at task, and we find him
writing to his mother and sister, begging them to pray for its
success, 'so that they may all live happily together again,'
'Mitridate,' as the work was called, was at length finished, after
three months' hard labour, some of which was devoted to fighting the
opposition emanating from both singers and rivals. The first
performance took place on December 26, 1770, and was conducted by
Wolfgang, whose appearance in the orchestra was the signal for a great
outburst of cheering, to be repeated again and again as the opera
proceeded. Then came loud cries of 'Evviva il Maestro! Evviva il
Maestrino!' in response to which Mozart gravely bowed his
acknowledgments, and at the same time bent his glance towards the spot
where his father sat with his eyes covered with his hand, in order to
hide the tears of pride and joy which filled them to overflowing.
Mingled with these feelings, however, Leopold felt a deep
thankfulness in his heart that he had been spared to watch over his
son's career, and to be a witness of his success.
'Mitridate' had indeed succeeded even beyond their utmost hopes; it
was repeated twenty times before crowded houses, and its success
brought with it the honour of election as 'Maestro di Capella' (the
Italian equivalent of the German title 'Capellmeister') by the
Accademia Filarmonica. Mozart's position was now assured, and he had
nothing more to fear from intrigues or cabals. So that when, in
August, 1771, we find him once more in Milan, he is on cordial terms
with all his fellow-artists, and hard at work composing a dramatic
serenata for the approaching marriage of the Archduke Ferdinand with
Princess Beatrice of Modena. He is working amidst a Babel of sounds,
for in the room above dwells a violinist, in the room below another,
whilst a singing-master lives next door, and an oboist opposite. But
he is not dismayed. 'It is capital for composing,' he writes to
Marianne; 'it gives one new ideas.'
The serenata, 'Ascanio in Alba'--an allegorical pastoral play--was a
great success, and Hasse, a master of opera, who had also composed a
work for the occasion, was fain to admit that he stood nowhere
compared with Mozart. 'This boy,' he exclaimed, 'will cause us all to
be forgotten.' The Empress, who had commissioned Mozart to write the
work, was so pleased with the result that, in addition to the
stipulated fee, she presented the composer with a gold watch with her
portrait set in diamon
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