Letter 148 — Vienna, May 9, 1781
Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1781 · Lady Wallace translation, 1865 · from The Letters of Mozart (Annotated), Blacksmith & Witches Classics, Volume 13
I AM still filled with the gall of bitterness; and I feel sure that you, my good kind father, will sympathize with me. My patience has been so long tried that it has at last given way. I have no longer the misfortune to be in the Salzburg service, and to-day is a happy day for me.
Three times already has this — I know not what to call him — said the most insulting and impertinent things to my face, which I did not repeat to you, from the wish to spare your feelings, and I only refrained from taking my revenge on the spot because I always had you, my dear father, before my eyes. He called me a knave and a dissolute fellow, and told me to take myself off. And I endured it all, though I felt that not only my own honor but yours was aggrieved by this; but as you would have it so, I was silent. Now hear what passed. Eight days ago the messenger came to me quite unexpectedly, and said I must instantly leave my lodgings. Due notice had been given to the others, but not to me. I packed up my things hurriedly, and old Madame Weber was so kind as to take me into her house, where I have a pretty room, and am with obliging people, ready to supply me at once with all that I require, (not so easy to procure when quite alone.) I fixed my journey for Wednesday the 9th (this very day) with the post-carriage. Not being able, however, in the interim to collect the money I have yet to receive, I postponed my journey till Saturday. When I went to the Archbishop to-day, the valet told me that the Prince meant to give me a packet to take charge of. I asked whether it was pressing, on which he said yes, that it was of great importance. “ Then I regret that I cannot have the honor of
being of use to his Highness on this occasion; for, owing to particular reasons, (which I mentioned,) I am not to leave this till Saturday. I am no longer living in this house, and must pay my own way, so it is evident that I cannot set off till I have the means of doing so; for surely no one can wish me to be a loser.” Kleinmayrn, Moll, Brunetti, and the two valets, all said I was quite right. When I went in to the Archbishop, — N. B., I must tell you that Schlauka, one of the valets, advised me to make the excuse that the post-carriage was full, for that would be a valid reason in his eyes, — when I entered the room, the first thing he said was, “ Well! when are you going, young fellow? ” I replied, “ I intended to have gone to-night, but every place in the post-carriage is already engaged.” Then came all in a breath that I was the most dissipated fellow he knew, no man served him so badly as I did, and he recommended me to set off the same day, or else he would write home to stop my salary. It was impossible to get in a syllable, for his words blazed away like a fire. I heard it all with calmness; he actually told me to my face the deliberate falsehood, that I had a salary of 500 florins — called me a ragamuffin, a scamp, a rogue. Oh! I really cannot write all he said. At last my blood began to boil, and I said, “ Your Grace does not appear to be satisfied with me.” “ How I do you dare to threaten me, you rascal? There is the door, and I tell you I will have nothing more to do with such a low fellow! ” At last I said, “ Nor I
with you.” “Begone!” said he; while I replied, as I left the room, “ The thing is settled, and you shall have it to-morrow in writing.” I put it to you, my dear father, if I was not rather too late in saying this than too soon. My honor is more precious to me than all else, and I know it is the same to you. Be under no anxiety on my account; I am so sure of success here, that for a much less cause I would have given up my situation. I have, besides, three different times had good reason to do so, till such treatment seemed to become quite a matter of course. I was twice called a cowardly fellow, so I was resolved not to deserve the name a third time. So long as the Archbishop remains here, I will not give a concert. Your fear that this will bring me into bad odor with the Emperor and the nobility, is quite unfounded. The Archbishop is hated here, and most of all by the Emperor. In fact, not having been invited to Luxemburg is the very cause of his rage. By next post I mean to send you a little money, to show you that I am in no difficulty here. Moreover, I beg you to be cheerful, for my good fortune is now about to begin, and I hope my good fortune will always be yours also. Write to me by some private hand that you are satisfied, — and in truth you may well be so, — but publicly abuse me as much as you like, that none of the blame may fall on you. If, in spite of this, the Archbishop should be guilty of the smallest impertinence towards you, then I beg you and my sister will come straight to me at Vienna, for I
give you my word of honor that we can all three live here perfectly well. Still I should be glad if you could endure it for a year. Don’t write to me again to the Deutsches Haus, nor enclose my letters in their parcel. I want to have nothing more to do with Salzburg. I hate the Archbishop to madness. Write to me at Peter’s “ im Auge Gottes ” on the second floor. Let me soon have your approval, for that alone is wanting to my present happiness.