me with tears and reproaches. It’s done! “What’s done is done.” What’s needed now is a surgeon, in particular a man who knows how to hold his tongue.
Mother has already sent for someone.
Naturally, Ludwig, a doctor was sent for at once.
No, not Smetana—I sent for Dr. Dogl.
He is just as respected as S. and lives much nearer.
Shh! let us step out—Karl must rest.
• • •
Ludwig, do sit down until the doctor comes. You look so pale—would you like a schnapps?
I understand—But even so, it’s eleven years since your brother died in this house.
Be still! I will not discuss the matter in front of a stranger—please send Mr. Holz out of the room.
It makes no difference that Holz obliged—I will not discuss the matter under any circumstances.
Come to your senses—my son is dying
Not again! Instead of fabricating my part in your brother’s death, you would do better to ponder yours in your nephew’s suicide.
Spare me that shit—I won’t hear another word!
• • •
Maestro, not only does she refuse to rejoin you, but she demands that you leave the house.
If you won’t apologize, at least refrain from speaking of your brother’s death.
Do lower your voice or she’ll hear you.
I’m not taking her part. Yet after what has happened, it’s essential for you to cooperate with her; otherwise you will be the one to suffer.
Well and good, I’ll try to smooth things over.
• • •
Ludwig, before we go on I’ll thank you to remember that your brother died of consumption, not at my hands! Hardly had he breathed his last when you demanded that an autopsy be performed. The doctor, lest you forget, was a personal friend of yours. Even so, he found no grounds for your abominable suspicion that I had poisoned your brother—I will not put up with these repeated accusations.
In that case let us go on. A teamster, God be thanked! found the boy and carried him down from the ruins at Baden.
Less than half an hour ago. I sent the man on to your place with a note explaining what had happened—obviously you didn’t receive it.
The name is Dogl—I have no idea what could be keeping him.
By all means send for Dr. Smetana—whichever man arrives first will do the job. But one thing is of the utmost importance—regardless of who it is, he must not report what happened.
Because they will surely take Karl away, and if he is moved—Well, I fear the worst!
• • •
VIENNA, JULY 30, 1826
Most honored Doctor Smetana,
A terrible misfortune has occurred, a misfortune which Karl has accidentally brought upon himself. I hope there is still a chance to save him, but my hope depends particularly on you, provided you can come soon. Karl has a bullet in his head. How this happened, you shall learn in due course—But quickly, for God’s sake, quickly.
Yours respectfully,
BEETHOVEN
As help had to be provided quickly, he had to be taken to his mother’s where he now is. I enclose her address.
• • •
Maestro, the man who just arrived is Dr. Dogl. He asks that you remain in here until he finishes.
Yes, but first he must shave the wounded area.
Shall I dispose of the note to Smetana?
In that case I’ll deliver it now and return without delay.
• • •
Maestro Beethoven, I’m greatly honored to meet you.
So far so good; I have removed the bullet and dressed the wound. Still, I would be deceiving you, were I to say he is out of danger. Far from it! In truth his life is in the balance.
At this moment I have no way of knowing the condition of his brain. If the brain has been injured, the signs may not appear until next week, in which case he is lost.
You misunderstood me, I didn’t say he is lost at present, nor that the signs are certain to appear; we can only wait and see. So far there is no fever; if it comes that will be the turning point.
As for this other matter of not informing the authorities, I’m afraid I can’t oblige your sister-in-law; to do so would finish me as a surgeon. Surely you understand.
The best I can do is to delay your nephew’s removal from the house.
To the prison ward of the hospital.
Naturally, it goes without saying that suicide is looked upon as a criminal act.
If you’ll excuse me, I’ll say good-bye now to your nephew.
• • •
Maestro, I have word from Dr. Smetana. He considers Dr. Dogl altogether capable and will not come to Karl unless Dogl requests a second opinion.
It can’t be helped, you know the way of doctors.
Dr. Dogl is leaving now—he says he’ll look in again tomorrow.
While you were seeing him out I read what he wrote. In view of that, I suppose it would be best for us to go the police ourselves.
If you wish, but frankly you look spent. Would it not be better for me to go there on my own and report back to you?
D’accord! I’ll wait while you say good-bye to him.
Presumably she is with Karl.
For heaven’s sake, that is no reason not to say good-bye. By all means go in.
• • •
Maestro, what is it, what happened inside?
But something caused your tears.
Don’t continue—she has come into the room.
Ludwig, presumably you understand that my object was not to hurry you but to keep Karl from growing agitated—in his condition that would be the worst thing possible. If indeed I pushed you, I apologize.
It’s not for me to explain why your “son” refuses to speak to you—if he lives, perhaps he’ll explain the matter himself.
I know nothing of the letter entrusted to Niemetz.
It would be best for you to leave now—Holz is fetching your hat and stick.
Maestro, your sister-in-law is right; do leave now. I will delay a moment and find out what I can of why Karl won’t speak to you. Then I shall attend to the matter we discussed earlier.
• • •
Maestro, you were wise not to come with me to the police; the officiousness and the posturing were extremely tedious. As you already know from Dr. Dogl, suicide is punishable by law.
Karl will receive a serious reprimand and be placed under police surveillance; worse still, you yourself, as guardian, will have to appear before the Magistrate tomorrow.
Of course I shall accompany you.
Although I persuaded her to let me have a word with him, your nephew was anything but helpful.
With regard to his unwillingness to speak to you, he merely said, “if only you would stop reproaching him.”
Believe me, that is more or less the sum of it.
There will be time enough tomorrow to discuss the rest.
Please don’t insist upon
Well then, he also said, “if only you would never show your face again.”
If you do, he threatens to tear off the bandage!
In my view he is suffering some sort of delirium; your sister-in-law mentioned that Dr. Dogl
No, in truth he is not delirious. As you well know, I don’t always regard your nephew as deserving of your devotion. If you were not so kindhearted, you would have sent him packing long ago. But never mind, your sister-in-law gave me this for you.
Dear Ludwig,
Before Dr. Dogl left, he told me that Karl would be allowed to stay here for a week at most. Do let us make a bargain. If you agree to let him stay with me and not visit, not even once during this critical period, I give you my word that I will abide by all your future wishes. Please, for the sake of Karl whom we both love, agree to this.
Yours
JOHANNA
Maestro, since it is only for a week, I urge you to agree.
Good! Now let us have something to eat and call it a day; you have been through a terrible storm.
Never! you will not find yourself “shipwrecked” while I am alive.
• • •
Prospero, I hope I’m not disturbing you.
My piano lesson is not until 5:30.
I’m still using Pleyel until the translation of Clementi’s System arrives.
I was in fact just sitting down to practice when Mother asked me to bring you this.
Dear Ludwig,
I cannot tell you how upset I am by what you said about Karl when I bumped into you on the esplanade this morning; I have never seen you in such a state—all at once you seemed a man of seventy. Please come and have dinner with us today at the usual time, 2 o’clock; it will be just Gerhard and the girls and us (to start with we are having one of your favorites, scrambled eggs and brains). During this trying time, Stephan and I would like you to dine with us as often as you wish, indeed take all your meals with us. And rest assured that it will be no imposition; after all, you are not only Stephan’s oldest friend, but practically a member of the family. Besides, it is but 27 steps from your front door to ours, as Gerhard never tires of telling us. You cannot imagine how happy it would make him, your Ariel, to see you every day; the mere idea of this invitation had him hopping about like one of those performing monkeys in the menagerie, so much does he worship you.—Sometimes it is hard for me to believe that he will be 14 next month.
Your devoted
CONSTANCE VON BREUNING
Yes, Prospero, Mother told me what happened.
I lowered my head not because I’m ashamed, but because I’m sorry.
Not for your nephew, for you, naturally.
Please excuse my impudance but I’m certain you are wrong; your nephew surely reveran worships you.
Father says I spell like a guttersnipe.
I’m so pleased! I’ll run and tell her that you accept the invitation.
• • •
Ludwig, clearly you interest Gerhard a good deal more than his lessons do; I had to remind him that dinner was over ten minutes ago.
