Tuesday, November 07, 2006


I have no great hopes of anything happening in Munich. Frau von Durst has chicken pox. My brother's opera is delayed. Papa has said that he doesn't wish to work for the Elector under any circumstances and running about as he has done these last weeks and teaching singers to suck eggs when they know how to do so already is a dog's life. We are all to return to Salzburg and my dear Mama forthwith. I have made an extraordinary discovery this morning. I am my father in petticoats. N.


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