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Updated: June 25, 2025
As a matter of fact it was merely an underhanded attempt at assassination. The thing was signed with a big, isolated “W.” Wurzelmann, the little slave, had shot from his ambush. Other musical journals copied this review. A half dozen people bought the songs; then they were forgotten. It was no use to hope. The trouble was, he needed bread, just bread.
I am only a poor musician myself. But otherwise I am at your service. I hope you sleep well to-night—and get the hullaballoo out of your music just as soon as you can.” He tittered, and then scampered away. Daniel looked at him with a feeling of astonishment. Wurzelmann laughed, and said he had never seen such a queer codger in all his life.
“All right, Judas so far as I am concerned,” said Wurzelmann. “I was not born to be nailed to the cross; I am much more for the feasts with the Pharisees.” He had got a position as critic on the Phœnix, one of the best known musical magazines. Daniel found the members of the orchestra only too glad to take the excursion over to Herr von Erfft’s.
He promised to publish “Vineta” and also the work Daniel had finished in the meantime, entitled “Nuremberg Serenade.” He also seemed inclined to consider favourably Daniel’s appointment in his newly founded opera company. Among those present at the dinner were Professors Herold and Wackerbarth, Wurzelmann, a few of the long-haired and a few of the lost-in-dreams.
Everything she came in contact with she either assimilated or shook off: she dragged nothing along in the form of surface impedimenta; it became a part of her being, or she threw it to one side. Daniel had not called for a long while. He was busy with the rehearsals which Wurzelmann was conducting. Professor Döderlein was not to take charge of the orchestra until it had been thoroughly drilled.
The programme was to consist of Daniel’s works and the “Leonore Overture.” Wurzelmann referred to the Beethoven number as “a good third horse in the team.” Daniel also had a lot of business to transact with the impresario Dörmaul: the company was to go on the road in March, and many things had to be attended to. The contract he signed was for three years at a salary of six hundred marks a year.
He embraced old Herold, shook hands with Andreas Döderlein, and tried to waltz with Wurzelmann. He was not drunk; he was merely happy. Then it became too close for him in the room. He took his hat, put on his overcoat, and hurried out. The air was warm, mild. A south wind was blowing. Heaven above, heaven below, the houses were standing on clouds. One breath made him thirsty for the next one.
Do you think that Wurzelmann and I are just alike when it comes to an evening’s amusement? Do you think the earth claims me as soon as I see a tear?” “Let him go,” whispered Benda to the girl, “he is right. Don’t bring an artificial light into this darkness; it serves his purpose; let him do with it as he pleases.” Eleanore looked at Benda with wide-opened eyes. “Darkness? What do you mean?
Wurzelmann, instead of helping, fanned the easily inflamed minds of the company into a fire of noise, malevolence, and hostility. They demanded that Daniel give them what was due them, besieged him in his hotel, and finally brought matters to such a pitch that the whole town was busied with their difficulties.
The impresario Dörmaul clapped his hands until the perspiration poured from his face. Wurzelmann was beside himself with enthusiasm. Old Herold smiled all over his face. The long-haired found it of course quite difficult to subdue their jealousy, but even they were not stingy with their recognition. But how did Herr Carovius feel? His spittle had a bitter taste, his body pained him.
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