My Most Honoured Sir and Friend,
You are silent, Herr Fischer is silent — and I almost fear that silence would reign everywhere, if I did not write notices in the Abend-Zeitung, and report French comedies! What you would have had to announce to me is, however, as I now perceive (thanks to the Abend-Zeitung and Councillor W.), so far from pleasant, that I can easily understand that you are silent out of consideration for me. I, fool that I am, was only anxious as to how Herr Fischer would receive my last letter with all its propositions, and about the trouble and care which I was occasioning to him and to my friends; but now I must learn that there is no present question of trouble and care, that not a breath of thought is given to my opera, and that for this I have to thank a whim of my high patroness Mad. Schröder-Devrient, who yet had only lately assured me, through you and through my Leipzig relatives, that she had at heart the ultimate performance of my opera, and that she would joyfully do for it all she could! I confess that this came upon me like a thunderbolt; I had accustomed myself to await the performance of Guitarrero, to watch the "star" of Pixis; but that it should suddenly occur to Devrient to wish to sing Armida, and forsooth before my opera — that, in truth, I had not expected. Herr W. merely writes me that it is decided, for the sake of Mad. Devrient, to put Armida on the stage early in February; but after that would come my Rienzi, so that it could still be given before Easter. Now, if everything goes off well and quickly, I might not have much to say against it; but if it should occur to any "star" or other to come across my path, or if one thing succeeds another with the customary slow progression, so that my opera does not come out before Easter, I see beforehand, with sad certainty, that the word will then be: "It is too late now! Next winter!" But if you or any other person exactly realized how my whole situation, all my plans, and all my resolutions were destroyed by such procrastination, some pity would be surely shown me.
Should it really come to this, that my opera must be laid aside for the whole winter, I should indeed be inconsolable; and he or she who might be to blame for this delay would have incurred a grave responsibility — perhaps for causing me untold sufferings. I cannot write to Mad. Devrient; for that I am much too excited, and I know too well that my letters make no impression upon her. But if I have not yet worn out your friendly feeling toward me, and if I can be assured that you rely upon my fullest gratitude, I earnestly beg of you to go to Mad. Devrient. Tell her of my astonishment at the news that it is she who hinders my opera from at length appearing; and that I am in the highest degree disturbed to learn that she by no means feels that pleasure in and sympathy for my work which so many flattering assurances had led me to believe. Give her an inkling of the misery she would prepare for me if (as I now have good reason to fear) a performance of Rienzi could not after all take place this year! But what am I saying? Though you may be the most approved friend of Mad. Devrient, even you will not have much influence over her. Therefore, I do not know at all what I should say, what I must do, or what advise! My one great hope I place in you, most valued friend! I have written to Herr v. Lüttichau, and herewith turn to Reissiger. If Devrient cannot give up her Armida, if she cannot accord me the sacrifice of a whim, then all my welfare rests only on the promptness with which this opera is brought out, and my own is taken up. I therefore fervently pray Reissiger to hurry: and you — I beseech you — do the same with Devrient. By punctuality and diligence everything can still be set right for me; for the chief thing is only that my opera should come out before Easter (that is to say, in the first half of March). I am truly quite exhausted! Alas! I meet with so little that is encouraging, that it would really be of untold import to me if at least in Dresden things should go according to my wish!
Only write to me — yes, at once — my honoured friend, and in your generosity do not again go so far as to frank your letter: by that you put me to cruel shame! On the contrary, if you found matter to devote a few lines to me every week, I would willingly pay for them their weight in gold, however poor I am.
A thousand cordial greetings to Herr Fischer! How has he received my letter and proposals? Please give him my warmest thanks!
And thanks, thanks to you! Remain kind and friendly to me, and God grant that I may some day give you gladness. From my whole heart
Your faithfully devoted
Richard Wagner.
14, Rue Jacob.
Kindly transmit enclosed note through the town-post.
Source: Richard Wagner's Letters to His Dresden Friends, Theodor Uhlig, Wilhelm Fischer, and Ferdinand Heine, trans. J. S. Shedlock (Scribner & Welford, 1890), No. 155