Dearest Friend,
I have a friend here, a most gifted young musician from whom I look for great things, and who is attached to me with a most touching devotion; he would feel happy for the rest of his life if he could secure a really fine poem for an opera. I have spoken to him about Wieland. Now, great politician, tell me, do you ever mean to compose opera again? Frankly, I don't believe it. You have not said anything to me about the scheme of the libretto. I doubt your doing it; probably you have some reason against it. Anyhow, it would amply satisfy my young friend if he could try his skill as a musician and develop his talents on a really poetical subject. So if you can swear to me with your hand on your heart that you do not believe you will ever use Wieland, I will frankly ask you to return the manuscript to me here. Assuming that this is so, I should be very glad. Therefore, think over it, ponder it well, and decide.
I have a feeling that you may have taken my last letter amiss. If so, you did wrong. It so happened that I was in an evil mood just then. Now things begin to look brighter. I am suffering from an old complaint, which uses up half my vital energy to no purpose.
But enough. My wife has obtained for me a complete pardon and permission to enter Saxony freely. But I shall remain here unmoved, where I am quite comfortably established, and where I have had — up till now — perfect peace for work. For the present this work rules my life despotically; in every respect, both from within and without, it is the one thing necessary for my self-preservation. I absolutely do not know where to lay hands on a Thaler, unless next winter I have something new to launch "for the theatre." Therefore, for the present, judge me according to this my necessity. Write to me, or, better still, come to the Rhine. This summer I shall not budge from this place. I must not.
Farewell. Best regards to all your people, and send me soon good accounts of yourself.
Affectionately yours,
R. Wagner.
Source: Richard Wagner's Letters to August Roeckel, trans. Eleanor C. Sellar, with an introductory essay by Houston Stewart Chamberlain (J. W. Arrowsmith, 1897), No. 9