l sort of canzona which I had set a few
days before. I had never dreamed that it could sound like that I felt
the power of the music going through and through me; tears of joy and
rapture stood in my eyes; I seized Teresina's hand, and pressing it to
my lips a thousand times, swore I would never leave her.

"Lauretta looked upon my intimacy with her sister with envious but
suppressed vexation, and she could not do without me, for, in spite of
her skill, she was unable to study a new piece without help; she read
badly, and was rather uncertain in her time. Teresina, on the contrary,
sang everything at sight, and her ear for time was unparalleled. Never
did Lauretta give such free rein to her caprice and violence as when
her accompaniments were being practised. They were never right for her;
she looked upon them as a necessary evil; the piano ought not to be
heard at all, it should always be _pianissimo_; so there was nothing
but giving way to her again and again, and altering the time just as
the whim happened to come into her head at the moment But now I took a
firm stand against her; I combated her impertinences; I taught her that
an accompaniment devoid of energy was not conceivable, and that there
was a marked difference between supporting and carrying along the song
and letting it run to riot, without form and without time. Teresina
faithfully lent me her assistance. I composed nothing but pieces for
the Church, writing all the solos for a voice of low register.
Teresina, too, tyrannised over me not a little, to which I submitted
with a good grace, since she had more knowledge of, and (so at least I
thought) more appreciation for, German seriousness than her sister.

"We were touring in South Germany. In a little town we met an Italian
tenor who was making his way from Milan to Berlin. My fair companions
went in ecstasies over their countryman; he stuck close to them,
cultivating in particular Teresina's acquaintance, so that to my great
vexation I soon came to play rather a secondary part. Once, just as I
was about to enter the room with a roll of music under my arm, the
voices of my companions and the tenor, engaged in an animated
conversation, fell upon my ear. My name was mentioned; I pricked up my
ears; I listened. I now understood Italian so well that not a word
escaped me. Lauretta was describing the tragical occurrence of the
concert when I cut short her trill by prematurely striking down the
concluding not