If time permitted, it would be my duty to trouble Herr von Molk and Herr von Schiedenhofen with a few lines; but as that most indispensable of all things is wanting, I hope they will forgive my neglect, and consider me henceforth absolved from this honor.  I have begun various cassations [a kind of divertimento], so I have thus responded to your desire.  I don’t think the piece in question can be one of mine, for who would venture to publish as his own composition what is, in reality, written by the son of the Capellmeister, and whose mother and sister are in the same town?  Addio—­farewell!  My sole recreations consist in dancing English hornpipes and cutting capers.  Italy is a land of sleep; I am always drowsy here.  Addio—­good-bye!

20.

Bologna, August 21, 1770.

I am not only still alive, but in capital spirits.  To-day I took a fancy to ride a donkey, for such is the custom in Italy, so I thought that I too must give it a trial.  We have the honor to associate with a certain Dominican who is considered a very pious ascetic.  I somehow don’t quite think so, for he constantly takes a cup of chocolate for breakfast, and immediately afterwards a large glass of strong Spanish wine; and I have myself had the privilege of dining with this holy man, when he drank a lot of wine at dinner and a full glass of very strong wine afterwards, two large slices of melons, some peaches and pears for dessert, five cups of coffee, a whole plateful of nuts, and two dishes of milk and lemons.  This he may perhaps do out of bravado, but I don’t think so—­at all events, it is far too much; and he eats a great deal also at his afternoon collation.

21.

Bologna, Sept. 8, 1770.

Not to fail in my duty, I must write a few words.  I wish you would tell me in your next letter to what brotherhoods I belong, and also let me know the prayers I am bound to offer up for them.  I am now reading “Telemachus,” and am already in the second volume.  Good-bye for the present!  Love to mamma.

22.

I hope that mamma and you are both well, but I wish you would answer my letters more punctually in time to come; indeed, it is far easier to answer than to originate.  I like these six minuets far better than the first twelve; we often played them to the Countess [Pallivicini, at whose country-seat, near Bologna, father and son spent some months].  We only wish we could succeed in introducing a taste for German minuets into Italy, as their minuets last nearly as long as entire symphonies.  Forgive my bad writing; I could write better, but I am in such a hurry.

23.

Bologna, Sept. 29, 1770.

In order to fill up papa’s letter, I intend to add a few words.  I grieve deeply to hear of Jungfrau Marthe’s long-continued illness, which the poor girl bears, too, with such patience.  I hope, please God, she may still recover.  If not, we must not grieve too much, for the will of God is always best, and God certainly knows better than we do whether it is most for our good to be in this world or in the next.  But it will cheer her to enjoy this fine weather once more after all the rain.