When in the course of the day you have transacted a neat little piece of business, after having rubbed your hands until you have almost deprived them of skin, you tune your violin, which you play like an angel, and you draw from it such delightful strains that your ledger and your cash-box fall to weeping with emotion.
I, too, am a musician, and my music is the fair sex.

But, alas! women never can be for me other than an adorable inutility, a part of the dream of my life.

Your dreams yield you a handsome percentage, as I have sorrowfully experienced; my dreams yield me nothing, and therefore it is that they are dear to me.
"I must prohibit--understand me clearly--your disposing of the trinket I left with you; we have the weakness, we Poles, of clinging to our family relics.

Set your mind at rest; before the end of the month I shall have returned to Vienna, and will honour the dear little note.

One day you will go down on your knees to beg of me to loan you a thousand florins, and I will astonish you with my ingratitude.