My dear Friend,
I ought to be back in "Inferno" now, with "Paradise" lying far behind me. But luckily I have only got so far, as yet, as to halt on the green sward by the forecourt of Hell (though not in company of sages!). The quarter of Paris in which I am staying is quite new to me as a place of abode; its respectable retiredness and pure air make me hope I shall hold out. I have a good prospect of getting a permanent dwelling, and as I really am resolved to make a longish stay in Paris under any circumstances, in order to prove once for all if it still can be of profit to me, to-day I have given orders for my furniture to be sent on. For that matter, it is quite indifferent to me where I live, if I can only feel tolerably at home within my four walls, to indulge my old relish for work again.
At present I am keeping strict incognito. Yesterday was my first attempt at calling on a few acquaintances, and I found them all still à la campagne, even our excellent Kietz. The Olliviers will be back in a few days. As I have been fully occupied till now by questions of abode, it is lucky that other relations engage me but little: and I believe I shall be able to dispense with them altogether. Consequently I can tell you nothing eventful about myself to-day. What I dream away to myself, however, would be no pleasure to you to hear. So I simply turn my glances back once more, to bid you good children another Adieu. The four bright days on your hospitable hill have had a fair significance for me: they live in me still: as pledges of a noble happiness, such as never can be given, but solely won. Let us hold it fast! — Many hearty greetings from
Your
R. W.
Source: Richard Wagner's Letters to Wesendonck et al., trans. and indexed by William Ashton Ellis (Grant Richards, 1899), No. 20