I am not obliged to return to the War Department for another quarter of an hour; I’ll just have Constance send the girls to their room so that we may have some privacy.
In truth I have not seen your nephew all summer, except in passing; thus I have no idea what could have prompted him to do such a thing.
If I remember correctly, he was expected to take his examinations at the end of June.
I did in fact hear some talk of gambling debts.
By no means from him, nor did he approach me for a loan.
Believe me, I am withholding nothing. If I appear reserved, that is because I have learned my lesson. During our lifelong friendship we have fallen out three times, and each time the cause pertained to your nephew or, on one occasion, to his father. Our most recent quarrel, which I need hardly remind you took nine years to patch up, resulted from my opposition to your becoming the boy’s guardian. In all likelihood neither of us has enough years left for a repetition of that.
I would have you pay attention to yourself for a change. Only by luck, or rather, a miracle did you finish the new quartet on the Friday before this business occurred. And you have told me there is to be a fifth quartet, to say nothing of the Requiem for your friend Wolfmayer, your Saul & David oratorio etc. Consider how much work you still wish to do. Besides, you are not in the best of health.
“A little abdominal trouble,” indeed; inflammation of the bowels is a serious matter. Why, you suffered an attack as recently as January. Everything cannot concern Karl; you must look after yourself as well.
In my opinion you ought to go away. For the first time in twenty-five years you have failed to leave town for the summer, yet both of us know that your welfare depends entirely upon your doing so.
I trust that you are mistaken and that your nephew will soon recover.
I am not recommending that you go to Baden, surely not after what has just happened, nor that you leave tomorrow, but I do believe
Before which Magistrate must you appear?
At what time?
Would you like me to accompany you?
No, not with Holz; there is no need for two of us.
If I made a face, it’s because, well, frankly I don’t trust your Mr. Holz—nor am I alone in that.
It’s time for me to return to my work. When you learn the Magistrate’s name, let me know; it may be that I have met the man and could approach him on your behalf.
• • •
Maestro, Magistrate Czapka says he is an admirer of your music.
Under the circumstances it might be better for you to write your responses and I shall answer for you.
Czapka says he admires the violin sonatas most of all, especially op. 24, which he and his wife play frequently—There you have a promising sign!
I would find it more promising if he had cited op. 47
Most of what he just finished saying you already know. There is but one new stipulation: since Karl’s offense is a crime against the church, he will be consigned to the care of a priest for “instruction.”
They would do better to instruct his mother!
There will be no instruction while he is at his mother’s; it will begin only after the police remove him to the hospital.
No police!!! I will not have it!
Keep in mind that Karl is under arrest.
Tant pis! I will not suffer the disgrace of their coming to my sister-in-law’s in broad daylight for all the world to see—Never! Request that I be allowed to arrange for his removal myself.
Czapka says that such a request is highly irregular, but he will take it under advisement.
Tell him that if the police dare
Prudence, I beg of you! We may yet be obliged to contest other, more critical issues—Czapka just finished explaining that if Karl survives, the Magistracy will conduct a hearing into the causes of the act.
They have no business to conduct
Czapka says that you are free to go.
I didn’t know I had been charged with a crime!
Instead of objecting, this is the moment to thank the Magistrate and show him your most dazzling smile.
Bravo! You have won the man completely. By the way, may I know which bagatelle you plan to bestow upon the wife?
Who knows, I’ll fabricate something. Meanwhile my only plan is to go straight home and resume work on the new quartet.
Under the circumstances, will it be possible for you to work?
Under the circumstances, work is the only possibility!
• • •
Mr. Beethoven, please forgive me for disturbing you, but Karl left me instructions to bring you this letter.
I am unaware of any “secret” motive he may have had, perhaps the letter will disclose one.
I don’t understand what you are driving at.
On the contrary, Karl is perfectly sane.
I didn’t know he suffered from headaches as a child; he hasn’t complained of one recently.
I beg your pardon but that is unjust; in no way am I responsible for what has happened.
What evil influence?
I taught him nothing! As you know, Karl and I met at boarding school when we were thirteen years old; what we learned thereafter, we learned together.
You may say what you like about Karl’s mother, but I’ll thank you not to defame mine!
Suspicions be damned! Good day.
• • •
VIENNA, AUGUST 1
Karl!
Your filthy carrier pigeon has brought your letter. However reluctant I am to put my answer in writing, I have no choice but to do so since I am forbidden to set eyes on you—Dear God, why? Am I plague-ridden!!! Must I rely solely on Holz for news of you? What if you took a turn for the worse—God forbid! and needed—Away with such thoughts! If you don’t survive, neither shall I; believe me, that will be my end—And you speak of tears! How dare you accuse me of lusting after—Faugh, the shame of it! Are you not in your right mind? What do you know of tears! Since I became your guardian I have shed more tears than the grieving Niobe. Why, on Sunday alone—Basta!—But that is to speak in the voice of your mysterious force—Spare me such madness—Alas, I do believe that you are insane—Just imagine! accusing me of forcing you—of being the force—How dare you hold me to blame—I, who would not have harmed—nay, would have done anything, anything—who wanted only—I would have only to take care of you Speaking of tears, voilà! you see where mine have stained the page.
I will now refresh your memory with regard to certain past events—I was at great pains to plan your education, ever bearing in mind the kind of education that I myself did not receive—But make no mistake, it was not through any fault of my father’s! On the other hand is not a son’s education the foremost responsibility of a true father? (Never mind for now the responsibilities of a true mother.) I sent you to the best schools, regardless of the cost or sacrifice to me; I paid for your tutors and piano lessons and always saw to it that you needed for nothing—Why, I even tried to provide for you beyond the grave, a kindness for which you now see fit to ridicule me—No! I do not wish to keep the bank shares—I do not want them! They are yours!—To whom would I give them in any case, to my wretched unbrotherly brother? Never! your Uncle Johann is a moneybags already. Those shares were bought for you, held for you, retained even when I was up to my eyes in debt (including a debt of your mother’s which I took upon myself) and was threatened with a lawsuit. Pressed on all sides I turned to my brother, naturally, to whom else could I turn? But brother Cain refused to guarantee a loan for me! Thus was I obliged against my will (obliged, note well, by the force of necessity, not by a delusory force) to sell a share. Nevertheless I held on to the rest like an eagle, gripping them tightly in my talons—for you! for no one but you did I hold them, as though to honor a sacred trust.
As for your true mother—If indeed you are Florestan, then I must be Leonora seeing that I am the one who rescued you from your vicious or, rather, your unworthy mother’s influence. Besides, the action was taken, as you well know, in full compliance with the terms of your father’s will. Admittedly I called your mother the Queen of Night and taught you to do the same; if, however, I called her a whore, I did so only after you were old enough to understand the term and, I may say, only after the woman had sold herself for 20 gulden on every dance floor in Vienna! What is more, she had given birth to two illegitimate children! Why, you yourself—For discretion’s sake I have always taken care to conceal the fact that you yourself narrowly escaped a similar fate, inasmuch as your mother was three months’ pregnant when your father married her! Still, she does not hold a candle to your Aunt Therese who had in tow a bastard five years old when my brainless brother married her!
Easy virtue aside, I always took care to instill in you but one idea with regard to your mother, namely, that you should honor her. In my day that was the only fashion in which children were permitted to behave. Obedience was deemed one’s duty, pure and simple. By God, if a man takes it upon himself to house, feed, clothe and educate a child, that man is clearly the child’s parental benefactor; therefore he is deserving of unqualified respect and gratitude, to say nothing of submission—Never in my life did I talk back to my father. Nor did I ever contradict him or even voice a demur. I was always docile and ready to do as I was told. If he made me practice until midnight, I did as I was told; if he woke me at two in the morning, routed me out of bed and ordered me to practice until dawn, I did as I was told. Even so, I was beaten all but daily—not only did he beat me but—By the way, the punishment was meted out with your grandfather’s walking stick, the very one that I myself carry to this day. Yet worse than the beatings, far worse—he often locked me
I have violent diarrhea today, indeed I have had it since your disappearance Friday—Well now, where was I? Yes yes, I was recalling those times when my father locked me up in the cellar—a fiendish place! Not only was it black as pitch, but cold and damp and rat-infested; besides I was only five or six years old, whereas you are nearly twenty—And you have the audacity to speak of dungeons. What do you know of dungeons?! Why, the one you speak of is merely an engraving, and the prisoner merely a performer posturing upon a stage. Moreover you style my deafness a dungeon. Well, in that regard you are partly right. Yet to speak of the silence and the solitude en passant as if—Solitary confinement!!! That is a punishment whose harshness you cannot possibly imagine. In the beginning I fancied that I was like the rest of you, in spite of my secret—Ha! so much for self-delusion! Simply because I was free to take walks, enter drawing rooms or attend the theater, did not signify that I was released from the cellar—I mean cell. Far from it! No matter where I go or what I do, those walls are always with me; they cut me off from everyone, imprison me inside myself—Enough!
