Meanwhile, the young woman’s mother had by this time, got the bit fast in her teeth.  Now, the Baroness Waldstaedten had been touched by the troubles of the young lovers and had invited Constanze to visit her for some weeks.  This excited the mother’s apprehension, perhaps not unwisely in view of the levity of the baroness’ standards of conduct, and she insisted upon Constanze cutting her visit short.

When Constanze refused this, Frau Weber sent word that if she did not return immediately, the law would be sent for her.  This threat drove Mozart to desperation, and the marriage degenerated into a race between the priest and the policeman.  Fortunately the priest won.  The baroness wrote in person to the father for his consent, advancing Mozart 1,000 gulden to cover the 500 gulden which Constanze would have as a marriage portion; and secured their release from the delayful necessity of publishing the banns.

Romeo and his Juliet were married on August 4, 1782.  Shortly after the wedding the father’s consent arrived.  It was a rather stingy consent however, and warned Mozart that he could not expect pecuniary assistance and that he ought to tell Constanze of this fact.

There was an implied insult to the girl’s love in this ungracious remark, and it stung Mozart deeply.  For Constanze, who had torn up the contract of betrothal on a previous occasion, had not been the girl to take money into account.

Three days after the wedding Mozart wrote to his father a long account of it with a promise that he and his bride would take the first opportunity of asking forgiveness in person.  “No one attended the marriage but Constanze’s mother and youngest sister, Herr von Thorwarth in his capacity of guardian, Herr von Zetto (Landrath) who gave away the bride, and Gilofsky, as my best man.  When the ceremony was over, both my wife and I shed tears; all present (even the priest) were touched on seeing the emotion of our hearts.  Our sole wedding festivities consisted of a supper, which Baroness Waldstaedten gave us, and indeed it was more princely than baronial.  My darling is now one hundred times more joyful at the idea of going to Salzburg; and I am willing to stake—­ay, my very life, that you will rejoice still more in my happiness when you really know her; if, indeed, in your estimation, as in mine, a high-principled, honest, virtuous, and pleasing wife ought to make a man happy.”

Now we enter upon the test of this romantic devotion—­this wedlock of the twenty-six year old musician and the maiden of nineteen, who married in spite of the opposition of both families and in spite of the poverty that awaited them.  There are many accounts of the domestic career of these two, written in a tone of patronage or cynicism.  But this tone is gratuitous on the part of those who assume it.  As thorough a study of the facts and documents as I can make, shows no ground whatsoever for refusing to accept this love-match as an ideal wedding of ideal congeniality, and mutual and common devotion.