The Letters, vol 1 | Page 9

also went to a
church to hear a mass by Signor Ciccio di Majo, and it was most
beautiful music. Signora de' Amicus sang incomparably. We are, thank
God, very well, and I feel particularly so when a letter from Salzburg
arrives. I beg you will write to me every post-day, even if you have
nothing to write about, for I should like to have a letter by every post. It
would not be a bad idea to write me a little letter in Italian."]

14.
Naples, June 5, 1770.
Vesuvius is smoking fiercely! Thunder and lightning and blazes! Haid
homa gfresa beim Herr Doll. Das is a deutscha Compositor, und a
browa Mo. [Footnote: "Today we dined with Herr Doll, he is a good
composer and a worthy man" [Vienna Patois]] Now I begin to describe
my course of life.--Alle 9 ore, qualche volta anche alle dieci mi svelgio,
e poi andiamo fuor di casa, e poi pranziamo da un trattore, e dopo
pranzo scriviamo, e poi sortiamo, e indi ceniamo, ma che cosa? Al
giorno di grasso, un mezzo pollo ovvero un piccolo boccone d'arrosto;
al giorno di magro un piccolo pesce; e di poi andiamo a dormire. Est-ce
que vous avez compris?- -Redma dafir Soisburgarisch, don as is
gschaida. Wir sand Gottlob gesund da Voda und i. [Footnote: "I rise
generally every morning at 9 o'clock, but sometimes not till 10, when
we go out. We dine at a restaurateur's, after dinner I write, and then we
go out again, and afterwards sup, but on what? on jours gras, half a
fowl, or a small slice of roast meat, on jours maigres a little fish, and
then we go to sleep. Do you understand? Let us talk Salzburgisch, for
that is more sensible. Thank God, my father and I are well" [Patois]] I
hope you and mamma are so also. Naples and Rome are two drowsy
cities. A scheni Schrift!
net wor? [Footnote: "Fine writing, is it not?" [Patois.]] Write to me, and

do not be so lazy. Altrimente avrete qualche bastonate di me. Quel
plaisir! Je te casserai la tete. [Footnote: "Otherwise I will cudgel you
soundly. What a pleasure--to break your head!"] I am delighted with
the thoughts of the portraits [of his mother and sister, wno had
promised to have their likenesses taken], und i bi korios wias da gleich
sieht; wons ma gfoin, so los i mi und den Vodan a so macho. Maidli,
lass Da saga, wo list dan gwesa he? [Footnote: "And I am anxious to
see what they are like, and then I will have my father and myself also
taken. Fair maiden, say, where have you been, eh?" [Patois.]] The opera
here is Jomelli's; it is fine, but too grave and old-fashioned for this
stage. Madame de' Amicis sings incomparably, and so does Aprile,
who used to sing at Milan. The dancing is miserably pretentious. The
theatre beautiful. The King has been brought up in the rough
Neapolitan fashion, and at the opera always stands on a stool, so that he
may look a little taller than the Queen, who is beautiful and so gracious,
for she bowed to me in the most condescending manner no less than six
times on the Molo.

15.
Naples, June 16, 1770.
I AM well and lively and happy as ever, and as glad to travel. I made
an excursion on the Mediterranean. I kiss mamma's hand and Nannerl's
a thousand times, and am your son, Steffl, and your brother, Hansl.

16.
Rome, July 7, 1770.
CARA SORELLA MIA,--
I am really surprised that you can compose so charmingly. In a word,
the song is beautiful. Often try something similar. Send me soon the
other six minuets of Haydn. Mademoiselle, j'ai l'honneur d'etre votre
tres-humble serviteur et frere,
CHEVALIER DE MOZART.
[He had received from the Pope the cross of the Order of the Golden
Spur.]

17.

Bologna, July 21, 1770.
I WISH mamma joy of her name-day, and hope that she may live for
many hundred years to come and retain good health, which I always
ask of God, and pray to Him for you both every day. I cannot do honor
to the occasion except with some Loretto bells, and wax tapers, and
caps, and gauze when I return. In the mean time, good-bye, mamma. I
kiss your hand a thousand times, and remain, till death, your attached
son.

18.
Io vi auguro d'Iddio, vi dia sempre salute, e vi lasci vivere ancora cent'
anni e vi faccia morire quando avrete mille anni. Spero che voi
impararete meglio conoscermi ni avvenire e che poi ne giudicherete
come ch' egli vi piace. Il tempo non mi permette di scriver motto. La
penna non vale un corno, ne pure quello