I cannot help but suspect that you too, my thankless son, have a secret, one so shameful that you dare not share it with anyone, unless with that vulgar, dissolute companion of yours—Well, go on then, share it with N but not with your devoted father—Come to your senses! you must share it with me. Somehow or other I will find it in my heart to understand and forgive you, regardless of the impropriety. And bear in mind that I myself once contemplated suicide, that I too once had a secret—What is yours? Confide in me, I implore you! Even if it pertains to women or, worse, to an older woman—It so happens that Mrs. N let drop that you spent the night on
• • •
Great Maestro, please forgive the interruption, I did not mean
• • •
Please not be angry Mister Beethoven—he make me bring this.
Great Maestro,
I would ask you not to scold the housekeeper for bringing you this. Since, however, you ordered me out of the room I feel obliged to account for my behavior. I truly regret having startled you, but believe me I was not trying to spy on you, nor did I read a word of what you were writing. Hence I entreat you to see me again, however briefly, if only to let me reassure you that your former Secretary-sans-salary remains your most loyal and devoted
SCHINDLER
I fetch him
• • •
Great Maestro, you have my heartfelt thanks for permitting me
Alas, I realize that things will never be the same with us, not at least while Holz is with you. But perhaps after his impending marriage
You misunderstand, my tears are not for myself.
For you—I have not seen you so dispirited, nay, bowed.
I am indeed aware of what has happened; nevertheless you must have faith that your nephew will recover.
In my view it was the examinations, his failure to
Well and good, but after giving up his studies at the University, for him to have failed his first examinations at the Polytechnic Institute
All the same I am convinced it was the examinations.
Gossip concerning whom?
Most everyone I know is in complete sympathy with you; only one or two hold you to blame.
It makes no difference; they are people of little
Please don’t aggravate yourself, it’s hardly worth
• • •
Maestro, was that not Schindler I saw skulking away?
No one of sound mind holds you to blame. The man is a fool!
Rest assured that I will not abandon you after my marriage. Besides, what makes His Bossiness assume that you are ready to take him back?
Yes, I just came from there. Your sister-in-law says that Karl’s condition is unchanged.
If it were worse, she would hardly say
But he is not worse.
Your sister-in-law aside, do not forget that it’s your nephew who is holding you at bay.—With regard to our little party this week
I changed the subject only because I have nothing more to say in that connection. Do let me report on the party.
Firstly our overlarge host, the renowned violinist Milord Sir John Falstaff Schuppanzigh, has postponed the event for one night in order to accommodate Vienna’s premier cloth merchant, your good friend and patron Wolfmayer.
On the contrary the delay brings a happy outcome: our own lame Oedipus, the salty and celebrated violoncellist Linke will now be able to attend.
Unfortunately Weiss is still indisposed; but even so, on hand will be three members of the Schuppanzigh Quartet, including your humble servant and second fiddle Holz.
No, Dr. Bach was not free.—Now for savory matters, Wolfmayer insists upon bringing the drinks.
Champagne, Moselle and a Hungarian red!
smoked salmon, trout, meat salad and macaroni with Parmesan cheese
As for the dessert, not a word was said.
I have no idea, it’s to be a surprise.
Believe me, Milord Sir John would not say; it will come as a surprise to me as well.
• • •
Maestro, why even a street Arab could answer your query—obviously there is a top hat, a frock coat, a waist
I, Holz, imbibe too much? Come now, how often have I heard you yourself say that one can never have too much champagne! Besides, unless I have lost count, I am no more than a glass ahead of my most honored and excellent master.
Yes, yes, the apparel—Apparently the apparel is a gift from your friend apparent Wolfmayer. I urge you to examine the top hat; it appears to be made of spaghetti.
If you doubt me, let us ask the manufacturer himself.
• • •
Spaghetti indeed, Ludwig; it’s lacquered cane loosely woven to release the summer’s heat; the frock coat, too—the cloth is something new from our factory in Tulln; it’s lighter in weight than worsted—partly wool, partly goat hair.
I trust that you are not just saying so to please me. Some self-styled wit has already dubbed it “lettuce.” In my view the color is effectual because it appears cool. Besides when worn with the white silk waistcoat—Well, merely to behold it causes chilblains! Please do me the honor of slipping it on.
Maestro, you have stepped from the pages of our fashion journal! Come, allow me to escort you inside to Milord’s dressing mirror so that
Will my Honored Guest not have his host, Milord Sir John escort him to my bedchamber?
Indeed I said no such thing—Capacious though my bed is, there is hardly room for me within its confines, let alone himself besides!
What is the meaning of this? While all of us agree that he looks handsome, strikingly handsome in his new top hat and frock coat, my Honored Guest stands before his image in tears! Champagne is meant
Ludwig, what is the matter, why did you send the others from the room?
I’m pleased that you like the apparel. However, this is not the first time that I have done something of the sort, yet tears were not shed formerly.
Holz is right, I did cry like a child over the adagio, the more when I heard the cavatina. But what
Come now, dear friend, there is quite a difference between a frock coat and a string quartet!
Well and good, I don’t deny that we both excel at what we do, yet given the choice I would prefer to excel at what you do.
On the contrary it is I who am in your debt.
Please remember that when I commissioned you to write the Requiem you were working on your Mass; after that came the choral symphony, and now the quartets
I know little of your other patrons but as for myself, I neither need nor shall I miss 100 ducats. Besides, once the quartets are finished, there will be ample time
Do not say that. After all, you are only 56 years old; many works remain
Be patient please, you’ll feel quite differently as soon as your nephew
I have no idea, who but God can say what prompts someone to commit such an act?
I have heard the gossip about his gambling debts and the failure to pass his examinations, yet ever since Werther—Well, I cannot help but suspect that the cause concerns love.
Nothing, rest assured that I have heard no such gossip.
Do believe me, please.
Finished—the C sharp minor quartet?
But no one said a word to me.
I’ll keep it to myself, naturally. Was it finished before your nephew—
Goodness, only three days before—Surely the work of Providence!
Better, you say? Forgive me, but I simply cannot imagine a work better than the B flat quartet.
To me?
The dedication of your new quartet—I’m hardly deserving
But a work of such importance
My apologies, Ludwig. Now you have seen for yourself the manner in which I cried over your cavatina
Excuse me, someone is calling from the other room.
It was Schuppanzigh, he wished to know which of us was on top.—Instead of Falstaff, perhaps you should start calling him Doll Tearsheet.
He also said that dessert is being served.
• • •
Honored Guest, it is nothing more than an apricot cream.
Alas, I’m not at liberty to reveal the recipe.
It was obtained at a certain Konditorei from a certain waiter who made me swear an oath never to show it to anyone—unless in my waistline!
Maestro, if it’s still this hot in September, will you lend me your new top hat for my nuptials?
To relieve the heat of the day
Doubtless the heat of the night will be welcome!
How kind of you, but the member I have is quite sufficient.
Speaking of size, Milord Sir John would have a word with you.
Honored Guest, I too have a request to make.
Will he not lend Milord his frock coat?
Maestro, beware—the seams will not hold.
While I replenish your glass, there is yet another mendicant, namely, Oedipus.
Modish Maestro, am I the only one who covets the waistcoat? It is truly elegant.
