[...] The Wesendoncks, it may be added, are still labouring under their inability to move in; things are not going at all smoothly for them. That my relationship with this couple is a fairly artificial one and not at all easy for me is something I have hinted at sufficiently often in the past: it may continue to be bearable as long as I can preserve my independence from its business aspect, a task which I shall henceforth regard as my strictest duty. But given the extraordinary loneliness of my life here, (for Semper, Herwegh etc. live only for their own troubles and cares), I suppose I must put up with whatever burdens I choose to drag around with me, since at least they remind me of the fact that I am still alive. Enough of this; and now to something rather different. - I shall not have any more trouble with Härtels, since I have finally decided to abandon my obstinate attempts to complete my Nibelungs. I have led my young Siegfried into the beautiful forest solitude; there I have left him beneath a linden tree and have said farewell to him with tears of heartfelt sorrow: - he is better there than anywhere else. - If I am ever to take up this work again, it must either be made easier for me, or else I myself must in the meantime make it possible to bestow this work on the world in the fullest sense of the word. Indeed, it finally needed no more than this altercation with Härtels - my first contact with a world which is supposed to enable me to realize my plan - , in order to bring me to my senses and make me see the totally chimerical nature of this undertaking. You are the only person (of any importance) who has shared my belief in this possibility, but perhaps you did so only because you had not a sufficiently clear idea of the difficulties involved: but Härtels, who would have been expected to pay out real money without delay, looked at the matter more closely, and are doubtless quite right to regard any future performance of this work as impossible, especially if - without their help - the author is not even going to get as far as completing it.
As for my present plans, there was a time when even without the prospect of ever living to see the work performed, I was able to conceive and begin it, and to complete one half of it. Even as recently as last winter the assurance with which you left me and your confidence that I would soon be released from my mute and silent refuge gave me the courage to continue - courage which by then had become very necessary; I needed encouragement because, having lived for eight years without the inducement that a good performance of a single one of my works would have given me, my situation had finally become unbearable. Our attempts to make music at the piano further contributed to an increasing awareness on my part that my music is simply a pitiful way of getting by; indeed, I felt that there were many things I myself could make clear to you only through a satisfactory performance. - Since this fateful silence from Weimar means that my last hope has now been completely dashed, all I can now feel is an uncontrollable sense of bitterness, such that I no longer find it possible to believe in any future prospects. As the rarest of friends, you do what you can to set me on my feet again in whatever ways you are able, and to keep me cheerful and eager for work: but I know that you are bound to regard this merely as an end in itself. And so - I am now resolved upon a course of self-help. - I have conceived a plan to complete Tristan and Isolde without further delay; its modest dimensions will facilitate a performance of it, and I shall produce it in Strasbourg a year from today with Niemann and Meyer. There is an attractive theatre there, the orchestra and the rest of the (relatively unimportant) cast will be provided by one of the neighbouring German Court theatres (Karlsruhe perhaps), and so I think that, with the help of God and without the Grand Duke of Weimar, I may again present something of mine, in my own way and on my own terms, that will help to provide me with some feeling of freshness and restore my self-awareness. At the same time this undertaking offers me the only possible chance I have of keeping my head above water; only a somewhat frivolous act on my part - the sale of my Tannhäuser to the Josephstadt Theatre in Vienna - has enabled me to maintain a necessary state of balance, but my position will shortly be under threat again, or at least is by no means secure, so that - in this respect too - I have been obliged to think of ways of freeing myself from my worries. For - I think I may safely assume that a thoroughly practicable work such as Tristan will be will soon bring in decent revenues and keep me afloat for a while. In addition, I am planning to do something rather curious with it. I am thinking of having this work translated into Italian and offering it to the theatre in Rio Janeiro - which by then will probably have presented Tannhäuser - where it will receive its first performance in Italian; but I shall dedicate it to the Emperor of Brazil, who will shortly be receiving copies of my last three operas, and I think that there should be enough pickings from all this to enable me to be left in peace for a while. Whether I shall then feel attracted by my Nibelungs again, I cannot tell: it will depend on moods over which I have no control. On this occasion I had to exercise considerable self-restraint; while feeling in the best possible mood I had to wrench Siegfried away from my heart and place him under lock and key as though I were burying him alive. I shall leave him there, and no one shall have a glimpse of him as long as he has to remain locked away like this. Well, perhaps the rest will do him good; I have no plans for waking him, and neither Härtels, nor your Grand Duke - nor even Councillor Müller - shall be allowed to waken him without my bon plaisir. - It has cost me a hard and bitter struggle to reach this point! - Let us now regard the matter as closed! -
[...]
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 201