My noble, dear Friend!
I felt that I must tell you something good, something reassuring about myself, and yet I was first obliged to attain a certain amount of peace and quiet. I succeeded in arranging to see only a few intimate friends.—I have come to a rapid decision as to where to settle. Favourable answers from the Rhine are lacking and I have no real prospects there. On the other hand, the very thing I need was unexpectedly offered me in the neighbourhood of Vienna; an elderly Hungarian baron has offered me the very roomy upper story of his country-place at Penzing, with sole enjoyment of a fine, park-like garden with noble, tall old trees—all at a comparatively cheap rate for a long, perhaps a lifelong, let. The place is so arranged that I am entirely on my own and undisturbed. Impelled by the pressing need of speedily settling down somewhere, I have come to terms with the good old man, and am now busy about my removal. I hope to celebrate my birthday by beginning work again upon my Mastersingers!
I am sure I did right to wait till now before writing to you. Would it have been any comfort to you if my letter had merely been a cry to you to drink draughts of Lethe?—Yet, indeed, that is the most blessed drink I know. I find it easy to remember—but what use is that unless one can forget? Even the wild notion that I might be able to do so some day, did me good, but that you should have helped to make me forget so easily remains a blessed memory to me.—Oh, do you, too, bear me in kindly remembrance; remember that you once met one who could render you unforgotten, and forget that you have any need to remember my weaknesses.—
What wonderful evenings those were! [...]
Strangely enough, my thoughts of our dear Grand Duchess chiefly centre in a longing to possess some representation of her features. Seldom has a face made so pleasantly inspiriting and intimate an impression on me. The fact that at the same time I forget the Grand Duchess, ultimately matters not at all; but I have seldom met a more charming person of the female sex. Some rare kind of sun, benevolent and intellectual, seems to shine kindly upon me from that countenance. Whatever you do, do not forget the portrait for me!—In return (!) I am sending you copies of my Nibelung poem. They are being dispatched from Leipzig to your address. The parcel contains a copy de luxe, which I beg you, in my name, to lay most respectfully at the feet of our dear Grand Duchess. Of the two other copies, will you please keep one as my poor present to yourself, and will you be so good as to hand the other to our dear Fräulein von Stahl, whom I would so much have liked to steal out of your portrait-album, if the dainty little hat she wore had not suddenly set her at an immeasurable distance from me—about as far as Evchen from Hans Sachs! [...]
Source: Letters of Richard Wagner, Vol. 2, selected and ed. Wilhelm Altmann, trans. M. M. Bozman (J. M. Dent & Sons, 1927), No. 555