Frankly I can’t say. Although I’m taken for a gossip, I alone among the guests entertain no theory why your nephew committed the act.
If he continues to maintain his silence, perhaps you should consult Tiresias.
Forgive me, I made light of it only because I understand the gravity. Have you any idea when he’ll be removed to the hospital?
But since there are no signs as yet of brain injury, you ought not
Honored Guest, I’m afraid that our little party is an utter failure.
In view of the fact that he was invited chez moi to take his mind off his nephew, all that we have spoken of
Maestro, pay no attention to Milord; surely it would be easier to take Jacob’s mind off Benjamin.
Then perhaps it’s time to say good night—Come, I’ll see you home.
I stand corrected or, strictly speaking, I stand unsteadily—indeed it’s Beethoven who will see Holz home!
• • •
VIENNA, AUGUST 4, 1826
Dear Ludwig,
Thank you for honoring our agreement. The Police have now informed me that they will remove Karl to the general hospital early Monday morning. He will be kept in a room on the three-gulden floor; a deposit is required for sheets, towels, utensils etc. Not only will I attend to his personal linens and other personal effects, but I shall do my best to pay my share of the charges.
As you well know, six days have passed without the least sign of improvement; nevertheless Dr. Dogl cautions that it may take yet another week or even two before the boy is out of danger—May God grant the swift arrival of that day!
Yours
JOHANNA
• • •
Most Excellent Second Violin!
In spite of my request to bring Karl to the hospital myself, the police will not hear of it. Thus I must find a bigwig to help me. However, I cannot for the life of me lay my hands on the name of the Magistrate we saw last Monday—What a pity that Breuning doesn’t know the man—And how unfortunate that you, dear Romeo, are slipping off to Baden tomorrow!
In the greatest haste, your
BEETHOVEN
• • •
Dear Maestro,
The Magistrate’s name is Czapka. Although I shall return from Baden Sunday night, I must be at the Chancellery first thing Monday morning. But rest assured that I shall be in touch with you Monday afternoon.
Your most devoted
HOLZ
• • •
VIENNA, AUGUST 7, 1826
Esteemed Second Violin!
Czapka was unwilling to alter the Magistracy’s regulations—So much for the bagatelle I promised the wife! In order to keep out of sight, I went into the bakery to witness Karl’s removal. His mother, on the other hand, chose to oversee the whole affair from the street, thereby calling attention not only to herself, but to the family’s disgrace. As for the police, they did their duty with dispatch, yet when it came time to transfer Karl to the waiting cart they handled him in the most barbaric fashion! The cart itself was strangely reminiscent of the sapling carts the French used in 1809 to bring their wounded into the city—Suddenly I see myself in my brother’s cellar, the place where I took refuge from the howitzers during the siege. Although Karl was only three years old at the time, it was during that infernal night and the next day that I came to know the imp—Again and again he would sneak up on me in the shadows and tug at the pillow which was wrapped around my head—I held it there to protect my ears from the noise of the shells. He didn’t understand, naturally. Thus it became a game for him to try and pull the pillow off. At first I was put out by such behavior in a child; so, too, was his father, who gave him quite a smack. Yet after some tears the game resumed, and when the little rascal began calling me his rabbit—well, I lost my heart to him! And now he is carted off like a prisoner! The devil take them all—
Your
BEETHVN
• • •
Maestro, Dogl was right, Karl is still in danger; however, the injury to the periosteum is only
The bone-covering—the injury is only superficial.
Two nurses watch over him every minute.
Not because of his condition, but rather to forestall another suicide attempt—
Do try to be patient about visiting him.
It’s not simply a question of his willingness; he is not always conscious.
Yes, alas, that still remains a possibility.
By law he would have to be buried outside the cemetery, in unconsecrated ground.
At Rabenstein, the place set apart for suicides—
• • •
Maestro, I regret to say that his recovery is still in doubt.
By no means, his care leaves nothing to be desired; four of the ablest doctors visit him four times a day.
• • •
Maestro, I bring you wonderful news—Karl is out of danger!
It might be better to wait; thus far your patience has been exemplary.
I have reason to believe that tomorrow will be too soon.
In truth he is still unwilling to see you.
He gave no reason.
You are absolutely right. As you know, I would be the last to defend your nephew’s behavior.
Wait and see, he’ll relent. Meanwhile the Magistrate will now assign a priest to him.
For purposes of instruction.
• • •
Maestro, the housekeeper told me you were here; she said to look for you at your “most adorable coffee house.”
I can only suppose that she meant most adored.
There are just too many ears here; let us write everything.—Firstly, the Magistrates will hold another hearing on August 30th.
No more hearings!!!
It’s unimportant, only the topmost pages got wet.
Do stop fussing—the waiter will mop up the rest
To come back to the Magistrates, they consider it their duty to investigate the suicide attempt.
Never! How dare they schedule such a hearing—what gives Czapka the right!
As Chief Magistrate, he has the right
To shit, as the rest of us do—I’m still Karl’s guardian and nothing, not even Empty Emperor Franz, gives Czapka the authority to interfere in my affairs. Never again will I permit my linen to be aired in public—Never!!! I had more than my fill of that when the court got rid of the depraved mother and appointed me sole guardian
Apropos of the guardianship, for the sake of your health and your peace of mind I urge you to resign.
For the sake of yours, I urge you to drop the subject
But I am not alone of that opinion, it’s shared by Dr. Bach and Councilor Breuning.
Five minutes ago you wrote firstly—let us proceed to secondly
A priest has been assigned to Karl; he is said to be a skilled casuist, as well as very strict.
Of what order?
Redemptorist
As you know, I find their mysticism a trifle brainless—Still, I don’t much care if the man is a contortionist, providing he gets to the bottom of Karl’s secret.
If anyone can, it’s these Redemptorists.
Unless my nephew proves more cunning than the priest
You may be surprised; these men are like leeches, and their methods can be medieval.
Torture???
Rest assured that the line is drawn there.
How long will the “instruction” last?
That depends on your nephew. Even when the doctors are quite ready to send him home, he will not be released until the priest obtains a profession of conversion.
If I know my Karl, the profession will be imminent by the end of next week.
He must also pass a religious examination.
Don’t forget how quick-witted the boy can be when it suits him—He’ll be out of there in time for his name day!
When is that?
September 4th—Preparations must be made
He cannot possibly be released before—What is the matter? Have you only now spotted Secret Agent Schwenke?
I have made up my mind—I’ll visit Karl this week
But he is still not
Let us pay and leave this most adorable nest of spies!
• • •
Yes, that is correct; the patient is on the three-gulden floor in the surgical section.
When you get there ask for Assistant Dr. Seng.
• • •
Mister, do speak up, I can barely hear you.
Yes, I am Dr. Seng.
Now you are shouting—it’s forbidden to disturb the patients. Do you know how to write?
From your appearance I wouldn’t have guessed that you were literate—Then take the pencil, and please be quick about it—I’m on my rounds.
I’m looking for my nephew, a young reprobate—a good-for-nothing
Does the fellow have a name?
Naturally, but one that he has dishonored—Beethoven
You—surely you are not the great Beethoven?
Surely I am—Is he in your charge?
Yes, Mr. Beethoven
I really had no wish to visit him since he doesn’t deserve it. In addition to being utterly spoiled and worthless, he is all but ruined morally. Besides, he has brought me nothing but aggravation. If I were wiser, I wouldn’t have come but he begged me to do so.
Let me assure you, Mr. Beethoven, that I have given your nephew the best possible care from the start and will continue to do so while he is here—You have my word on that.
In what room will I find the scoundrel?
Please follow me, I’ll take you to him.
• • •
Uncle, I told Holz that I would let you know as soon as
You may request one from the Matron, or sit on the edge of the bed, as you wish.
It’s not permitted. The door is never closed except when the priest comes in to instruct me; otherwise I am kept under constant surveillance—Thus it would be best for you to write your part.
I have brought with me my answer to your demented letter—However, if the door must remain open, we’ll speak of that another time—Well now, is this what I’m paying 3 gulden for, this crypt! Or should I say dungeon, a subject on which you deem yourself an expert! How asinine to place the window all the way up there—one can’t even look outside.
