My Dear Beloved Countess!
I see that my anxiety about you in connexion with your journey must have been reflected in your intermittent sufferings during your travels. But – you really seem to be able to achieve your object. Hence I console myself with this thought and am now trying to console you. We finite beings, who are the embodiment of an infinite spirit, are born to suffer both pain and joy; and one might almost say that the best of us obtain joy through suffering – Well, I hope soon to have news of you again. Your children must really be a great comfort to you. Their sincere affection and their endeavor to secure in every way the welfare of their dear mother must surely be an ample reward for her sufferings – Then there is the honourable Magister, her most loyal shield-bearer – then there are a whole collection of other rascals, including the periwigged violoncello, and sober justice in his high office – in truth, a retinue that many a king would long to possess. – No news from me – that is to say, nothing from nothing – May God grant you greater strength to enable you to reach your Temple of Isis, where the purified fire may swallow up all your troubles and you may awake like a new phoenix –
In haste your faithful friend
Beethoven