Kindest thanks for your letter, good Minna. — Ah God, one's getting old, you see, and the "certain years" assert their rights; how hard it is to say what's happening in one then! Lucky the man who at that age need cherish no wish for himself, but solely for his progeny. Under the ill conditions of my life, I'm striving all I can to secure at least tranquillity for work, — yet nothing will rightly speed with me. To be dead, would please me well enough; but to be alive and never in sound health, is not agreeable. Scarcely had I got a little under way at last, than I was overtaken by all sorts of threatening symptoms, so that I have the doctor in the house again. Good God, this constant agitation! The bowels are in a miserable state with it all; but it had also invaded the chest with quite novel oppressions, and the thumping of the heart became so painful and sleep-disturbing that at last I really had to seek advice. The doctor finds nothing amiss with the heart, — they never do: but your humble servant has the torture (you can sing a song of that yourself!). Now I drink bitter-water of a morning, and walk it off. My humour has been much upset by it, and an overpowering melancholy seems to have been trying to master me. Coarse as you think me, I'm an extremely delicate plant as a fact; at least it's astonishing the uncommon influence the slightest change of weather, for instance, exerts on me. — However, I must grin and bear it! —
I am entirely without news from Carlsruhe once more; will the Lohengrin performance take place before the holidays, or not? I know not, and don't much care to ask: it would look as if I set such store by it. That was to have occurred in the second half of May, during Schnorr's starring. If it were still to come off, it would disappoint me as regards my birthday, which I meant to keep in Dresden this time. If I'm prevented by Carlsruhe from coming to Dresden about that time, it shall certainly be done before; so prepare your mind for it, and try to lodge me somewhere near you.
Your getting on with the Brockhaus's, and your seeing so much of each other, is pleasanter news to me than perhaps you think. There are reasons for that: I don't make much account of anything in the world now, but — peace I wish to have around me, and strained relations simply drive me off. I'm fond of solitude, but merely as a second-best: if no great claims are made on me, I'm very partial to fairly sociable company. In the end, too, one much misses a family: a little young folk belonging to one, and by whom one gets a trifle petted, is not a thing to be at all despised; if one looks too strictly into character, one ends by finding ground for reservation everywhere. — I have been unable to write to the girls; tell them I'm soon coming to Dresden myself for a day or two. And give my love to Fritz and Luise.
We'll have a talk about the dwelling on the spot. However my outward circumstances may shape, really we can only set up very modest house in Dresden: if I obtain a pension from outside, it will at any rate involve a few outer obligations, so that I am unlikely to be able to be in Dresden continuously; but the most annoying, as you'll understand, is the grudging surveillance by people there to whom I still owe money from before. Nevertheless we can run to 250 thlr for certain; therefore if we soon take a great fancy to one of those dwellings you now have in mind, I don't see why we shouldn't rent it even from July. If the amnesty had only come just 6 to 8 weeks earlier, I undoubtedly should not have set up here first: isn't this eternal contrariness sufficient to put one out of humour? But enough of that! —
From Vienna I have heard sheer nothing; but if they are expecting me there in September for Tristan, it is no more than in strict accordance with the arrangement under which I left Vienna last. Consequently it would delight me if the management itself had adhered to the bargain without my further importuning; for — I have sworn it to myself — I'll never ask a management again, nor yet a singer, for anything whatever! Amen!! —
I forgot to tell you of G. S.'s opera. I went to it; he gave it for his Benefit. It is the wretchedest and commonest shoddy I've come across as yet; he seems an adept, however, at getting himself puffed in the papers. Child, in the cold light of day there isn't much to be said for the good man: the Frankforters knew pretty well why they got rid of him; he isn't fit for any decent theatre, and doesn't know how to shew respect on any side. His taking up my operas in his Frankfort period was only since Schindelmeisser (an odd, but not ungifted fellow) had anticipated him with great success at Wiesbaden. — But enough of that too! —
In the Theaterchronik I've been shewn a poem on myself which was recited at a party in the Hotel de Saxe (I fancy). It was very pretty, and pleased me much. — Good goodness! an unknown "Biebricher" also sent me a magnificent Easter-egg yesterday with Tannh. and Lohengrin upon it. I'll bring it with me. — Otherwise I don't see a soul except Weissheimer, who comes out to me as often as he can. Cornelius wanted to come too. The Bülows, who intend staying on the Rhine 2 months this summer (he often gives concerts at Wiesbaden), have enquired whether it would disturb me if they sought quarters at Biebrich for that length of time; to which I naturally had no objection. —
Speaking strictly, I've done nothing of my new opera yet, except — the overture; but that has turned out very well, and probably will cut out all my other overtures. God only grant good health and some diminution of worries! — So, till further orders — perhaps by mouth! —
Best love.
Thy Rich.
I am still very pleased with the domestic: she keeps everything neat, and I don't hear her. —
Source: Richard to Minna Wagner: Letters to His First Wife, trans. William Ashton Ellis, Vol. 2 (Charles Scribner's Sons, 1909), No. 239