At least there is daylight now, it’s worse at night.
How so?
It’s impossible to sleep because of vermin, not to mention my fellow patients.
What mischief are they up to?
Not only do they guzzle wine and schnapps
But surely that is forbidden
Naturally
Perhaps your priest should also be instructing them.
They are the most common people; I simply cannot imagine how those in the ward behave. Thank you so much for keeping me in a room.
So now I’m to be thanked—Spare me your toadying! I have read your rantings with regard to being in prison, albeit in a delusory one—Well, now you are in a true prison! Moreover, you came to it through an act of your own commission—Why??? What made you do it? I want the truth!
Although I’m out of danger, my condition is still extremely poor. Since nothing can be changed, the less said about what happened, the better.
But you owe me an explanation
I would ask you not to pound the mattress; the result is comparable to your pounding my head.
Then tell me the truth! What are you concealing?
Nothing—On my word I have told you everything.
Rubbish! Your everlasting lies have debased your word.
The Sister asks you to excuse the interruption.
What did she want?
Ostensibly to see how I was faring; yet I suspect that she wanted to have a look at the famous composer.
Thanks to you the famous composer is done for!
Come now, Holz mentioned the gift of a new frock coat from Wolfmayer; why are you dressed in your shabbiest one?
For reasons that you are too callow to understand.
For example?
Shame! I’m ashamed of my worthless nephew! Hence I wished not to call attention to myself—But we are wasting time. In short order you’ll be released from this prison—What do you intend to do with your life?
Whatever pleases you; I’m still your ward.
Damnation!!!
What is the matter? I beg you not to make a scene.
Although you no longer regard yourself as my son, you are still my—by blood! you are my nephew and will remain such forever
Let us continue, Uncle.
To reiterate, what career do you plan to pursue?
Since my choice has caused such bitter quarrels in the past, I hesitate to answer.
Coyness has no place in one verging on twenty—Out with it!
A military career.
When you left the room I assumed that you were not coming back.
I feared that I would lose my equanimity.
This is not Baden; one may not ramble about here, it’s forbidden.
It was forbidden for you to enlist in the army! Nevertheless you utterly disregarded my wishes and almost ruined your life—to say nothing of what you did to mine!
Because I took you by the lapels?
I was not thinking of your physical assault upon me. Since, however, we are on the subject, only Oedipus ever dared raise his hand against his father—And bear in mind that you were still my son in June! I opposed you for your own good. From the start my only object has been your welfare—Indeed your welfare and mine are indivisible! But that is something quite beyond your comprehension. Thus you have always judged my actions as stemming from self-interest—Fool! It’s you—your judgment which stems from a lack, nay, an abysmal lack of magnanimity and heart-felt love—It’s you
I will not have you
Let me finish! My sole request was for you to complete your studies—thereafter you would be free to pursue whatever career you wished—But no! you went ahead in utter disregard
Concerning my enlistment, I
I have not finished! When you reversed your decision, I thought that you had seen the daylight. You yourself confessed that the army is no place for a youth fluent in Greek and Latin, not to mention French and English—After all, I didn’t spend tens of thousands on your education for you to become a vulgarian!
I would remind you that I joined the army out of desperation, to free myself from you, I mean from your reproaches. Yet even now, upon reflection, I wish to make it my career.
Alas!—I made my worst mistake last year
Be so good as to come to the point; I’m very tired.
I should never have permitted you to matriculate at the Polytechnic Institute—It was a miserable step down to abandon your studies at the University for a business career, worse still for a military career—Even so, you have until September 3rd to make good your examinations at the Institute.
I shall never go back there, unless of course you insist upon it.
No doubt you fear that you’ll fail the examinations a second time.
I fear no such thing! I went to the Institute only because your brother persuaded both of us that I should—Uncle Johann notwithstanding, I’m not suited to a business career.
Nor to music, nor to philology—only to the army
That is unjust; a military career requires as much industry and discipline as any other.
It’s useless to argue since I can be of no help to you in that pursuit.
On the contrary, if I’m not mistaken, the officer in charge of the military academy at Neustadt, a certain Colonel Faber, is under the command of your Royal pupil’s elder brother.
Let us drop the subject—I will never agree to a military career!
But Uncle
Never—that is final!!!
The priest has come in—I’ll introduce you to him, but then you must leave, without conversation I beseech you.
Mr. Beethoven, I am honored to meet you.
In all modesty I have had considerable experience in these matters.
Heretofore I have had no difficulty distinguishing between a true and false conversion.
You may rest assured that your nephew will have to apply himself zealously to the task at hand.
• • •
AUGUST 24, 1826
My dear Stephan,
I urgently need to consult with you. Can you possibly imagine the subject? Right you are—my nephew! Joking aside, if it’s not too bothersome, I can stop by this evening either before or after supper, whichever suits you best.
In great haste, your
BEETHOVEN
• • •
Ludwig, I agreed to let Gerhard receive you providing he returned to his room immediately.
With regard to your nephew what is the latest difficulty?
I would ask you not to dismiss the idea out of hand; in my view the army might be the best place for him.
In that respect all of us are slaves. I am a slave to the War Department, Gerhard is a slave to school, and you yourself, are you not a slave to composition? For your nephew to be a slave to the army might in fact prove beneficial to him; after all, we have seen what freedom brought him.
What better cure for profligacy! The army will bridle the boy in no time.
I do in fact know Colonel Faber.
You are right to assume that your nephew would graduate as an officer. But even so, the military academy is not useful for your purposes. Were you to send him there, his schooling in Vienna would go for nought; he would have to start all over again, to drill and study for years. Surely he is not likely to fall in with such a plan. Besides, you would have to pay for him at Neustadt.
Consider this: I have an acquaintance at the War Department, a certain Lieutenant Field-Marshal Baron von Stutterheim, who commands his own regiment. I shall try to persuade him to grant your nephew a cadetship. If the Baron agrees, the boy would obtain a commission more quickly than at Neustadt and at much less cost to you.
His regiment is stationed in Moravia.
At Iglau.
Two days by coach.
I grant you that Neustadt is nearer, yet the farther he is from Vienna the better. Indeed the distance will strengthen his discipline.
True enough, yet the army will bring to an end more than his boyhood; in some wise, Ludwig, it will also end your fatherhood.
Come quickly, I’ll lead the way.
Seeing that you have soiled your linen, we had better stop for now.
Never mind the Lieutenant Field-Marshal, you need not decide the matter to-night.
By all means, if I can. What is the favor?
Won’t Holz be serving as your agent there?
In that case what is the need for both of us?
If my presence at the hearing will put you at your ease, rest assured that I’ll be there. Please have Holz inform me of the hour.
• • •
Maestro, Councilor Breuning was in the courtroom from the start.
Your nephew was brought in by the police.
No, he sat in a chair throughout.
Of his behavior in general he said that he became worse because you demanded that he be better.
When Czapka probed his motive, your nephew declared that he was driven not by hatred of you but by other feelings.
For example he—Indeed he mostly voiced the same complaints that you told me were put forward in his letter.
That you reproached him too much.
That you kept him under constant surveillance.
That you held him “imprisoned.”
On the contrary, the court acknowledged all that you have done for him.
At the same time, however, the court found that if Karl acted in accordance with natural instinct and expressed the wish to live with his mother, it could hardly object.
Please calm yourself, the finding was merely conjectural; your nephew expressed no such wish.
Since he will not be discharged for several weeks it’s premature to fret.
But I said that your nephew expressed no such wish, not even the wish to visit his mother.
Why do you speak of your brother?
May I read it?
