idently much impressed by this remark, for before Mozart
left he offered him the post of Capellmeister, with a salary of three
thousand thalers (equal to about six hundred pounds sterling). Mozart
was deeply affected by the munificent offer, and for the moment he
hardly knew how to reply; then, reflecting how much he owed to the
Emperor Joseph for the latter's friendship and interest, he said: 'How
could I abandon my good Emperor?'

Though his loyalty had thus withstood the temptation of an offer
which, if accepted, would have ensured his liberation from the 'net of
embarrassments' in which he was so hopelessly entangled, the feeling
of resistance weakened later on, when his return to Vienna revealed no
improvement in the situation of affairs. Yielding therefore to the
advice of others, he told the Emperor of the King of Prussia's offer,
and at the same time tendered his resignation. Dismayed by this
unlooked-for resolution, the Emperor exclaimed: 'What, Mozart, do you
mean to forsake me?' The tone in which this remonstrance was uttered,
and the expression which accompanied it had their effect upon the
tender-hearted, grateful Mozart, and with emotion he answered: 'Your
Majesty, I throw myself upon your kindness--I remain.'

Thus perished the only chance which was destined to fall within
Mozart's grasp of freeing himself from his troubles, for soon
afterwards the Emperor fell ill and died, and no renewal of the Berlin
offer was forthcoming.

The coronation of the Emperor Joseph's successor, the Emperor Leopold,
took place at Frankfort, on October 9, 1790, and Mozart journeyed
thither for the occasion, having first pawned all his valuables in
order to raise the necessary funds. Whatever hopes Mozart may have
built upon the results of this tour were doomed to disappointment, for
though he visited and played at several towns on his return journey,
and was the recipient of numerous honours, his efforts produced no
permanent fruit, and the horizon remained as dark as ever. His arrival
in Vienna was timed with the departure of Haydn, whom Salomon, the
impressario, had come to carry off to London, and it was with a heart
heavy with gloomy forebodings that Mozart said good-bye to his truest
friend.

The month of July, 1791, found Mozart hard at work writing a magic
opera to help a friend who had taken a little theatre in the suburb of
Wieden. Whilst thus engaged he was visited by a stranger, 'a tall,
thin grave-looking man