Another involuntary witness of Mozart's triumph was the Archbishop of Salzburg. He had occasion to pay a visit to the Elector of Bavaria in January, 1775,[10] and though he arrived in Munich after the representation of the opera, and had left before its repetition, he was forced, as L. Mozart remarks with satisfaction, to listen to the eulogies pronounced by the electoral suite and all the nobility, and to receive the congratulations which were poured on him. He was so taken aback that he could only answer by shaking his head and shrugging his shoulders. It was little likely that such a scene should have raised Mozart in the favour of a man like Hieronymus. The repetition of the opera, which could only be given on Fridays, brought difficulties, inasmuch as the seconda donna, who was wretched even at her best, fell seriously ill, and the opera had to be considerably curtailed, in order to dispense with her. It took place on Wolfgang's birthday, and he thought it indispensable that he should be present at the performance, as otherwise his opera might not be recognised. The orchestra was in great confusion, since it was shamefully neglected by the director Tozi, who was at that time enacting the romance in real life with the Countess Törring-Seefeld, of which L. Mozart writes to his wife:-- Signor Tozi has gone. He had an old-standing love intrigue with the Countess v. Seefeld, in which her brother, Count Sedlizky, was implicated, as well as a certain tenor, Signor Guerrieri. The Countess left Munich six weeks ago on pretence of visiting her estates, but she has quite deserted her husband and children, and carried off money and jewels. The complicity of her brother and the two Italians was discovered by a letter; Count Sedlizky was placed under arrest, Guerrieri thrown into prison, and Tozi took refuge with the Theatin monks. The Elector sent him an assurance that he should not be imprisoned if he would submit to an examination. He issued from his hiding-place, but {MUNICH, 1775.} (151) immediately took flight to Italy. Count Sedlizky confessed everything; Guerrieri denied everything, but to little avail, since the jewels were found in Guerrieri's lodgings, sewed up in an old cushion. It is suspected that the Countess is in Holland; there she sits forlorn, since her projected escort has not joined her. L. Mozart writes to his wife to tell this story, "just to show people that Italians are rascals all the world over."[11]