GNEIXENDORF, AUGUST 24, 1826
Dearest Brother,
I am taking this opportunity to wish you the very best for tomorrow, your name day. During this trying time while Karl is in the hospital and the summer heat is still cooking Vienna (here the air grows crisper), I want to invite you yet again to spend some weeks with us. From my former experience as an apothecary I know how much good the change would do you—travel is always good for one’s health. God only knows how much healthier, let alone richer, you would be today if you had listened to your little brother last year and gone to London when the Philharmonic Society invited you. But never mind, that is yesterday’s chamber pot. (By the by, I hope that there has been no recurrence of the Kolik; in any case please keep in mind that the powders I left for you are in the chest of drawers between the windows.) Surely by now the terms of my invitation are as familiar to you as the nose on your face: I will put at your disposal three very large and beautiful rooms with a grand view of the Danube valley. After the chestnut trees shed their leaves, one can see all the way to Styria! You already know from my numerous gifts how superb the wines of this region are, but you have yet to discover our beef, goose, trout—Even as I write, the spittle is running down my chin!
Time and again you have stated that your only reason for refusing my invitations is your dislike, to put it mildly, of my wife and her daughter. Reconsider, I implore you! For your sake I ask you to let bygones be bygones. Before your health fails you utterly, do come here and see my beautiful estate. Therese has all that she can do to supervise the servants and manage the household; thus you will set eyes on her only at the dinner table. As for the daughter, rest assured that Amalie will seldom cross your path. By the by, the girl just turned 19—Imagine! Oh how the years run away! All the more reason then for you to accept my invitation. Providence alone knows the length of time allotted to each of us; although I am four years younger than you, it is conceivable that I could be taken first. On the other hand—But away with such unwholesome thoughts.
With love and best regards, your most devoted brother
JOHANN
Maestro, have you answered him?
May I read the reply?
VIENNA, AUGUST 28, 1826
I am not coming—
Your brother??????!!!!
LUDWIG
Maestro, Tacitus himself could not have put it more succinctly.
Try not to dwell on your brother. All that really matters now is whether there will be another quartet.
That is music to my ears—or soon will be. In what key?
But that will be the third one in F. There is still none in D minor.
What has your nephew to do with it?
Come now, I told you that he expressed no such wish. Yet even if he should decide to live with his mother
In all likelihood Breuning is at home; he walked back just ahead of me.
Gladly, I’ll wait and take it to him.
My dear Stephan!
Thank you very much for attending the Inquisition—After weighing the pros and cons, I have decided that I would like you to approach the Lieutenant Field-Marshal—prestissimo! It’s much more urgent than I realized when we spoke, so do use all the cunning of Ulysses.
In the greatest haste, your
B.
• • •
SEPTEMBER 1, 1826
My dear Ludwig,
I have good news! The Lieutenant Field-Marshal has agreed to give your nephew a cadetship. Let us confer as soon as possible.
Your devoted friend
STEPHAN
• • •
Ludwig, no cunning was required. The Lieutenant Field-Marshal is an admirer of your music; thus he was quick to look with favor upon the proposal. Indeed if your nephew shapes up, Baron von Stutterheim will hold a place for him as an officer.
The plan is as follows: as soon as your nephew is discharged from the hospital
I remembered his hernia operation and gave that as the reason for his being laid up.—As soon as he is discharged, I’ll present him to the Lieutenant Field-Marshal. The next day he’ll swear the oath of service; thence he must obtain his medical certificate, be fitted for uniforms, equipped with
The whole procedure takes six or seven days.
I suppose that he’ll stay with you since you are his guardian.
But he expressed no wish to stay with his mother.
He’ll leave for Iglau the moment the uniforms are ready.
It can’t be postponed; now that the wheels are set in motion, the plan must go forward.
I stepped out because I recognized your rapt expression. You were in one of those reveries which my mother termed a raptus and teased you for when we were young.
I know that such reveries often bear musical ideas, I didn’t know they could also bear legal ones.
Pertaining to what?
Seeing that I have been urging you to resign the guardianship for months, I am pleased of course. The decision is both judicious and prudent; moreover it is logical. Once your nephew leaves for Iglau, you will have acquitted yourself of your duty as a father; thereafter no further decisions, at least none of importance, will have to be taken.
All the same there is still one matter unsettled. Since your nephew does not reach his majority until he is 24, a new guardian will have to be appointed.
Whom do you have in mind?
I am honored, naturally. However, in my view Dr. Bach would be a better choice.
Because, as you know, I am not an admirer of your nephew.
Ah! so it’s you who resorts to the cunning of Ulysses. When you put it that way, how can I refuse?
I laughed at myself, not at you. Ten years ago I frowned on your being his guardian, now I have agreed to be appointed.
Please have Holz inform the Magistrate.
It goes without saying that I would welcome your thoughts on the subject; do jot them down at your leisure.
• • •
In Karl’s case three points should be borne in mind, I think. Firstly, he must not be treated like a convict, for such treatment would not produce the result we desire, but precisely the opposite—secondly, if he is to be promoted to the higher ranks, he must not live too frugally and shabbily—thirdly, he would find it hard to face too great a restriction in eating and drinking—But I do not wish to forestall you.
• • •
Maestro, Czapka said that he will gladly appoint Breuning as your replacement.
Not only was he quick to agree, but he did so with a smile.
You are forgetting how agitated you were after your last visit to the hospital.
If it’s merely a matter of conveying your name day wishes
By all means suit yourself.
• • •
Uncle, after what happened last time, I told Holz that I didn’t want you to visit again.
The Emperor granted me a dispensation for your name day—Well now, I’m heartened to see some color in your cheeks and to find you sitting up and reading the Bible—presumably for the priest. Has he worked your conversion yet?
Indeed he has.
Backward to the Dark Ages?
I, too, was skeptical at first, yet now I begin to be convinced, not by his teachings but by the man himself. He is utterly altruistic and sincere.
How like you to discern those qualities in a mystical priest, yet fail to see them in your Uncle! But never mind, for your name day—Note well that I, unlike a certain thankless party, have not forgotten the occasion—Apropos of the Bible, I bring you glad tidings!
Why are you silent? Am I to guess the tidings?
Certainly not—All arrangements are now in place for a military career.
Thank you, Uncle, a thousand thanks; you have made me very happy.
If so, why do you remove your hand from mine?
How could I otherwise write down my response? Were matters arranged by Colonel Faber?
No, by a friend of Breuning’s at the War Department, a certain Lieutenant Field-Marshal von Stutterheim. He has agreed to give you a cadetship in his regiment.
That is even better than the academy, promotion might occur sooner.
Don’t be too quick to count chickens.
Where will I be stationed?
In Moravia—which should warm your heart seeing that it takes you so far from your Jailer!
What I wish to be far from is Vienna, which should warm yours. May I know what the plan is?
As soon as you are discharged from this dungeon, Breuning will present you to the Lieutenant Field-Marshal. Immediately thereafter—Why do you finger the bandage?
I was thinking of the scar; I fear that it may still be visible after I’m discharged.
Since that is three or four weeks hence, let us lose no sleep—At any rate, while you are waiting for your health certificate and uniforms etc. you’ll stay with me; then as soon as everything is in order, you’ll leave for Iglau.
How long shall I be with you?
four or five days
What is the matter, has the cat got your tongue?—In view of the possibility that you may never see me again, are five days too many to spend with your guardian?
Of course not, nor will it be our last time together. Simply because I join von Stutterheim’s regiment doesn’t mean
And what would you do if I were not your guardian?
I don’t understand the question.
Would you still wish to stay with me?
What are you fishing for?
I have decided to resign the guardianship in favor of Councilor Breuning.
Why do you make such a face?
Again the cat!
Breuning doesn’t like me.
Tant pis! perhaps now you’ll come to appreciate your former guardian’s devotion. Well, what shall I tell the Councilor—are you or are you not in agreement with the plan?
I am, naturally.
• • •
Maestro, I’ll thank you to stop saying “old married man”; I have been in the blissful state but a scant five days. As for procreating, I can only tell you that I apply myself assiduously and with Catullan ardor.
Concerning your nephew, I’m afraid there is an unforeseen development.
No need for me to do so, he has explained the matter himself.
SEPTEMBER 18, 1826
Dear Uncle,
Now that the bandages have been removed the worst is upon us: where the bullet entered the flesh a void stands out as hairless as limestone. Under the circumstances I cannot possibly be presented to the Lieutenant Field-Marshal, not until all sign of what happened is covered over.
Your dutiful nephew
KARL
Maestro, that would indeed make sense, were it not that your nephew has changed his mind.
