Dear Lady,
Your letter received to-day was doubly welcome, as it brought me not only the enclosure, but a renewal of your address. I wanted to write you yesterday, but could not find it.
Now, at last, for what I had to tell you first. I beg you to present my best respects to Madame S., and tell her how particularly grieved I am at not being able as yet to send her back the money so kindly advanced me, as not the smallest change has taken place in my situation. From no side have I had a tittle of relieving news. I therefore leave it to Madame S., as she unfortunately is so largely interested in my situation, to address her own inquiries to Paris. Only, I should prefer that under any circumstances the appearance should be maintained as if I had not been made acquainted with the proposal to recoup me for the loss entailed by my concerts. I could easily beg Madame S., whom I considered very rich and fully in the position to afford me the needful relief out of her own pocket — in view of her especial predisposition I very well might ask her for a loan, which I have every prospect of being able to repay in a few years' time. A collection with the object of making me a present of the forfeit sum, however, I could in nowise have invited, as I know how little genuine faith is reposed in a man who turns to others for pecuniary help, and how his situation, be it what it may, is measured from that instant by one standard. The extraordinary will ever remain extraordinary, and uncomprehended. Accordingly I implore Madame S. to preserve the look that without my knowing it she was acquainted by you during her stay in Paris with the losses I had confidentially imparted to you. By this means the delicacy of my sympathetic lady friend will fortunately not be wounded. [...]
I now perceive that I should have done wiser to leave my household affairs in a provisory state for awhile; all the more so, as my personal wish was not the determinant factor. My present concern is to see how I can mend the error. From time to time unusual windfalls, almost natural in my position toward the world, have come to rectify the faultiness of my arrangements. Such I have ever accepted on the principle that those who busy themselves for me, gain more thereby than I myself; as I seek rest and happiness no longer, but only breathing-space for new labours, from which I reap the least enjoyment. Just now it seems that things will not fit in so easily; everything, even the promised and wellnigh secured, leaves me waiting in vain. Were I to yield to my inner prompting, I should free myself entirely with a single step, for Possession has never had a trace of power over me. Should you ever hear that Fate has raised me above every other consideration in the disposition of my outward life, than that of my own fancy, you would at like time hear that I had voluntarily chosen total poverty and retreat. Be assured of that, best Friend. [...]
That you hope to come back to Paris next autumn, you will believe how glad I am to hear it! — If you still remain in chains, however, take comfort again and again from the question of the Princess Leonore: And who is happy? For my part I assure you that I merely look on at the world, to learn how it comports itself towards a man of my stamp, and how it understands to profit of him — whether it will accord him the space, determinable only by the laws of his own nature, for development of his activity; or how much it will haggle away therefrom. I often can smile at it all; tho' I cannot deny that, as a sentient being, I am involved enough in the game to feel pains of all kinds under the experiment. Thus much is certain: I have already created much more than were requisite, had I wanted to feel a little ease myself at times. But that's the way!
Farewell and accept my hearty thanks for your friendship, also for the Turkish tobacco, which affords me at any rate the prospect of periodic oriental ease.
Your
R. Wagner.
Source: Richard Wagner's Letters to Wesendonck et al., trans. and indexed by William Ashton Ellis (Grant Richards, 1899), No. 46