The journey was proceeded with this time slowly. And, indeed, what cause was there for haste? He made a long stay in Strassburg and Mannheim, and entered into some negotiations there about the composition of a melodrama. “On receipt of this you shall take your departure,” was the positive order sent him; and yet there was “a real scramble” for him at Mannheim. His father consoles him by assuring him that he is not at all opposed to his love for Aloysia, and this all the less, since now she was able to make his fortune, not he hers! While on his journey, Mozart had invited “Baesle” also to Munich, adding: “You will, perhaps, get a great part to play.” But, strange!--Aloysia does not seem, when he enters, to recognize the very man for whom she once had wept. Mozart, therefore, seated himself hastily at the piano, and sang aloud: “Ich lass das Maedl gern, das mich nicht will!”[4] This was told by Aloysia’s younger sister, Constance, who was afterwards Mozart’s wife, to her second husband, and she gave as the reason of it, the fact that Aloysia’s taste was offended because, following the custom of the time, he wore black buttons, in mourning for his mother, on his red coat. It may be, however, that the officers and gentlemen of the court pleased the prima donna better than the little man whose heart-tones had once entranced her. This time also, he left the faithless one a gift, a composition of his own, not, however, one which sprung from his heart, but one which showed his power as an artist. The aria which he now wrote for her, _Popopoli di Tessaglia_, discovers to us completely the full meaning of his _Non so d’onde viene_, in his own life. Aloysia was not happy. We shall have more to say of this hereafter. Mozart did not, at this time, weep away his grief in tones. His pride vanquished his love. But his letters depict the state of his mind all the more truly, now that the hopes he had entertained of obtaining a position in Munich turned to smoke. Still, his present sojourn in Munich was destined to lead soon to a very important event in his life as an artist. He regrets that he cannot write, because his heart is attuned to weeping. A friend told the father that Wolfgang cried for a whole hour, spite of all efforts to dry his tears. And, writing of Mozart’s beautiful inner self, he says: “I never saw a child with more tenderness and love for his father than your son. His heart is so pure, so child-like to me, how much more pure and tender must it be for his father! Only, one must hear him; and who is there that would not do him justice as the best of characters, the most upright and most ardent of men!” We think we hear the sounds of the well-spring from which the tones of the _Idomeneo_ and the aria of the _Ilia_ were soon to flow.