The occurrence that took place yesterday, which you will see in the police
reports, is only too likely to attract the notice of the established police
to this affair. The testimony of a person whose name is not given entirely
coincides with yours. In such a case private individuals cannot act; the
authorities alone are empowered to do so.[1]

Yours,

BEETHOVEN.

[Footnote 1: Schindler says, "Brother Johann, the apothecary, was ill in
the summer of 1823, and during that time his disreputable wife visited her
lover, an officer, in the barracks, and was often seen walking with him in
the most frequented places, besides receiving him in her own house. Her
husband, though confined to bed, could see her adorning herself to go in
search of amusement with her admirer. Beethoven, who was informed of this
scandal from various quarters, appealed vigorously to his brother, in the
hope of persuading him to separate from his ill-conducted wife, but failed
in his attempt, owing to the indolence of this ill-regulated man." It was
Schindler, too, who prevented Beethoven making any further application to
the police. The following note probably refers to this. In his note-book of
November, 1823, is a Canon written by Beethoven on his brother Johann and
his family, on these words, "Fettluemerl Bankert haben triumphirt," no doubt
an allusion to the disgraceful incident we have mentioned. Brother Johann's
wife had a very lovely daughter before she married him.]

360.

TO SCHINDLER.

WISEACRE! I kiss the hem of your garment!

361.

TO HERR GRILLPARZER, COURT COMPOSER.

ESTEEMED SIR,--

The directors wish to know your terms with regard to "Melusina." [See No.
331.] In so far she has asserted herself, which is certainly better than
being obliged to importune others on such matters. My household has been in
great disorder for some time past, otherwise I should have called on you,
and requested you to visit me in return.[1] Pray, write your conditions at
once, either to the directors or to myself, in which case I will undertake
to deliver them. I have been so busy that I could not call on you, nor can
I do so now, but hope to see you before long. My number is 323.

In the afternoons you will find me in the coffee-house opposite the
"Goldene Birne." If you do come, I beg that you may be _alone_. That
obtrusive appendage, Schindler, has long been most obnoxious to me, as you
must have perceived when at Hetzendorf,[2] _otium est