Again three days, and we find him writing at midnight to his “liebstes bestes Weibchen” an account of his activities: 

“After the opera we went home.  Then came the happiest of all moments to me; I found the long ardently wished-for letter from you, my darling, my beloved!  I went quickly in triumph to my room, and kissed it over and over again before I broke it open, and then rather devoured than read it.  I stayed a long time in my room, for I could not read over your letter often enough, or kiss it often enough.

“Darling wife, I have a number of requests to make of you: 

“1st.  I beg you not to be melancholy. 2d.  That you will take care of yourself, and not expose yourself to the spring breezes. 3d.  That you will not go out to walk alone,—­indeed, it would be better not to walk at all. 4th.  That you feel entirely assured of my love.  I have not written you a single letter without placing your dear portrait before me. 5th.  I beg you not only to be careful of your honour and mine in your conduct, but to be equally guarded as to appearances.  Do not be angry at this request; indeed, it ought to make you love me still better, from seeing the regard I have for my honour. 6th.  Lastly, I wish you would enter more into details in your letters.  Now farewell, my best beloved!  Remember that every night before going to bed I converse with your portrait for a good half-hour, and the same when I awake.  O stru! stru! I kiss and embrace you 1,095,060,437,082 times (this will give you a fine opportunity to exercise yourself in counting), and am ever your most faithful husband and friend.”

Some of his letters are apparently lost, for one dated May 23d gives a list of the letters he had written to his wife—­eleven in all (one of them in French)—­between April 8th and May 23d.  He complains bitterly that in this same time he had only six from her.  There is worse news yet to add, seeing how poor they were: 

“My darling little wife, when I return, you must rejoice more in me than in the money I bring. 100 Friedrichs-d’or don’t make 900, but 700, florins,—­at least so I am told here. 2d.  Lichnowsky being in haste left me here, so I am obliged to pay my own board (in that expensive place, Potsdam). 3d.——­borrowed 100 florins from me, his purse being at so low an ebb.  I really could not refuse his request—­you know why. 4th.  My concert at Leipzig turned out badly, as I always predicted it would; so I went out of my way nearly a hundred miles almost for nothing.  You must be satisfied with me, and with hearing that I am so fortunate as to be in favour with the king.  What I have written to you must rest between ourselves.”

His disappointment at the meagre financial returns from his tour was embittered by the serious illness of his Constanze and the drain upon his sympathy, his time, and his money.  It was necessary for him to despatch in various directions a series of those pathetic begging letters that make up so much of his later correspondence.