The Life of Ludwig van Beethoven, Volume IThayer, Alexander Wheelock
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The Life of Ludwig van Beethoven, Volume I
Thayer, Alexander Wheelock
Beethoven, Ludwig van, 1770-1827
Not until I have lived almost a year in the capital do you receive
a letter from me, and yet you were most assuredly perpetually in
my liveliest memory. Often in thought I have conversed with you
and your dear family, though not with that peace of mind which I
could have desired. It was then that the wretched misunderstanding
hovered before me and my conduct presented itself as most
despicable. But it was too late. O, what would I not give could I
obliterate from my life those actions so degrading to myself and
so contrary to my character. True, there were many circumstances
which tended to estrange us, and I suspect that tales whispered
in our ears of remarks made one about the other were chiefly
that which prevented us from coming to an understanding. We both
believed that we were speaking from conviction; whereas it was
only in anger, and we were both deceived. Your good and noble
character, my dear friend, is sufficient assurance to me that
you forgave me long ago. But we are told that the sincerest
contrition consists in acknowledgment of our faults; and to
do this has been my desire. And now let us drop the curtain on
the affair, only drawing from it this lesson--that when friends
quarrel it is much better to have it out face to face than to turn
to a go-between.
With this you will receive a dedication from me to you concerning
which I only wish that the work were a larger one and more worthy
of you. I was plagued here to publish the little work, and I took
advantage of the opportunity, my estimable E., to show my respect
and friendship for you and my enduring memory of your family. Take
this trifle and remember that it comes from a friend who respects
you greatly. Oh, if it but gives you pleasure, my wishes will
be completely fulfilled. Let it be a reminder of the time when
I spent so many and such blessed hours at your home. Perhaps it
will keep me in your recollection until I eventually return to
you, which, it is true, is not likely to be soon. But how we shall
rejoice then, my dear friend--you will then find in your friend a
happier man, from whose visage time and a kindlier fate shall have
smoothed out all the furrows of a hateful past.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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