I must be at the spring in half an hour; but since you are such a good woman, I have risen thus early, washed, gargled and hair-dressed already, to present myself to you as charmingly as possible while you doubtless are lapped in soft slumber. For this letter will go off within an hour. —
First of all — you everlastingly mistrustful spouse! — I must dissipate a few misunderstandings.
1. The landlord of my hotel is named "Biedermann" — consequently I am both lodging at the "Hotel Faller," and at "Biedermann's."
2. The reason I'm so exact or anxious about the expected money-letters — as I wrote you before from Chur — is that with every remittance of money I also expect a letter, which I generally have to answer at once, or on account of which I must send Fischer an order forthwith. Understand? I'm a "miser"? — O you perverse piece of goods! —
3. I wished you improvement in letter-writing: by which — after the whole sense of my lines — I meant that you should write, in general, sooner and more punctually. How could I be finding fault with your style, when you had not yet written me at all?
From the above — and those are merely trifles — you see how odd a look your vaunted love must wear. You naughty wife haven't the very smallest scrap of trust, but behind each step, each word, you spy out something which doesn't exist at all, and consequently keep imbuing me with the wish that dear God may mend you! What you wrote me about Herwegh, too, all reeks of reproof and distrust, — for which reason also, I shall leave that stuff entirely unanswered: the only way! You foolish women, can't you comprehend, then, that your greatest pride consists in this: that your husbands, out of fullest unrestraint and freedom, always return to your side in the end? Ah, if you only knew the meaning of true fidelity in love, i.e. duration! —
But we'll not philosophise so early in the morning, and to myself the occasion really seems too trifling for such earnest: regarded closely, it all was surely nothing on your side but chaff. —
Very good: you will have received another letter from me since; to that I still await an answer, particularly as to your still caring to come and fetch me? In that letter of mine, to be sure, you will have missed all talk of "huge affection" or "the loveliest flower"; but on the other hand you no doubt will have recognised that the wish to have you with me here breathes more true desire and heartfelt love than any mere rhetorical assurance, for which, like every written phrase, I once for all no longer care: — I prefer to do, to deal! — Halt! it is getting too late now, and my half an hour is nearly up. So, merely a few memoranda. — But dear child, if you require the money, just send the Wiesbaden treasure-slip to Hug's at once, and get it cashed; what the deuce makes you imagine you must pickle money for me when you're needing it yourself? No, please don't fleer: more money is sure to come in soon; but for the present you'll manage with that. — Is Mathilde going to Baden too? Give her my kindest regards; her faithful staunch attachment rejoices me. As I presume you have somewhat postponed your starting now, I address this letter still to Zurich: in any event it will reach you. — The day before yesterday we walked a distance of 4 miles on one of the Rosatsch glaciers: terrible scrambling over crevasses! Here and there Herwegh often declared he couldn't get across, and I had to return each time and shew him how. (Whatever you do, don't tell his wife!) It was a very fatiguing excursion: 11 hours of constant scrambling and clambering; but I have never experienced anything so grand, never before had I been in the very heart of the sublimest World of Ice! —
I thank you heartily for the vegetables, especially the parsnips, my favourite dish; it was very nice of you. Unfortunately I cannot eat the biscuits, they have such a horrid taste of rank butter as I never had known in a biscuit before: I must leave them alone. Of course you couldn't help it. —
Wesendonck has written me: he starts for America on the 27th. His wife is expecting a letter from you. — A thousand remembrances to Pepsel, the good, altogether good beast! Na, what is that beside the out-and-out good Wife?! Words utterly fail me!!! —
Farewell, dear Minna; the goblet tinks, I must be off. Let's hope it will taste all right; the first I shall drink to your health! Farewell, and let me hear again soon.
Thy Richard.
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 50