My dear Minna,
Without exactly much material, I am writing you to-day again, instead of waiting for your news first, just to tell you how I'm getting on. My last letter to you was written under influence of the greatest exhaustion, — no doubt you'll have remarked that in its slipshod style, — but since last Monday I'm in another lodging, about which I wrote you before, and gradually am getting better; my room looks on to a Cité (large courtyard), and at least has the advantage of there being no piano and no lady singer near. It passes my comprehension, how dear everything has become here; or was it so before as well, only we didn't know it? I am paying 65 fr., and need say no more than that I envy Brix, in recollection, the room he had from us for 40, which was far more comfortable, and better in every way, than my present one at 25 fr. dearer. — In order to recover, I spend nearly all the day indoors; you may imagine what that costs for wood, with this firing tariff! Moreover, I have already been obliged to rig myself out a little: 1., hat; 2., umbrella (indispensable!); 3., black tie; 4., gloves; 5., 2 pairs of under-garments; 6., a purse, — finally 7., a ready-made paletot. In addition, I have been to Loizeau, whom I unfortunately still owe something (as you know), and he complained of having had great losses and being much thrown back. I got measured for a coat, a pair of outdoor trousers, a black velvet and an ordinary cloth waistcoat. I must try and pay Loizeau off during my present stay in Paris; but what I have just ordered was absolutely necessary: I couldn't go about in my old things any longer — particularly here.
So far, dear Minna, I have been able to attend to almost nothing but my health; it needed the more consideration, as I had severely overtaxed my strength afresh through my journey and first few days in Paris. I am growing more and more convinced that my complaint is nothing but a great overstrain, and subsequent running down, of my nerves: once I have strongly excited myself, the seemingly rheumatic pains set in forthwith, — on the contrary, when I have thoroughly rested, they also cease at once. Unfortunately it wasn't till the night before last that I had a proper sleep again, for even after shifting to this lodging I had disturbing adventures to undergo at first. After retiring to bed the first night, past 11 o'clock I suddenly hear the papers being read close beside me as distinctly as if in my room: it continues till 1, with goodbye to my longed sleep for the night. After my complaining about it next morning, the next night my neighbour — who reads to himself all alone — began mumbling quite low, as if trying to check himself; but it went on more and more crescendo, till at last it reached the volume of the night before. The same thing the third night, when my patience gave way; in a fury I shouted at my neighbour, Had he gone out of his mind, with his ridiculous habit? I should leave on his account next morning! He held his tongue — and the fourth night I heard nothing more of him, and consequently for the first time got a quiet sleep. You see, good Wife, how things are faring with your poor sick husband in Paris! — I have been with Kietz and Anders several times, and have already made my promenade across the Seine three times to dine (i.e. evenings) at Truffaut's — where Anders has fed for 20 years. In fact I shall do it as often as possible, for cheapness' sake, as in my quarter I can't get dinner under 2 fr., whilst a demi-tasse after costs another 10 sous each time. I have my morning coffee in the house: I always keep back half the flûte for second breakfast, and have laid in some cheese and sausage, also a few bottles of wine, not to be compelled to go out for it.
Herr Vieweg also has given me a joy: he told me quite naively I still owed him some 30 fr., and kept snorting around it so long, that I gave him the cash in disgust. Franck is behaving very well and kindly to me; I like looking him up every day at his bookshop, and as I always light on Vieweg there, it was very awkward for me not to be able to polish him off handsomely.
Ah, to see these people and their traffic here, is something dreadful! Heartlessness and the most unblushing egoism, without the smallest disguise, encounter one at every step. — Yesterday I was at the Garcia's — I do not think much of her, either. —
My overtures have been in practice for some time, and are already announced; the concerts are said to be having a great success, and not a ticket is left. I'm expecting Belloni within the next few days; I hope to be quite well by then; also I think of resuming work on Monday.
I sent your letter off from here the 4th all right. I have nothing more to tell you of myself to-day, but am firmly reckoning on speedy news from you, good Minna, and hope with all my heart that you've been feeling better than myself. I don't want to appear sentimental, yet may tell you this: When I pack my traps again, to return to yourself, to my friends and our little pets in cosy Zurich — were I ever so ill, I shall recover my health like a shot. I hope the Holy Alliance won't oust us from Zurich; don't let people make you afraid, and simply ask Sulzer. Hearty remembrances to our dear friends; Sulzer and Baumgartner's farewell at the station did me a power of good. They shall have letters from me soon. —
Now write me, my Minel, poor sorely-tried wife with your excellent housekeeping! Let me know how you are and you feel. Never mind about Nette, and give her my love. How's Peps? What's Papo learning? I must hear of all that, for those are things of importance — as you quite understand. I shall write again soon. Farewell, my good old woman; think kindly of me, and keep a loving corner for
Thy Richard.
(Address: Monsieur Wagner, 59, rue de Provence, à Paris.)
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 30