I have very charming rooms at present, adjoining the Bastei [the ramparts], and peculiarly valuable to me on account of my health [at Baron Pasqualati’s].  I do really think I shall be able to arrange that Breuning shall come to me.  You shall have your Antiochus [a picture], and plenty of my music besides—­if, indeed, it will not cost you too much.  Your love of art does honestly rejoice me.  Only say how it is to be done, and I will send you all my works, which now amount to a considerable number, and are daily increasing.  I beg you will let me have my grandfather’s portrait as soon as possible by the post, in return for which I send you that of his grandson, your loving and attached Beethoven.  It has been brought out here by Artaria, who, as well as many other publishers, has often urged this on me.  I intend soon to write to Stoffeln [Christoph von Breuning], and plainly admonish him about his surly humor.  I mean to sound in his ears our old friendship, and to insist on his promising me not to annoy you further in your sad circumstances.  I will also write to the amiable Lorchen.  Never have I forgotten one of you, my kind friends, though you did not hear from me; but you know well that writing never was my forte, even my best friends having received no letters from me for years.  I live wholly in my music, and scarcely is one work finished when another is begun; indeed, I am now often at work on three or four things at the same time.  Do write to me frequently, and I will strive to find time to write to you also.  Give my remembrances to all, especially to the kind Frau Hofraethin [von Breuning], and say to her that I am still subject to an occasional raptus.  As for K——­, I am not at all surprised at the change in her:  Fortune rolls like a ball, and does not always stop before the best and noblest.  As to Ries [Court musician in Bonn], to whom pray cordially remember me, I must say one word.  I will write to you more particularly about his son [Ferdinand], although I believe that he would be more likely to succeed in Paris than in Vienna, which is already overstocked, and where even those of the highest merit find it a hard matter to maintain themselves.  By next autumn or winter, I shall be able to see what can be done for him, because then all the world returns to town.  Farewell, my kind, faithful Wegeler!  Rest assured of the love and friendship of your

BEETHOVEN.

15.

TO COUNTESS GIULIETTA GUICCIARDI.[1]

Morning, July 6, 1800.

MY ANGEL!  MY ALL!  MY SECOND SELF!

Only a few words to-day, written with a pencil (your own).  My residence cannot be settled till to-morrow.  What a tiresome loss of time!  Why this deep grief when necessity compels?—­can our love exist without sacrifices, and by refraining from desiring all things?  Can you alter the fact that you are not wholly mine, nor I wholly yours?  Ah! contemplate the beauties of Nature, and reconcile your spirit