To Nikolaus Simrock,
Bonn
Vienna, August 2, 1794

Anderson v1 pg 15-16 letter #12


Dear Simrock !   

     Indeed I deserve a bit of a scolding from you for having kept back your v[ariations] for so long. But truly I am not lying when I tell you that an accumulation of business affairs prevented me from correcting them at once.

     What is missing you yourself will discover. By the way, I must congratualate you on your engraving, which is beautiful, clear and legible. Really, if you continue to work in this way, you will become one day the chief of engravers, of engravers of music, I mean --

     In my previous letter I promised to send you some of my compositions; and you treated my statement as if it were merely the fine phrase of a courtier. How on earth can I have merited such a description? -- Fie, who in these democratic times of ours would indulge in that kind of talk? Well, in order to clear myself of the epithet you have attached to me, you are to receive, as soon as I have made the grand review of my compositions which is now about to take place, something which you will certainly engrave --

     Moreover, I have looked around for an agent and have found an excellent and capable fellow. His name is Traeg. Now all you have to do is to write to him or to me and stae what conditions you are prepared to accept. He wants you to give him discount amounting to a third. May the devil get the hang of your business dealings -- We are having very hot weather here; and the Viennese are afraid that soon they will not be able to get any more ice cream. For, as the winter was so mild, ice is scarce. Here various important people have been locked up; it is said that a revolution was about to break out -- But I believe that so long as an Austrian can get his brown ale and his little sausages, he is not likely to revolt. People say that the gates leading to the suburbs are to be closed at 10 p.m. The soldiers have loaded their muskets with ball. You dare not raise your voice here or the police will take you into custody.

     If your daughters are now grown up, do fashion one to be my bride. For if I have to live at Bonn as a bachelor, I will certainly not stay there for long -- Surely you too must now feel rather anxious.

     How is our good friend Ries? I will write to him soon. He is bound to think badly of me. But that cursed letter-writing -- and in this respect I cannot change -- Have you already performed my partita?

     Write to me now and then.

                                                                                              Your,
                                                                                                         Beethoven

     Do please send me a few c[opies] of the first variations as well.