He is no longer willing to stay with you.
Please don’t excite yourself, not a word was said about staying with his mother.
Evidently the priest is satisfied; thus Dr. Seng intends to discharge him a week from today.
Unquestionably, but the trick is how to persuade your nephew.
In my opinion Breuning ought to visit the hospital tomorrow, not only to find out why your nephew changed his mind, but to remind him in plain words of the promise he made you.
• • •
Ludwig, your nephew will go wherever I deem best. At the same time he asked me, as his newly appointed guardian, not to make him come back here.
If only to forestall a repetition of what happened in July, I venture to say that I agree with him.
His reason, which I must say I find convincing: if he were here,
you would have too much to say to him and that would cause new quarrels.
That is water under the bridge. Now the salient question is what would be best for both of you.
In truth he expressed a preference to stay with his mother.
Your nephew is now 20 years old. No matter how depraved his mother is, she cannot be held responsible forever for his actions.
At his age he is sure to encounter such women wherever he goes, not solely at his mother’s.
Then let him stay with me.
If he runs away, he will run away wherever I send him.
In that case perhaps you should speak to him yourself.
• • •
Uncle, since it’s such a beautiful day the Sister permitted me sit in the garden.
After so many weeks of confinement, the moment I stepped out of doors I found myself singing your Prisoners’ Chorus, “Oh, what joy to breathe the scent of open air.”
That was kind of Councilor Breuning, but I told him that I wish to stay with my mother.
Back to my room.
Because I will not be upbraided.
Very well, but only on condition that you refrain from such remarks; in no wise have I given you reason to censure me.
Indeed you did say that I was to stay with you, yet for my part I made no such promise.
On the contrary I believe that the Councilor agrees with me.
I won’t hear anything derogatory about my mother; it’s not for me to judge her. The least I can do to repay her for all she has suffered on my account is to spend that time with her.
Since it’s only a matter of four or five days, it makes no sense to speak of a harmful influence on me.
By no means will I treat her more coldly than has been my practice in the past.
All the less reason then to deny her wish to be with me, inasmuch as I’m not likely to be in Vienna soon again.
I fail to see how my staying with her will keep me from being with you.
Rest assured that I’ll visit you as often as you like.
• • •
Most honorable Magistrate von Czapka,
I urgently request
Sir!
I urgently request you to arrange that my nephew, who will have recovered in a few days, shall not leave the hospital with anybody but myself and Mr. Holz—It is out of the question to allow him to be much in the company of his mother, that extremely depraved person. My anxieties and my request are warranted by her most evil, wicked and spiteful character; her enticement of Karl for the purpose of getting money out of me; the probability that she has spent those sums on him; and that she too is intimate with Karl’s dissolute companion Niemetz; the sensation she has been causing with her daughter, whose father is still being traced; and, what is more, the likelihood that in his mother’s home he would make the acquaintance of women who are anything but virtuous. Even the habit of being in the company of such a person cannot possibly lead a young man along the path of virtue—While asking you to give this matter your most serious consideration I send you my best regards. I merely add the remark that, although the occasion was a painful one, it has given me very great pleasure to have made the acquaintance of a man of such excellent intellectual and moral qualities—
I remain, Sir, with due respect, yours sincerely,
BEETHOVEN
• • •
No, Maestro, I’m not early but please don’t fret. If you haven’t finished, Haslinger will just have to wait. This won’t be the first time nor, I suspect, the last that you keep your publisher waiting. One cannot finish the dedication page of one’s greatest symphony, compose a letter to the Magistrate and deal with one’s brother all in the same breath.
If Czapka has already summoned Breuning, rest assured that your letter hit the mark. As for the manuscript, the delay is entirely the Royal Librarian’s fault; he should not have insisted that the corrections be made in your own hand.
Don’t misunderstand me, your hand is perfectly legible. And don’t concern yourself about the smudges, the bookbinder will clean them up.
The man gives his word that it will be bound handsomely and ready for you next Tuesday, the 26th.
Since the Royal Librarian doesn’t return to Berlin until the 29th, there is sufficient time. Altogether the Prussian King should be extremely pleased.
Unfortunately I must return to the office at once. However, on my way here I encountered your brother.
Indeed not, he was riding about in his carriage, with two tricked up servants on the box. Thus he could easily deliver the manuscript to Haslinger and at the same time fetch the Clementi for Gerhard.
By the way your brother said to tell you that he’ll be late. The poor man seemed extremely anxious and harried.
Presumably with regard to his property taxes which, he let on, are due on the last day of the month.
I must leave now; do let me know what Breuning reports.
• • •
Brother, the dedication page is comme il faut—fit for a king, as the saying goes—All joking aside, will you not also write a dedicatory letter to His Majesty?
When I consider that the late father of this Prussian King is sometimes spoken of, behind the hand naturally, as your own, I’m at a loss for words. Just imagine! Were the consanguinity true, you and the dedicatee would be half brothers.
If it dishonors the memory of our mother, you could easily deny it, as I and others have urged you to do, yet you insist upon remaining silent—I can’t help but think that you take some satisfaction from such gossip.
If your unwillingness to say a word about yourself is a matter of principle, I have no choice but to bow to your silence—indeed it makes your silence golden!
Then let us change the subject—I’m surprised to find so many mistakes in the manuscript; obviously the copyist is an arch-bungler!
It’s the same in every trade—unless one does the job oneself, mistakes crop up like crab grass.
Why bring it to the publisher on foot when my carriage-and-four is waiting below?
In that case I’ll bring it to Haslinger for you—But first, with regard to this Karl business
Our sister-in-law has been in touch with me.
By no means are we entering into any kind of conspiracy.
Believe me, I am not siding with Johanna—on the contrary
If only you would listen, I have a proposal to make—Since you are opposed to his staying with his mother, and Breuning is opposed to his staying here with you, what better plan than for you to come to Gneixendorf—the two of you, en famille. It would surely do you a world of good. Anyone can see that you haven’t fully recovered from your last attack of Kolik, to say nothing of what happened with our nephew.
I beg you not to dismiss the idea out of hand.
Come now, you exaggerate my wife’s iniquities.
The daughter was too young at the time to know any better.
Even so, what is there to lose?
But I will bear all the expenses.
Won’t you at least
Calm yourself, I’m on my way to Haslinger presto!
• • •
Thank you, Ludwig, Gerhard will be overjoyed. From the moment that you mentioned the Clementi the boy has not stopped chattering about the book. Now he will have no further excuse to put off practicing.
As to Czapka, I am afraid that his ruling will satisfy neither you nor your sister-in-law; indeed it makes your brother’s invitation seem all but providential.
In brief, upon discharge from the hospital your nephew is ordered to spend the following fortnight outside of Vienna.
When I asked if the ruling permitted him to go to Hetzendorf or Döbling etc., Czapka declared that “any and all environs” were forbidden.
Because that is how long I assumed it would take for the hair to grow back in. Thus I told Czapka and, I may say, with a bit of Ulyssean cunning, that your nephew is obliged to join his regiment in two weeks’ time.
The ruling strikes me as judicious; not only does it remove him from the chance of familial strife, but from the temptations of Vienna.
I did not mean—I was thinking only of billiards and gambling.
I am concealing nothing. If your nephew has a mistress, I know nothing of it.
The name of Niemetz is unfamiliar to me; what is more, I consider such an attachment unlikely.
Suspicion aside, let us determine where he is to go.
I have no idea; perhaps Czapka assumed he would go directly to his regiment, but that is out of the question. With whom would he stay at Iglau? Or indeed elsewhere?
In fact there is no other possibility, which is why your brother’s invitation comes as such a godsend.
How much harm could the woman do in two weeks’ time?
I know you, Ludwig; once you decide to go to Gneixendorf you’ll find a way to stomach your sister-in-law. You have done so in the past and can do so again—It’s all in the deciding.
Thank goodness; at times you run Prince Hamlet a close race. Now we must inform your nephew.
It’s no imposition, I could easily stop at the hospital tomorrow. But would it not be wiser to tell him yourself or, better still, to go there with your brother? In that way your nephew won’t hold you alone responsible for the decision.
