Mozart indignantly writes to his father from Vienna: “You are looking forward to seeing me again, my dearest father! That alone can persuade me to leave Vienna…We had a grand concert here yesterday—probably the last. It was a great success, and in spite of all the obstacles put in my way, I still had a better orchestra than Brunetti, as Ceccarelli will tell you; I had so much trouble arranging all this, but it’s easier if I tell you about it in person…But if anything like it were to happen again, I can assure you that I’d lose all patience, and you’d certainly forgive me for doing so. And I beg you, my dearest father, to allow me to return to Vienna next Lent, for it certainly won’t be a disaster for me, most certainly not.”
“But you must promise me in your next letter—for only on this condition shall I return to Salzburg, so that I can give my word to the ladies here. Stephanie is going to give me a German opera to write. And so I await your answer…I still can’t say when or how I shall leave…Yesterday, after the concert, the ladies kept me at the harpsichord for a whole hour, I think that if I’d not slipped away, I’d still be sitting there; I thought I’d already played quite enough for nothing.”