against my will, though I had nothing in my mind but wine glasses, chairs, and cold meat. Close at hand, just by my landlord and his family, sat the Cornelius girls; the Schauroths were making a call on the first floor with the same object; inside there was a crowd, and outside in the street another. What with the heat in the room, the uproarious noise, the very various guests scattered about confusedly, and, at last, refreshments and drinkables, the whole thing became perfectly insane, all manner of sentiments and health were drunk with acclamation, while the people of quality sat in the middle of the swarm and held themselves erect with severe countenances. It was half-past one before we broke up. Next evening was the antipodes of all that. I had to play before the Queen and Court. It was all very proper and dressed up and polished; one’s elbow continually ran against an “Excellency.” The finest flattering speeches flew about the room, and there was I, the roturier, with my citizen-like good-fellowship and my last night’s headache. I got out of it, however, somehow, not without having to improvise on a theme set by royalty, and getting much applauded. The most charming thing was the Queen remarking that I really carried one away, so that one could think of nothing else during my music, and after that I prayed to be excused.
Such, you see, are my days at Munich. But I have forgotten that every day at twelve I have been giving little[1] L. a lesson in double counterpoint and
- ↑ Fräulein Lang.
