It made me swear a little the other night, my dear friend, when I was startled out of my sleep by a telegram at two in the morning. True, I stopped swearing as soon as I saw that the message came from you, but for a long time could not sleep a wink. The task you set me was difficult. A few days ago I cleared off our debts to Goldstein and asked him to send you the seventy reichstalers, which will, I hope, have been received yesterday (Friday). I am still obliged to go cautiously with our as yet unpatented court-Jew. It would have been folly in view of future transactions if I had immediately asked for a fresh loan of a hundred and fifty. Fortunately I had seventy-five lying by which I did not need for the moment, so I put it to Goldstein that he might advance a similar sum, and to this he agreed when he saw that I was doing all I could in the matter myself. He promised solemnly to wire the money at once to a banker in Venice, and it may be assumed that you are in receipt of it at the time of writing. All the same, will you let me know whether you have received this hundred and fifty? It is absolutely essential to my peace of mind to know it. Otherwise I shall have more sleepless nights, which I cannot stand just now with the strenuous life I lead. I am very curious to hear your special news just now, by the way. That is, if you will honour me with your confidence. I have been racking my brain over the important event.
I hope my letters about Lohengrin did not vex you. I thought I confined myself to the points that you would be interested to know. Today I have only one purely business communication to make: that Elsa and Lohengrin have been hoarse for eleven days and that there has been no performance since the second last Wednesday week. And they say Fräulein Wagner wants to get married this month, so it doesn’t look as if we should have many more performances. I hope they will put in Tuczek as Ortrud so that the loan may soon be paid off. Certain it is that the work itself cannot be injured by this old maid-of-all-work. Hülsen said the other day: “I never expected Lohengrin to have such an outrageous success.” Day after day he implores people through the newspaper columns not to worry him any more for tickets, tells them he cannot consider any further applications, as all the seats are taken for the next six performances. He is said not to know whether he is standing on his head or his heels, and no wonder. [...] Be assured, therefore, that the public is clamouring so for Lohengrin that it will have to be given, and the oftener the better. On the day of the next performance a pamphlet is to appear, called Lohengrin and the Berlin Critics, which will amuse all the world, yourself included. The author is a musical assessor, inspired by me. You must certainly have a copy. It will pour oil on the flames. Apropos, Formes has lighted for himself a flame of enthusiasm that continues to burn merrily. You should hear him abusing the critics. If you will allow me to put forward the plea again, I suggest that you should write him a line of acknowledgment on my representation. That stupid owl Kossak (whose notice I sent you) has offended him badly by calling him phlegmatic in his part. That he really doesn’t deserve. In any case Kossak’s outburst was personal. Confound the whole pack of them!
If I now make a really impudent request, don’t be more angry than a silent refusal on your part demands. I have just been invited to conduct a concert “of the future” in Prague at the end of this month, not this time of Liszt’s compositions, which, as is well known, are normally applauded there without opposition. The undertaking is bound up with an academic charity, just as last year when Liszt conducted. I naturally accepted at once. As I have also to organize the program, I should like to perform an unfamiliar work of yours. The Praguers deserve the distinction. Should you care to let me have the Prelude to Tristan for it? That is, when you have composed an ending to it, which with a little goodwill should not prove impossible. It would be a graceful act. You would be treating the Praguers and your much harassed admirers very nicely if you did. But if this surprise request strikes you as superior idiocy, ignore it and do not despise me for it.
I wrote a fairly comprehensive letter to Karl recently. Perhaps he will let you see the part which concerns me personally if it interests you. I ought really to have written to your wife about Lohengrin. But, by Jehovitsch, I had no time. Please excuse me to her—I might have supposed that Fräulein Frommann had done it for me.
I must go to the conservatorium now. Farewell, remember me, and write soon, soon, soon.
PS. Please send receipt for the third quarter of 1858 (seventy-one reichstalers, six silver groschens); it is urgent. Enclosed is a letter from Alwine Frommann.
Source: Letters of Hans von Bülow to Richard Wagner, Cosima Wagner, His Daughter Daniela, Luise von Bülow, Karl Klindworth, Carl Bechstein, ed. Richard Count Du Moulin Eckart, trans. Hannah Waller, ed. Scott Goddard (Alfred A. Knopf, 1931), No. 282