For my brothers Carl and ... .... (Johann) van Beethoven:
Oh, I judge men malevolent, stubborn or misanthropic! How wrong you are! From my childhood, my heart and my mind were inclined towards the tender feeling of goodness, even I was willing to make generous actions, but, reflecting that six years ago in which I have been attacked by an incurable condition, aggravated by senseless physicians, cheated year after year in hopes of a recovery, and finally forced to face the future with a chronic (whose cure will take years, or it may be impossible), born with a fiery temperament and live up to and including susceptible to distractions of society, I was compelled early to isolate myself, to live alone, when at some point I tried to forget it, oh, how hard I was forced to acknowledge the reality of my then doubly deafness, and even then, it was impossible for me to say to men: speak it loud, scream, because I am deaf. Ah! How was it possible for me to admit this weakness in a way that I should be more perfect than others, a sense that once possessed in highest perfection, a perfection such as few in my profession enjoy or have enjoyed. Oh, I can not, then forgive me when you see me retire when I mingle with you with pleasure, my misfortune is doubly painful because it necessarily causes it to be misunderstood, for me there can be no joy in the company human, nor the refined dialogue, mutual confidence and only I can blend in with society a little when the greatest needs require me to do so. I live as an exile, if I come to people a hot terror seizes me, a fear that I can be in danger that my condition is discovered - it has been over the past year I spent in the field, sorted by my clever doctor to rest my ear as much as possible, in this conjunction of my natural disposition, but sometimes broke the rule, moved by my gut feeling sociable, but what a humiliation when one stood beside me and heard a flute distance, and I was not listening nothing, or someone heard a shepherd singing and again I heard nothing, such incidents brought me to the brink of despair, a little more and have put an end to my life - I held only art-ah, it seemed impossible to leave the world to have produced all that I felt I was called to produce, and then endured this wretched existence - truly wretched-body nature hypersensitive to a sudden change can throw from best to worst. Patience. It is said that now I choose it to guide me, so I did, I hope my determination will remain firm to endure until the inexorable Fates to cut the thread they please, such time will improve, maybe not, I'm ready . And forced my 28 years to become a philosopher, oh, it's not easy, and less easy for the artist than for others. Divine Being, you who you look deep within my soul, you know, you know that love of neighbor and desire to do good and dwell there. Oh, man, when one day read these words, remember that you have wronged me, and let him comfort the unfortunate to discover that there was someone like him, that despite all obstacles of nature, also did everything was in his hands to be accepted into the upper category of worthy artists and men.
You, my brothers Carl and ... ... as soon when I'm dead, if Dr. Schmidt is still alive, ask in my name to describe my condition and keep this document in the history of my disease so that as far as possible , at least the world be reconciled with me after my death. At the same time declared the two as heirs of my small fortune (if it can be called that way), just divide it, embrace each other and help each other, whatever evil you have done me, you know, has long since been forgotten. To you brother Carl I give special thanks for the affection you have shown me lately. It is my wish that your lives better and freer concern than mine, recommend virtue to your children, this alone can give happiness, not money, I speak from experience, it was only virtue that sustained me in pain, and my art it just the fact I have not my life over suicide. Goodbye, and quiéranse each other. I thank all my friends, particularly Prince Lichnowsky and Professor Schmidt. I hope that the instruments of Prince L, are kept by one of you, but which is not a fight of this, if they can serve you better order, sell them, I'll be happy if I can help serosa from the grave. With joy I come to death. If it arrives before you have the opportunity to show all my artistic abilities, will come too early, despite my hard fate and probably wish that would come later, but still be satisfied, I then released my endless suffering? Come when you come, you will receive value. Goodbye and do not forget me completely when I'm dead, I deserve this of you, though I thought life so many times about how to make them happy, sedlo.
Heiglnstadt October 6, 1802 Ludwig van Beethoven
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