Esteemed Herr Heine!
There is nothing else for it — I must be as great a burden as possible to you! About a month ago I took again the liberty to write you, and to load you with various requests; and without waiting to see how you receive that letter, I feel constrained to take your forbearance once more by storm. Will you be able to forgive me? I seek and seek for any possible pretext that might give me even a shadow of right to lay such claim to you and to your kindness, as in a certain measure I feel compelled to do! I find nothing, unless perchance it be the right of old family friendship, which I here might seek to bring into force. You were the friend of my family, of my departed father. You are entwined in the earliest recollections of my youth, and friend Heine appears to me so intimate, so long familiar a name, that it seems to me at times as though I needed no far-fetched excuses to lay claim to a friendship on which — as I, alas! must tell myself in sober moments — I cannot have the slightest right to count by reason of my own deserts.
In such moments, however, my friend Kietz consoles me; for without ceasing he assures me that all considerations for and against go for nothing with you — that wherever your powers permit you to be useful you gladly offer your assistance, without any great questioning "for whom?" — and, further, that he himself has often written you about me, petitioning you on my behalf; so that I may well venture to throw myself directly on your kindness and good-nature, confident at the least of not meeting with a bad reception. Therefore, as I have often ventured much before, neither will I now lose courage, but act as though I were really turning to a Friend. I hope one day yet to acquire the right to call you by this name.
This, my dear Herr Heine, is what I so need at the present time in Dresden — a friend personally disinterested in my affair. In spite of my relations with Councillor W., which (thanks to the existence of the Abend-Zeitung!) are pretty frequent, I still lack news about the state of my Dresden project. Winkler's news, of course, is always of so official a character that the chief matter itself is only given me in a short and cursory way, while many incidental things, often of great importance, are scarcely ever mentioned. Thus, the last letter of W. certainly gives me the good piece of news that Herr v. Lüttichau has definitely consented to my opera being put on the stage after Reissiger's. That is all very good; but how many questions does not this answer suggest! For instance: does the general management propose to place my work upon the stage with the outlay indispensable to a brilliant effect? On this point W. writes me: "The general management will leave nothing undone to equip your opera in a suitable manner." You will understand how terribly terse this seems to me! I am not greatly surprised at receiving no letter from Reissiger since last March: he has worked for me, and that is the best and most honourable answer; besides, it would be foolish on my part to expect that Reissiger, now that his own opera must be fairly engrossing his attention, should be much occupied about me. But what alarms me is the absolute silence of our Devrient! I think I have already written a dozen letters to her: I am not exactly surprised at her sending me no single line in answer, because one knows how terrible a thing letter-writing is to many people. But that she has never even indirectly sent me a word, nor let me have a hint, makes me downright uneasy. Good heavens! So much depends upon her — it would really be a mere humanity on her part if she, perhaps through her lady's-maid, had sent me a message to this effect: "Make your mind easy! I am taking an interest in your affair!" Certainly everything which I have learnt here and there about her behaviour with regard to me gives me every reason to feel comfortable; for instance, she is said to have declared some while ago in Leipzig that she hoped my opera would be brought out in Dresden. This token would have fully quieted me, if it had only come directly to my ears or eyes: hearsay, however, is far too uncertain a thing.
A month ago I likewise wrote to her, and earnestly begged her to let me have only a line with the name of the lady singer whom she would like to be cast for the part of Irene, so that I might make a formal list to propose to the management. No answer! Oh, my best Herr Heine, if your kindness would only allow you a few words in which to make me acquainted with the intentions of the adored Devrient! Does she really wish to sing in my opera? That is the question.
Good heavens! only to know how all this stands! I have written to Herr Tichatschek, and commended myself to his amiability: shall I be able to count on this gentleman?
I have written to Herr Fischer; to-day I send off a second, more circumstantial, letter to him. Can I count upon his kindness, on his so exceptionally weighty help?
And lastly — is my opera being seriously thought of? Have the preparations, the costs of its equipment, been pondered over? I do not indeed yet know whether Reissiger's opera has already appeared; should this still not have happened, I see right well that, for the moment, there can be no material thought of preparing for my opera. Meanwhile, unless they look on Rienzi as an easy burden, they must already have pretty well made up their minds in advance as to how they intend to deal with it. And that's the very point I am so anxious to see cleared up. If they merely treat Rienzi as an opera about which one asks, a few days before the performance, "What shall we get put together for this?" I should consider it a grave misfortune. On the contrary, I have counted on the probability that the direction would regard an opera which is calculated throughout for the grandest and most sumptuous proportions as an appropriate opportunity to show off the new theatre in all its splendour. As you, dear Herr Heine, will take a principal part in the solution of this question, I herewith apply to the man best fitted to give me information on the point. I therefore pray you most earnestly for an answer.
Concerning the cast of the chief characters in the tragic pantomime in the second Act of my opera, I am writing too to-day to Herr Fischer: to correspond to my intention they must be represented by members of the comedy-troupe who are accustomed to play similar parts in spoken drama. It will be a troublesome matter to carry this through, and yet it must be done if the pantomime is to produce the desired imposing effect.
Enough! What should I not have to call to mind, and what to ask, were I to pour out all that I have at heart! If you are willing, dear Herr Heine, to put my thankfulness to the venture, you will have the infinite kindness to give me the longed-for answer to the questions I here ask, and to tell me whatever else you may consider of importance. If you would only put yourself a little in my situation, you could easily picture to yourself how greatly you would oblige me by satisfying my request. If your certainly overloaded occupations allow you before long to dispose of a free hour, I beseech you to devote that hour to me: right willingly shall I be ready to give you up whole days of my own life, if ever I could be persuaded that they would be of any value to you!
My humble regards to Mad. Devrient. I hesitate as to whether I should write to her again to-day. Good heavens! what could I write to her, except the same thing as ever — ever the same thing! Must I not be afraid of seriously wearying her?
Kietz is very soon coming to you. He is an excellent fellow, and very dear to me; he will certainly always get on well, for no one can help being kind to him.
By this letter I have indeed loaded myself with a fresh debt: so please have confidence in me and my integrity!
With the most heartfelt respect and devotion,
Your most thankful and obliged servant,
Richard Wagner.
P.S. If you should find time, or feel inclined, to honour me with a letter before the 25th of this month, it will reach me at No. 3, Avenue de Meudon, à Meudon, près Paris. After that time you must please be kind enough to address as follows: No. 14, Rue Jacob, à Paris.
Source: Richard Wagner's Letters to His Dresden Friends, Theodor Uhlig, Wilhelm Fischer, and Ferdinand Heine, trans. J. S. Shedlock (Scribner & Welford, 1890), No. 154