My best, dearest Mienel,
In spite of the greatest rush and uproar, in which I now find myself on account of tomorrow's festivity, I must bid you Good-day in all haste and tell you a scrap about myself. Only this moment has my room been vacated by all the military bandsmen I had to call to-gether; I'm curious about tomorrow's result, though it probably will be no very great shakes!
However, that's a minor matter. Besides wanting to thank you with all my heart for your dear good letter — which exactly crossed my own again — and to give you 43,000 kisses for it, I have particularly to tell you something which has been most agreeable to me. Yesterday the 5th, about 6 in the evening, I ask you, were you not thinking hard of Cassel? — For my part I could have thought of the Holländer production there only with the greatest uneasiness, if the Dettmer, who had just returned from Cassel, hadn't given me the most encouraging reports the day before. She had attended a stage-rehearsal, to wit, and told me that both the basses, Biberhofer as Dutchman and Foppel as Daland, had sung the first act in such style already that she would scarcely have recognised it for the same as here: Biberhofer has a glorious voice, she says, and is a very handsome man; Foppel quite excellent, sturdy and brisk. A young and very pretty singer, a Mlle Eder, uncommonly popular there, sang the Senta with the greatest zeal, and kept asking how the Devrient took things. The orchestra already went capitally, for Spohr was in love with this music and had taken the greatest of pains. Everyone shewed the greatest affection. — Now, isn't that highly encouraging? The Dettmer could never bring her story to an end. The whole place had been on tenterhooks for my arrival, as it had got noised about that I was coming myself. — The overture to Rienzi was played on the Brühl Terrace yesterday; I was among the crowd, and at the end of the overture, which was very well executed, a regular Hurrah went up: Bravo! Bravo! — One may hear it every day now, sometimes on the Terrace, sometimes in the Grosser Garten; — a very good joke to me!
Lord, if tomorrow's affair were only over; I've so much to compose still, and time is pressing fearfully! I must give up my contemplated spa-cure; if I cannot be very strict with it, and over-exert myself even a little, it may do me more harm than good. — I'll see if I can't get longer leave next month perhaps; then I'll stay with you at Teplitz, and we'll drink and promenade together. That would be fine, would it not?
Ach Jesus! I must go and dress now, — the Minister etc. expect me at the Zwinger, which already is enclosed to-day, to make an inspection of everything. —
Be content with this morsel to-day, little Wife of my heart! You shall shortly have news from me again; were I to keep waiting until I had plenty of time, it would come off very seldom! — My good child, entertain yourself well, build up your health, and stay fond of me. Adieu, you dear, good chick!
Thy Richard.
Best greetings to the Mama.
Pebs is not to bite Turk's legs.
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 5