• • •
But Uncle, what I fail to understand, and in this Uncle Johann agrees with me, is why we don’t set out on Tuesday. If Czapka forbids me to be here after Monday, he’ll surely not allow me to stay two or three days more while the bookbinder binds the score.
You could write the dedicatory letter to H.M. beforehand.
Holz could bring it to the Royal Librarian for you.
Brother, my business cannot wait on so many ifs, ands and buts—I must be back in Gneixendorf by Friday at the latest.
Clearly you are forgetting the overnight stop in St. Polten—even if we set out at the crack of dawn on Wednesday
Uncle, in that case I’ll tell my mother to expect me on Monday!
I understand that I’m not to leave the hospital with anyone but you or Holz; however, if you intend to flout the ruling, I don’t see why
Brother, don’t be so quick to cry conspiracy—I merely told our nephew that we are wasting time bickering over what amounts to one day. Further, I suggested that it would be truly unkind of him to stay with his mother for so brief a period, since it would only serve to tantalize the poor woman.
I’m happy to say that our nephew bows to my greater wisdom. Thus our departure is now in the hands of the gods—or, to be exact, of the bookbinder.
• • •
Maestro, you are overhasty. Far be it from me to instruct you in the laws of nature, yet generally these matters take nine months.
Dr. Seng expects us to come for your nephew at one o’clock; hence Sali plans to serve at two. She showed me the carp, it’s a beauty!
If you think it will smooth the waters with Karl, I’ll be glad to join you for dinner. I’ll tell Sali on my way out.
Although the bookbinder assures me he hasn’t slept or eaten in three days, he no longer promises you’ll have the manuscript to-morrow.
Not until Wednesday—with luck.
I’ll simply inform His Royal Librarianship that there has been a slight delay.
Why do you assume that the Royal Librarian smokes cigarros?
That’s a different matter; of course I know that your nephew enjoys them. I’ll fetch some on my way to work. And don’t forget that Gerhard will be coming here from school; according to Breuning the boy is quite taken with the Clementi.
• • •
Prospero, thank you so much for Clementi’s System; I’m most honored by the interest you take in my playing.
In all concience I would have to admit that my fingering is not perfect.
Oh dear, I always have difficulty with sc words. Would you like to see my fingering?
I didn’t realize that you were watching for expression; I was concentrating on the fingering. In future I’ll use more pedal.
Most likely I won’t see you again before you leave for Gneixendorf.
It’s not a stroke of luck; with Gneixendorf I made certain beforehand to find out the spelling.
By the time you return there should be a noticea a good deal of improvement in my playing; I plan to practice every day.
I must go now, otherwise I’ll be late for dinner. I hope that you have a safe journey and a pleasing two weeks with your brother.
• • •
Uncle, many thanks for the cigarros. Only now does it begin to dawn on me that I have left the hospital. Just imagine, a cigarro after dinner! And what a dinner! You are right to say that your Sali is the first good cook you
Because I don’t regard her as mine.
But I don’t regard this apartment as mine, I mean as my home.
You are wrong to assume anything of the kind; my mother’s place is her’s. It so happens that I have no home at present, unless it be at Iglau.
Maestro, forgive me but I must go back to my work now.
Indeed I did. What is more, I told the man that you’ll bind him hand and foot with his very own binding cord if he fails you on Wednesday. Meanwhile don’t forget that you must still compose the dedicatory letter to H.M.
I’ll let myself out.
Uncle, I don’t wish to appear ungrateful, but if we are to leave on Wednesday, I too have a million things to attend to.
At dinner you said that the letter must be in your own hand.
In that case why ask
Very well, I’ll help you draft it, providing that you know more or less what you wish to say. But do let’s be quick about it.
Your Majesty!
One of the great happinesses of my life is that Your Majesty has most graciously permitted me to dedicate the present work to you in all humility.
Your Majesty is not only the supreme father of your subjects but also the patron of arts and sciences. How much more, therefore, must your most gracious permission delight me, seeing that I too, since I am a native of Bonn, am fortunate enough to regard myself as one of your subjects.
I request Your Majesty most graciously to accept this work as a slight indication of the high regard I cherish for your supreme virtues—Your Majesty’s most humble and most obedient
LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN
• • •
Maestro, the bookbinder has failed us! He now says that he will have it tomorrow.
There is nothing to do about it except to resume your seat and finish your porridge. Everything, including your brother’s property taxes, will simply have to wait a day.
Your brother is not late, I am early.
Your nephew assured me that he would apply himself this morning to the metronome markings.
That must be your brother now.
Brother, I can see that for myself—your face is blood red. What excuse did the scoundrel
But surely Czapka won’t grant you
Never mind H.M., if we don’t depart the day after tomorrow, I’ll be ruined!
Heavens no, that would be too dear—Why, for you to follow in a hired carriage would cost you a pretty penny.
Congratulations! However, a “token” from a monarch might turn out a mere souvenir or, God grant, a castle. What sort of token has H.M. hinted at?
Well and good, yet there is a world of difference between a decoration and something costly.
Although the Royal Order of the Red Eagle, Second Class, is nothing to sneeze at, it won’t pay your way to Gneixendorf. Call me what you will—neither one of us is so well off that he can thumb his nose at costly things. I’ll be curious to learn what Ambassador Hatzfeld reports.
Maestro, I told your brother that it wasn’t Hatzfeld but the Royal Librarian Spiker who will be coming here.
Let’s not waste time; I’ll go to the Prussian Embassy at once to postpone the meeting.
I’ll try to arrange it for the same hour tomorrow.
• • •
Maestro Beethoven, your enthusiasm does H.M. full justice. He is indeed a modern Medici, although neither Cosimo nor Lorenzo had dedicated to him a great symphony with choruses.
I cannot speak for the All-Highest; for myself I find the dedication, to say nothing of the letter, altogether praiseworthy.
I do not quite follow you.
Ah! I failed to grasp the pun. Notwithstanding the form, the worth of praise derives from the worth of its author.
Suffice it to say that H.M. regards you with favor.
If by praise in its material form you are alluding to the Royal Order of the Red Eagle, Second Class, such talk may prove more than idle gossip.
Kindly stop there; beyond that point silence, nay, the strictest silence reigns.
You may depend upon me to transmit the score as safely and swiftly—or, better still, mercurially—as the messenger of the gods.
True enough, yet Mercury was an infant when he stole the cows. Rest assured that I am much too old and loyal to H.M. to carry off your great symphony.
• • •
Frankly, Brother, if I were you I wouldn’t wish to stake my hopes on something that may—ergo may not—prove more than idle gossip.
Maestro, there isn’t the slightest doubt that you’ll receive the decoration; the only question is when.
Uncle, it surely makes no difference one way or the other; you will not be a greater man with the decoration than you are now without it.
Brother, decoration or no decoration I’ll call for you up at 5 o’clock tomorrow morning. Kindly be downstairs without delay.
Come now, it’s not as if we don’t receive the post in Lower Austria; you’ll have plenty of time to finish your correspondence there.
Well and good, but do be downstairs at 5 sharp!
• • •
VIENNA, SEPTEMBER 29, 1826
Gentlemen!
As I am just about to go off to the country, I inform you in great haste that you will soon receive the metronome markings of the symphony.
I hope that you have now received the C sharp minor quartet. Don’t be frightened at the four sharps. This work will shortly be performed in Vienna for the benefit of an artist.
Finally I must request
Brother, it is now 5:04—I’ve been waiting seven minutes! Yet lo and behold, what do I find? Instead of taking down the bags, our nephew sits here taking down a letter!
Spare me please—If you are not downstairs in exactly three minutes, you may walk to Gneixendorf.
I pointed out a mistake to your amanuensis: today is the 28th not the 29th—Thank God! or I would be undone. Do make haste!
you to hasten the necessary preliminaries connected with the publication of my collected works. I really cannot conceal from you the fact that if I did not keep my promises so honorably, you might easily find yourself at a disadvantage on account of proposals which other publishers have made to me on this subject.
Hoping to hear from you about this very soon, your devoted
BEETHOVEN