Dear Minna,
There it goes, raining the whole blessed Sunday again, and though I'm not particularly delighted with it here, it's well that we are not passing the rain-Sunday together at Brestenberg in mutually affixing our crotchets again. When the weather looked so promising yesterday I felt quite sorry I hadn't come, but indeed I also think the doctor is right that my visits excite you; at least I've never yet been able to bring home a true belief that I had soothed you, however willing my intention. That also will come in good time; but the greatest equability and true relaxation of spirit are doubtless the first essentials for your present cure. Indifferent society, and particularly reading, are very good then; I know it from experience, notwithstanding that my creative fancy always keeps me in a certain agitation — which is not unpleasant in itself, but gets made painful by clashing with other vibrations of life. Accept my heartiest congratulations on the "splendid night" of which you wrote in your last letter; it did me worlds of good myself, to receive such good tidings from you. Yes, simply rest! rest! both of us need it so badly. And that will come, too; only be kind and continue reporting your faintest improvements. — I have not been at my best myself this week past. I always feel worst of a morning; it is the old abdominal disturbance, connected with my blood trouble. I have tried making an alteration in my breakfast, but remarked no difference. It has its times and seasons, but I know only too well on the whole where its seat is: I live too much within myself, and have too little diversion without; which has been brought about, in turn, by my situation since ever so long. Naturally, even the love for my work suffers under it; good God! from whence can I expect at last to draw my inspiration? For two days I had made no headway with my work at all; yesterday morning I quite fell into despair, and — just to see human beings and let off a little steam — I promptly set out for the Willes', where I remained until late in the evening. After hardly speaking a word for a whole week, I properly unloaded myself there of all manner of artistic plans. To-day I've really felt a little better, and my work has gone well. Yes, the body is not accountable for everything; the soul needs its excursions also! —
This evening I'm invited to Sulzer's, where whist is to be played with Müller. I called upon Sulzer the other day, but couldn't do much with him; what interests him is most indifferent to myself, at bottom. He seems badly put out, moreover; the shooting business cropped up too. — But now for a principal item: the day before yesterday, at 3 in the afternoon, the Herwegh was at last delivered of a strapping boy; so you may congratulate her. — I have had one joy: young Hirzel came back from Leipzig and left me, as he didn't catch me, the wished for photograph of father Geyer's portrait; which really touched me very much. It has turned out quite passably; the face excellently. With it there also lay a pencil copy of the same picture, executed by Clemens Brockhaus, which certainly leaves much to desire. — That is all that has occurred to me, tho'; otherwise nothing but nonsense, stupid letters from musicians, and so on. Consequently I still am left in expectation of something decent turning up at last. —
If you write me of nights slept well through, it will be what I should like best; and if ever you feel bad and wretched — which I do not wish — just think of your husband, who often fares no better too. —
Friedrich forgot the biscuits, and has got the sack for it from me. His only passion is the garden, and the housekeeping book is always blossoming into a mass of plantings, to say nothing of 4½ fr. for bean-poles; I must really put some check on his enthusiasm. Otherwise he is quite a model of steadiness, so that I've really nothing to complain of. Lisette is a — cow! —
Now best greetings to your honoured company, and give the Herr Doctor my kindest thanks for your good nights; you require plenty more of them! —
I shall be with you in good time Saturday, and Müller too. The rascal hasn't even shewn his face here, though! Now farewell, greet the animals, and Fippsius in especial; hold me dear, and continue rejoicing
Thy Husband, who deserves it!
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 1 (H. Grevel & Co., 1909), No. 125