Dearest Minna,
Your last letter has just arrived. The draft for a letter from myself to the King gave me such great delight, that I really cannot help letting you know my amusement. That there should be any person in the world, and a high-placed one to boot, who believes me capable of writing a letter like that, made me laugh out loud. By — God! I might also ejaculate, How is it possible, and where is it possible, that anyone should think me so contemptible! Eh, that could only happen in my precious fatherland, of course, to which my heart is so breaking to get back, that I presently must pine away if I can't breathe the divine air again in which such wonder-plants thrive as the author of this high-placed letter! — But tell me, did you forward me the letter as a joke? You surely read it! Or are you so endresdened again, as to have become insensible to the ridiculous absurdity of such a style? Believe me, on the strength of this letter the King would have unconditionally rejected me; for he really would be too acute to take such a letter in earnest! —
Well, time will shew. Rest assured, my letter to the Minister of Justice was the best thing I could do. I believe I shall be pardoned off it, in fact, just because it's almost more than immaterial to me now. And if anything could have contributed to that feeling, it is the glimpse I've had again to-day into the miserableness of my beloved fellow-citizens. —
My yesterday's letter will have already told you more on that.
Ah, how it delights me, too, to have received an invitation to an Album with Reissiger's signature. Reconciliation! Sweet reconciliation! O how that does one good! With the best will in the world, however, I shouldn't know what I could honour the gentlemen with just now. I've nothing in the world for such a purpose, and have never written such a thing to order. The Weber monument is all very fine; when I'm allowed to come back, I'll conduct them a concert for it. If they need money before, X has such excellent pay and appointments, that it will be a flea-bite to him to make up the deficiency. God forgive me, I am a trifle bitter against the whole silly crew, and — would rather have nothing to do with them. Not one of them asked after me when there was need; but now that I've become a famous man, why, I'm Ew. Hochwohlgeboren again. — Leave me quite out of the trash; I've other and more serious cares than such tomfooleries, God knows! —
If they would only find me scores of Tannhäuser instead, or form a Wagner Committee to sell my 3 Meserian operas better, that I not only mightn't be reaping no reward for all my trouble, but mightn't still have debts for it as well! The idiots! —
But when are you going to Berlin to hear Lohengrin? I am always expecting to get a report from you.
Give Frau Karl Ritter back, please, the Rheingold score for me; everything has fallen through again for the present. Don't forget it. — A couple of packets of Paris snuff would also do no harm; you fancied you had sent me 3 pounds, but they were only 3 halves. Even if I go to Wille's the beginning of April, it will be difficult for me to procure any, as I shan't stir a foot toward Zurich, and shall also try to keep my presence at Mariafeld as secret there as possible. The invitation is very agreeable to me, not because, but although it is near to Zurich; for that, at any rate, would be the last place I should care to go to. The other amenities, however, incline me very much thereto. —
Last evening I played to Karl and Winterberger (my "two little boys, fair, fine, young and wise") the second act of Tristan, which sent both of them downright crazy. Winterberger swears by bell, book and candle that even I have never made a thing like that before; to-day, I hear, he's already playing bits of it from memory. — Yes, beautiful the act is. But there, you'll think I'm giving way to "vanity" again; which, as you believe you've been assured by me, I had given up entirely. I don't quite know on what it's founded, but thank you for your good opinion, and really shall strive not to be vain any more. Of course one is only vain of fancied merits; of one's real ones one is proud. But if it were not for my pride, how should I ever hold out in this heavenly world? Nevertheless, if you wish it, and if it serves to pacify you, I'll put off that as well. What more do you want? Anything, so only that you're fully pleased with me! — There: And yet he's a good husband! —
And now congratulate me on tomorrow, when I have to write to Frankfort, New York, London, Paris, Prague and Hanover; to Härtels, too, would be as well. — Next time I shall write you about a secretary. You must procure me such an individual in Dresden. But on that next time.
For to-day a thousand charming and delightful things from
Thy old Vagabond, on the brink of the grave through longing for the Waldschlösschen.
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 2 (Charles Scribner's Sons, 1909), No. 163