[...]’s visit to you is an anachronism: I have long since outlived him; for me he is no more than an occasional diversion. He is one of those whom I construed for my own ends in order to have a share in him: now that I have finally noticed what it is that I really have, I see that it is simply what he himself is, and not a whit more. A strange mixture of imagination & shallowness: utterly childish by nature, and belonging only to the present moment.
But he often amuses me with his good ideas [...]. As a person he is of no value to me whatsoever: I have finally had to admit as much, it has now become inevitable, especially now. Bülow has energy and perseverance - if only the poor devil enjoyed better health: but of all men he is the closest to me; and I know that he loves me in a loyal and genuine way. -
None of them has been of any use to me in my present situation, they have only made my sufferings worse.
My dearest child, I am too tired and sensitive to endure much more of the kind of distress that I have just been through. I asked him why, in the name of heaven, I should not entreat the King to allow me to write my works for him in Naples, where I could work just as well, if not better, than here, where envy and ignorance stir things up between us. I must live among people who interest me purely as a spectacle: those with whom I may have to deal I can no longer tolerate. Well, the King will not let me go, and so I am resigned to waiting a few more years before fulfilling my last remaining fond ambition - Italy. -
No one has proved of any lasting worth in the recent storm, except for me and the King. He is my only real friend, - and certainly the stars have destined him for me: he belongs to me, he cannot do otherwise, - and so - I belong to him. During this recent period, when his mother left no stone unturned in her efforts to tear him away from me, he did not bat an eye: he has survived every test with heavenly purity and loyalty. -
His letters during these weeks have been utterly divine! - My dearest, I must, because he - wills it so!
That’s how it is! —
Source: Selected Letters of Richard Wagner, trans. and ed. Stewart Spencer and Barry Millington (W. W. Norton & Company, 1988), No. 320