Dearest Lady!
Wahn! Wahn! überall Wahn!
That's now my theme! — That you should imagine I didn't answer you because things were going well with me, is one of the most singular quid-pro-quo's that could arise. Your letters, even those to Penzing (near Vienna), while you were revelling in Italy, found me in a permanent state of dissolution and despair as to how to smooth this beast of a life enough to get at least for once a year of rest for working in. To have written you then, when I was daily on the leap from one obstruction to another, would have been sheer folly, believe me! Then I went to Munich: now that was fine, was it not? My child!! Have you the least idea of what I had to go through there at last? Or do you really think that my having good board and lodging, albeit I was torn and dragged through every puddle because of that unheard-of favour, made it well with me? God, I was ready at any moment to cast it all away again; the only thing to hold me back, was sincere affection for my young, mysterious and perhaps miraculous friend, for whom I have suffered more than for any human soul before. But how could I tell you that so lightly? I have saved him, and in him still hope to have preserved for the world one of my best works!
You heard of my leaving Munich, in December 1865. I went to Geneva, breathed again, cast a longing glance at the south of France or Italy, to find a haven where to work again at last. Well! so I thought of you, and also looked around for you; for, my resolution formed to work again, "well"-going glimmered up; and when it goes well with me, then I think of my friends — not the other way, when it goes badly. You foolish person! — How to discover your whereabouts? At last you had kept a long silence. Then one day I find a card left by Herzen, who had called on me with a young lady [his daughter]; on the back of the card the lady had written good wishes from you. I was told they would call again. Then I sought out Herzen himself, who was stopping a long way off from me: the message from you was a finger of Fate. I did not find him in, twice and three times over. He didn't let that move him to pay another call on me. That vexed me.
Furthermore, the Devil was playing his pranks again behind my back: I durst not go too far from Munich, if I would prevent the young King's abdication. At the beginning of April 1866, I took a lease of this country house near Lucerne, where I have settled down for 6 years' work. Horrible times had to be endured even last summer, but I got through with the music of the Meistersinger. Another work finished at last! To Munich I only pay visits. The Meistersinger is to come out at the beginning of next winter. To that performance you must come, do you hear? It is my masterwork; not one comes up to it.
Now you know all, however little I have written you. Your letters, especially from Rome, I have often read again. In everything you women are much better off; delight in everything, an environment, an impression, always comes easier to you. Only reflect that I have felt, and still feel in fact, a positive horror of having, or being forced, to take delight in such things. Whenever I tried it of yore, I straightway fell ill and wretched — especially was this the case with me in Italy. I never am well, saving when I have full rest for work. Everything outside but hinders, hinders, only hinders me. But — just that "rest" was very hard, again, to compass.
You sent me somebody to Munich? Eh, how precious quickly I had flown thence! Here I am, ever somewhat ailing, with a big and a little dog, a good young musician as secretary, in the wonderful world of mountains, and compose "Wahn! Wahn! Ueberall Wahn!" Now let me hear something of you, as I really find myself a little "well." From my heart
Your
Richard Wagner.
Source: Richard Wagner's Letters to Wesendonck et al., trans. and indexed by William Ashton Ellis (Grant Richards, 1899), No. 54