Ah, You Dear, Good, Old Fischer!
I have had "roses" on my face again; but still my humour will not turn very rosy. During such an illness letter-stuff always accumulates, and now to pay off my debts I must manage as sparingly as possible, so as not to impoverish my treasury of writing-inclination too markedly to the advantage of one creditor. I thank you very much for thinking of me immediately on the news of X.'s death; but what can I do from here in this case? I should much like to know what has taken place, and with what result. I fear, however, that I can only consider that that copyright business has again taken an ominous turn, in direct consequence of X.'s death!! Ah! how pleasant all that is!! At last one makes a success with an opera to which so much has been sacrificed, and then —!! It's a real joy!
Also your news about Lohengrin at Bremen surprised me very much, since the management there has not yet troubled itself about me the least bit in the world: it gave the opera without saying a word to me on the subject. I at once wrote, complained of such unloyal behaviour, and demanded an immediate honorarium. A fortnight has passed, and still I have no answer. That is really the first time a theatre has played me such a trick! Tichatschek might do something in the matter. Or shall I make a public scandal? That again is not very pleasant. That T. has at last sung the Lohengrin gave me great joy! I certainly was not mistaken when, in writing that part, I foresaw that it would be one of his best! Only, what a pity that I could not give a performance of the opera with him, and, instead, must leave it to bunglers to create the part. I willingly believe that even now Tichatschek is the best in it, and again, willingly would I be present when he sings it. If he had only employed his splendid powers somewhere else! I would rather it had been Hamburg or Breslau. Perhaps that will still be possible for him! Best greetings to him from me, and tell him that in spirit here I stood upon my head, entirely as he deserved!
That I do not even manage to write to my good old Heinemann is indeed dreadful: Heaven knows! I would like to write many sheetsful of good sense to him, and that's just what makes it so difficult, that I almost always can't help preferring to settle the matter with a right honourable and cordial greeting.
For a long time I have been constantly dreaming that I was back in Dresden, but secretly hidden in your house; and just as secretly you brought me into the theatre, and there I heard one of my operas, but all wrong and out of tune, so that I became wild and wanted to shout out loud, from which you, in great alarm, were trying to stop me. Certainly, if ever I were permitted to return to Germany, and could so far conquer my repugnance as to call at Dresden, it would for sure be only secretly, and for the purpose of surprising you all one evening, and playing the fool with you. Mamma Heine would have to get ready the pickled herring, as on the Rienzi evening. Then indeed would we see who had altered!! A thousand hearty greetings for to-day!
At last the Walküre is finished: it has turned out remarkably beautiful: I lately had a performance of the First Act in my own house. I sang the Siegmund and Hunding, and Frau Heim, an excellent amateur, the Sieglinde: a friend accompanied.
Now, I shall soon set to work at Junge Siegfried. In 1857 I shall perform the whole thing here: seats are reserved for you. Get me a good tenor! And till then hold me always in kind remembrance, and be thanked a thousand times for your faithful friendship, which always gives me the highest comfort. Live well and soundly.
Your
R. W.
Source: Richard Wagner's Letters to His Dresden Friends, Theodor Uhlig, Wilhelm Fischer, and Ferdinand Heine, trans. J. S. Shedlock (Scribner & Welford, 1890), No. 140