Dearest Lady,
Before the middle of December — till when a letter might reach you yet in London — I certainly expected to have got so much the better of my temper, as to be able to write you properly. Now I am left with nothing but the anxiety lest it should be too late for news of mine to catch you; consequently I determine to let you have these lines at least, even though they constitute no letter. Yet, as much as possible in the briefest space!
I could not retain my Rhine work-room. The publisher left me in the lurch. A quarter of a year of total dislocation, useless efforts, untold want, set in. Final necessity of resuming outward undertakings, this time with the energy of sheer despair. On the 26th Dec. and 1st January two first grand concerts in Vienna, with fragments from Nibelungen and Meistersinger. Mid-January first performance of Tristan, ensuring star-week for Schnorrs (admirable). Then concerts again. Then perhaps the same concerts in Berlin. If not, perhaps to Petersburg for concerts; whither invited. (Simply to procure myself funds for a few years of rest!)
Gladly would I come to Italy, and perhaps shall come indeed. It's drumming in my head: after such pedlary, nothing but Italy can really reward and set me up again. Let me have news; I'm here till end of January.
At present wholly upset; unspeakable weariness of life, daily astonishment that I am still alive; dæmonic riddle there! Once more, maybe for sake of a few fair years in Italy!
Adieu, dearest friend; have no doubt of my sincerest sympathy! From my heart
Your
R. Wagner.
Source: Richard Wagner's Letters to Wesendonck et al., trans. and indexed by William Ashton Ellis (Grant Richards, 1899), No. 52