Dear Natalie,
This time I am sending the money for Minna to you, with the request that you forward it to her at once.
I was already intending to do so: a letter from Minna which I received today confirms me in this decision.
She writes in a vein which, by her own lights, is fair and just, nay, almost charitable and friendly. And ultimately she is quite right to see things as she does: it is simply that I see them differently - and therein lies our misfortune.
Believe me, my dear Natalie, my heart bleeds and has done so for years: for it is now entirely clear to me that I cannot live with Minna any longer. It is not a question of apportioning blame, any more than it is a question of reproaching her: but experience has shown me that it would be the greatest possible misfortune for us to live together again. Although this was bound to become clear to me some time ago, I kept on vacillating over how best to carry out this bitter resolve. It was usually consideration of her health which turned the scales, persuading me to avoid saying anything final and decisive. If I could only hope that in this way I might make up for all that has happened, I would gladly continue to pursue this course. However, I can see that in this way I am prolonging her torment and my own as well. In the end she will keep clinging to a hope which I cannot fulfil, and in that way is prevented from leading the kind of life which, in the circumstances, could alone help her to find peace. I used to think that it would be all right if I were to visit her now and then: but it is easy to think such thoughts, and I am now convinced that such an arrangement would be feasible only in the case of quite different, more easy-going natures. She has, quite naturally, developed a sense of mistrust and a nervous inhibitedness towards me which make the days we are together an hourly torment. In spite of the fact that I have the best of intentions and feel deeply and sincerely sorry for her, I am now so clearly conscious of this that I constantly shy away from the thought of visiting her. Of course, I do not hate Minna: I should like to be of as much benefit to her as I can; but the differences are too great, and the divisions caused by our unhappy experiences together are too obvious for any attempt to deceive ourselves otherwise ever to succeed.
And so I must now ask myself what purpose it could possibly serve to leave the poor woman in a state of uncertainty any longer, an uncertainty which is a torment both to her and to me. Not even our letters can be completely innocuous: there will always be something that contributes to our misunderstanding and provokes remarks which continue to unsettle us both. I am forced to conclude that it would be better to stop writing, too. When I say this, you may be certain that it has cost me a terrible effort of will, and that my heart suffers more from this apparent harshness than any of you can ever imagine. Better, though, to keep my weakness to myself: if I reveal it to Minna, it will only produce renewed confusion. My only consolation is that there is nobody who knows us both who is not of the opinion that it is better like this for us both.
Minna now writes to say that she wants to give up the large apartment. Of course she should do so, and I shall do what is necessary to give notice for the 1st of October. But she should not think of moving into a furnished apartment! If she cannot use certain of our things in a smaller apartment, she should give them away or sell them, but always keep what she can use. I also wonder whether it would not be better for her to move to Zwickau, where she would be nearer you: she could live there very pleasantly on the money which she will receive from me with scrupulous regularity, and she would then have her relatives with her. In Dresden her position towards me (I fully realize!) is bound to become uncomfortable. Really, she should begin an entirely new life! - But it does not behove me to offer her advice, least of all to prescribe what she should do: oh! I must leave it entirely to her how she manages her life in future. The only contribution I can make is to end the uncertainty which prevents her from achieving any peace of mind. - She is absolute owner and proprietress of all those things which she has with her at present: she may dispose of them as she pleases. But if she wishes to send me something, I would ask for the silver laurel wreath and beaker which were once given to me; perhaps she would also share with me the whole of the silver of which she already left me certain pieces in Biebrich. I would also ask her for the fire-screen, if I did not sincerely believe any emotional excitement to be harmful and pernicious at present: but the arrival of this screen would touch me deeply.
Natalie! I write these lines with tear-stained cheeks. Perhaps I should have waited; it is, after all, only right and proper that both of us should now show the greatest composure and calm. -
However, if I now express, simply in the form of an urgent request, the desire, or, rather, the imperative need to arrange my relations with Minna in such a way that she no longer entertains any more false expectations concerning me, I declare, conversely, that she shall always remain my wife. I shall never think of divorcing her. I shall remain alone, and no one shall take her place. -
But it is impossible for us to live together any more: it simply will not work. Anything must be easier to bear than the sad relationship into which we should inevitably lapse! Let Minna think well on what this declaration of mine means, and I hope she will find in it proof of my true and sincere respect for her. -
My lot is loneliness - : my life - work! -
There is nothing I wish to add to this. I know only too well that discussions of this kind between Minna and me are totally unproductive. There is no question here of right or wrong: the only person who would continue to be in the wrong would be he who thoughtlessly and superficially were to advise a renewed attempt at living together!
With a bleeding heart I ask you to remember me to Minna! May she be reconciled to what is inevitable! It may perhaps be harder for me than for her!
Best wishes to you, too, dear Natalie, as well as to good Troger and Charlotte!
Your Richard W.
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 288