th
applause at a matinee at the house of Countess Appony, the wife of the
Austrian ambassador, and will hardly require my instruction." I became
afraid, for I was wise enough to understand he had not the least
inclination to accept me as a pupil. I quickly protested that I knew
very well I had still very, very much to learn. And, I added timidly,
I should like to be able to play his wondrously-beautiful compositions
well. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "it would be sad if people were not in a
position to play them well without my instruction." "I certainly am not
able to do so," I replied anxiously. "Well, play me something," he said.
And in a moment his reserve had vanished. Kindly and indulgently he
helped me to overcome my timidity, moved the piano, inquired whether I
were comfortably seated, let me play till I had become calm, then gently
found fault with my stiff wrist, praised my correct comprehension, and
accepted me as a pupil. He arranged for two lessons a week, then turned
in the most amiable way to my aunt, excusing himself beforehand if he
should often be obliged to change the day and hour of the lesson on
account of his delicate health. His servant would always inform us of
this.
Alas! he suffered greatly. Feeble, pale, coughing much, he often took
opium drops on sugar and gum-water, rubbed his forehead with eau de
Cologne, and nevertheless he taught with a patience, perseverance,
and zeal which were admirable. His lessons always lasted a full hour,
generally he was so kind as to make them longer. Mikuli says: "A holy
artistic zeal burnt in him then, every word from his lips was incentive
and inspiring. Single lessons often lasted literally for hours at a
stretch, till exhaustion overcame master and pupil." There were for me
also such blessed lessons. Many a Sunday I began at one o'clock to play
at Chopin's, and only at four or five o'clock in the afternoon did he
dismiss us. Then he also played, and how splendidly but not only his own
compositions, also those of other masters, in order to teach the pupil
how they should be performed. One morning he played from memory fourteen
Preludes and Fugues of Bach's, and when I expressed my joyful admiration
at this unparalleled performance, he replied: "Cela ne s'oublie jamais,"
and smiling sadly he continued: "Depuis un an je n'ai pas etudie un
quart d'heure de sante, je n'ai pas de force, pas d'energie, j'attends
toujours un peu de sante pour reprendre tout cela, mais... j'
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