Page:EB1911 - Volume 18.djvu/982

 In October 1770 Wolfgang and his father returned to Milan for the completion and production of the new opera. The libretto, entitled Mitridate, Re di Ponto, was furnished by an obscure poet from Turin, to the great disappointment of the young maestro, who had hoped to set a drama by Metastasio. The progress of the work was interrupted from time to time by the miserable intrigues which seem inseparable from the lyric stage, exacerbated in this particular case by the jealousy of the resident professors, who refused to believe either that an Italian opera could be written by a native of Germany, or that a boy of fourteen could manage the orchestra of La Scala, at that time the largest in Europe. Fortunately the detractors were effectively silenced at the first full rehearsal; and on the 26th of December Wolfgang took his seat at the harpsichord and directed his work amidst a storm of genuine applause. The success of the piece was unprecedented. It had a continuous run of twenty nights, and delighted even the most captious critics.

Wolfgang’s triumph was now complete. After playing with his usual success in Turin, Verona, Venice, Padua and other Italian cities, he returned with his father to Salzburg in March 1771, commissioned to compose a grand dramatic serenata for the approaching marriage of the archduke Ferdinand, and an opera for La Scala, to be performed during the season of 1773. The wedding took place at Milan on the 21st of October; and the serenata, Ascanio in Alba, was produced with an effect which completely eclipsed the new opera of Hasse, Ruggiero, composed for the same festivity. Hasse generously uttered the often-quoted prophecy, “This boy will cause us all to be forgotten.”

During the absence of Wolfgang and his father the good archbishop of Salzburg died; and in the spring of the year 1772 Hieronymus, count of Colloredo, was elected in his stead, to the horror of all who were acquainted with his real character. The Mozart family did their best to propitiate their new lord, for whose installation Wolfgang, after his return from Milan, composed an opera, Il Sogno di Scipione; but the newly-elected prelate had no taste for art, and was utterly incapable of appreciating the charm of any intellectual pursuit whatever. For a time, however, things went on smoothly. In October the father and son once more visited Milan for the preparation and production of the new opera, Lucio Silla, which was produced at Christmas with a success quite equal to that of Mitridate, and ran between twenty and thirty nights.

In the meantime Wolfgang continued to produce new works with incredible rapidity. In 1775 he composed an opera for Munich, La Finta giardiniera, produced on the 13th of January. In the following March he set to music Metastasio’s dramatic cantata, Il Re pastore. Concertos, masses, symphonies, sonatas and other important works, both vocal and instrumental, followed each other without a pause. And this fertility of invention, instead of exhausting his genius, seemed only to stimulate it to still more indefatigable exertions. But the pecuniary return was so inconsiderable that in 1777 Leopold Mozart asked the archbishop for leave of absence for the purpose of making a professional tour. This was refused on the ground of the prelate’s dislike to “that system of begging.” Wolfgang then requested permission to resign his appointment, which was only an honorary one, for the purpose of making the tour with his mother. The archbishop was furious; but the plan was carried out at last, and on the 23rd of September the mother and son started for Munich. The results were not encouraging. Leopold hoped that his son, now twenty-one years old, might obtain some profitable court appointment; but in this he was disappointed. And, worse still, poor Wolfgang fell in love at Mannheim with Aloysia Weber, a promising young vocalist, whose father, the prompter of the theatre (uncle of the great composer Weber), was very nearly penniless. On hearing of this Leopold ordered his wife and son to start instantly for Paris, where they arrived on the 23rd of March 1778. Wolfgang’s usual success, however, seemed on this occasion to have deserted him. His reception was a cold one; and, to add to his misery, his mother fell seriously ill and died on the 3rd of July. Reduced

almost to despair by this new trouble, he left Paris in September, rested for a while on his way home in Mannheim and Munich, was received by Aloysia Weber with coldness almost amounting to contempt, and in June 1779 returned to Salzburg, hoping against hope that he might make some better terms with the archbishop, who relented so far as to attach a salary of 500 florins (about £50) to his “concertmeister’s” appointment, with leave of absence in case he should be engaged to write an opera elsewhere.

Two years later the desired opportunity presented itself. He was engaged to compose an opera for Munich for the carnival of 1781. The libretto was furnished by the abbate Varesco, court chaplain at Salzburg. On the 29th of January 1781 the work was produced under the title of Idomeneo, re di Creta, with triumphant success, and thenceforth Mozart’s position as an artist was assured; for this was not only the finest work he had ever written but incontestably the finest opera that had ever yet been placed upon the stage in any age or country.

And now the archbishop’s character exhibited itself in its true colours. Art for its own sake he utterly disdained; but it flattered his vanity to retain a famous artist in his service with the power of insulting him at will. On hearing of the success of Idomeneo he instantly summoned the composer to Vienna, where he was spending the season. Mozart lost not a moment in presenting himself, but he soon found his position intolerable. That he should be condemned to dine with his patron’s servants was the fault of the age, but the open disrespect with which the lowest menials treated him was due to the archbishop’s example. His salary was reduced from 500 to 400 florins, he was left to pay his own travelling expenses, and he was not permitted to add to his means by giving a concert on his own account or to play anywhere but at the archiepiscopal palace. Archbishop Hieronymus was hated at court, and most of all by the emperor Joseph, who, on retiring to Laxenburg for the summer, did not place his name on the list of invited guests. This offended him so deeply that he left Vienna in disgust. The household were sent on to Salzburg, but Mozart was left to find lodgings at his own expense. Thereupon he sent in his resignation; and for this act of contumacy was insulted by the archbishop in terms too vulgar for translation. He persevered, however, in his resolution, taking lodgings in a house rented by his old friends the Webers, and vainly hoping for pupils, since Vienna at this season was perfectly empty. Happily he had a sincere though not a generous well-wisher in the emperor, and a firm friend in the archduke Maximilian. By the emperor’s command he wrote a German opera, Die Entführung aus dem Serail, which on the 16th of July 1782 was received with acclamation, and not long afterwards was performed with equal success at Prague. This great work raised the national “Singspiel” to a level commensurate with that which Idomeneo had already attained for the Italian “opera seria.”

The next great event in Mozart’s life was not what one would have wished for him. Though Aloysia Weber had long since rejected him, his renewed intimacy with the family led to an imprudent marriage with her younger sister, Constance, a woman neither his equal in intellect nor his superior in prudence. The wedding took place at St Stephen’s on the 16th of August 1782. By the end of the year the thriftless pair were deeply in debt. Mozart composed incessantly, played at numberless concerts, and was in greater favour than ever at court and with the nobility; but to the last day of his life his purse was empty. He had, however, many kind friends, not the least affectionate of whom was the veteran Haydn, who was sincerely attached to him. With Gluck he was on terms of courteous intercourse only. Salieri detested him, and made no secret of his dislike.

Mozart’s next dramatic venture was a German singspiel in one act, Der Schauspieldirektor, produced at Schönbrunn, on the 7th of February 1786. Not quite three months later, on the 1st of May, he produced his marvellous Le Nozze di Figaro, the libretto for which was adapted from Beaumarchais by the abbé da Ponte. The reception of this magnificent work was enthusiastic. But Vienna was a hotbed of intrigue. Everything that could