124.

Munich, Jan. 8, 1779.

[Footnote:  The second grand aria that Mozart wrote for Aloysia, bears the same date.]

I hope you received my last letter, which I meant to have given to the vetturino, but having missed him I sent it by post.  I have, in the mean time, got all your letters safely through Herr Becke.  I gave him my letter to read, and he also showed me his.  I assure you, my very dear father, that I am now full of joy at returning to you, (but not to Salzburg,) as your last letter shows that you know me better than formerly.  There never was any other cause for my long delay in going home but this doubt, which gave rise to a feeling of sadness that I could no longer conceal; so I at last opened my heart to my friend Becke.  What other cause could I possibly have?  I have done nothing to cause me to dread reproach from you; I am guilty of no fault; (by a fault I mean that which does not become a Christian, and a man of honor;) in short, I now rejoice, and already look forward to the most agreeable and happy days, but only in the society of yourself and my dear sister.  I give you my solemn word of honor that I cannot endure Salzburg or its inhabitants, (I speak of the natives of Salzburg.) Their language, their manners, are to me quite intolerable.  You cannot think what I suffered during Madame Robinig’s visit here, for it is long indeed since I met with such a fool; and, for my still further annoyance, that silly, deadly dull Mosmayer was also there.

But to proceed.  I went yesterday, with my dear friend Cannabich, to the Electress to present my sonatas.  Her apartments are exactly what I should like mine one day to be, very pretty and neat, just like those of a private individual, all except the view, which is miserable.  We were there fully an hour and a half, and she was very gracious.  I have managed to let her know that I must leave this in a few days, which will, I hope, expedite matters.  You have no cause to be uneasy about Count Seeau; I don’t believe the thing will come through his hands, and even if it does, he will not venture to say a word.  Now, once for all, believe that I have the most eager longing to embrace you and my beloved sister.  If it were only not in Salzburg!  But as I have not hitherto been able to see you without going to Salzburg, I do so gladly.  I must make haste, for the post is just going.

My cousin is here.  Why?  To please me, her cousin; this is, indeed, the ostensible cause.  But—­we can talk about it in Salzburg; and, on this account, I wished very much that she would come with me there.  You will find a few lines, written by her own hand, attached to the fourth page of this letter.  She is quite willing to go; so if it would really give you pleasure to see her, be so kind as to write immediately to her brother, that the thing may be arranged.  When you see her and know her, she is certain to please you, for she is a favorite with every one.