A Love Episode

But we have passed somewhat out of our chronological order. The
absence of love at home, as we all know, often encourages love
abroad. Haydn liked to have an occasional flirtation, as ardent
as might be within the bounds of decorum. Sometimes, indeed,
according to our insular ideas of such things, he exceeded the
bounds of decorum, as in the case of which we are now compelled
to speak. Among the musicians who had been engaged for the
Esterhazy service in 1779 were a couple named Polzelli--the
husband a violinist, the wife a second-rate vocalist. Luigia
Polzelli was a lively Italian girl of nineteen. She does not seem
to have been happy with Polzelli, and Haydn's pity was roused for
her, much as Shelley's pity was roused for "my unfortunate
friend," Harriet Westbrook. The pity, as often happens in such
cases, ultimately ripened into a violent passion.

We are not concerned to adopt an apologetic tone towards Haydn.
But Signora Polzelli was clearly an unscrupulous woman. She first
got her admirer into her power, and then used her position to dun
him for money. She had two sons, and the popular belief of the
time that Haydn was the father of the younger is perpetuated in
several of the biographies. Haydn had certainly a great regard
for the boy, made him a pupil of his own, and left him a small
sum in his first will, which, however, he revoked in the second.
Signora Polzelli's conduct was probably natural enough in the
circumstances, but it must have been rather embarrassing to
Haydn. After the death of her husband, she wheedled him into
signing a paper promising to marry her in the event of his
becoming a widower. This promise he subsequently repudiated, but