[Music:  Bass clef.  C major.  Bester—­]

No time is left to-day for further words and vocalization.  I beg you will at once deliver the enclosed letter.  Pray forgive my causing you this trouble; but, as you are the owner of an artistic post-office, it is scarcely possible not to take advantage of this.

You will perceive that I am now at Gneixendorf.  The name sounds like the breaking of an axletree.  The air is healthy.  The memento mori must be applied to all else.  Most marvellous and best of all Tobiases, we salute you in the name of the arts and poets!

I remain yours,

BEETHOVEN.

[Footnote 1:  The music alone and the words “I remain” at the close, are in Beethoven’s writing.  The rest is probably written by his nephew, with whom he had been obliged to take refuge in the house of his odious brother near Krems, because the police had intimated to the young delinquent that he must leave Vienna.  See No. 435 on the subject of Beethoven’s repugnance to live in his brother’s family circle, whose ignoble wife treated the gray-haired and suffering maestro as badly as possible.]

461.

TO TOBIAS HASLINGER.

GNEIXENDORF, October 13, 1826.

BEST OF ALL TOBIASES,—­

[Here follow eight bars of music.]

We are writing to you from the castle of our Signor Fratello.  I must again intrude on you by the polite request to post the two enclosed letters without delay.

I will repay you for the time I kept the “School for the Pianoforte” and all the other expenses as soon as I return to Vienna.  I am staying here longer, owing to the weather being so fine, and also not having gone to the country at all during the summer.  A quartet[1] for Schlesinger is already finished; only I don’t know which is the safest way to send it to you, that you may give it to Tendler and Manstein and receive the money in return.  Schlesinger will probably not make the remittance in gold, but if you can contrive that I should get it, you would very much oblige me, as all my publishers pay me in gold.  Besides, my worthy Tobiasserl, we stand in need of money, and it is by no means the same thing whether we have money or not.  If you get a sight of Holz make sure of him, and nail him at once.  The passion of love has so violently assailed him that he has almost taken fire, and some one jestingly wrote that Holz was a son of the deceased Papageno.

Most astounding, most admirable, and most unique of all Tobiases, farewell!  If not inconvenient, pray write me a few lines here.  Is Dr. Spiecker still in Vienna?  I am, with highest consideration and fidelity,

Yours,

BEETHOVEN.

[Footnote 1:  Probably the one in F, Op. 135.]

462.

TO CARL HOLZ.

Dec. 1826.

YOUR OFFICIAL MAJESTY,—­

I wrote to you on my arrival here a few days ago, but the letter was mislaid; I then became so unwell that I thought it best to stay in bed.  I shall therefore be very glad if you will pay me a visit.  You will find it less inconvenient, because every one has left Doebling to go to town.  I only add, in conclusion,[1]