You may easily imagine, dearest Franz, how delighted I was by your letter. Sometimes I grow anxious about you when I do not see you or have proper news from you for such a long time; I always think then that you care for me no longer. I shall not write to you anything rational now, for your letter can be answered only by word of mouth. God knows, I castigate my flesh by this cure chiefly in order to be quite well when we meet at last. As regards my health, I could not have done better than place myself under the immediate guidance and supervision of an excellent French physician, Dr. Vaillant, who conducts a hydropathic establishment here. I conquered my first aversion to the course when I recognized the valour of this Parisian Vaillant. I go thoroughly to work in using this new and careful treatment, and feel sure of being completely cured of my ailment, which, after all, was caused by nervousness. But it is more than possible that I shall be detained by it till the end of August, and I should therefore prefer, after all, if you could come about the middle of September. This also seems to me more likely, because I cannot believe that you will give up Gran altogether. I expect then to see you crowned with glory on your return from the land of your fathers. Your Symphonic Poems are now quite familiar to me; they are the only music which occupies me at present, for during my cure I must not think of doing any work. I read one or other of the scores every day, just as I might read a poem, fluently and without stopping. I feel every time as if I had dived into a deep crystal flood, to be there quite by myself, leaving all the world behind me, and living for an hour my real life. Refreshed and strengthened, I rise again to long for your presence. Yes, friend, YOU CAN DO IT! Well, not much can be said about it; the noblest expressions might easily seem a little trivial in such a connection. Enough, you will soon be here, and bring me my Dante. This is a beautiful, glorious lookout; I thank you.
I sent you yesterday a parcel containing the original scores of Rhinegold and the Valkyrie. Their fate will probably be a peculiar one. Let me explain briefly: I shall perish, and shall be quite incapable of further work, unless I find a habitation such as I require, viz., a small house to myself and a garden, both removed from all noise, and especially from the damnable pianoforte noise, which I am doomed not to escape wherever I turn, not even here, and which has made me so nervous that even the very thought of it prevents me from thinking of work. Four years I tried in vain to realise this wish, which I can accomplish only by buying a piece of ground and building a house on it. Over this possibility I brooded like a madman, when it occurred to me not long ago to offer my Nibelungen to the Hartels, and to get the necessary money from them. They have expressed to me their willingness of doing something out of the way in order to gain possession of my work, and I have in consequence made the following demand: They are to purchase the two pieces which have already been finished, and are to expect Siegfried in the course of next year, and Siegfried's Death at the end of 1858, paying in each instance the honorarium on the delivery of the manuscript. They also bind themselves to publish the whole in 1859, the year of the performance. I have been led to this by sheer despair; the Hartels are to supply me with means for the purchase of a piece of ground according to my fancy. If we agree, which must be decided soon, I shall have to send them, in the first instance, my two scores, so as to place them in possession of the material for their future publication. But they will only keep them long enough to take a copy, and then return the originals to you. In any case, if I want the money, I must enable them to take actual possession. They must of course lend me the scores, in case they have not yet been copied, during your visit to me; that is understood. As you do not yet know the last act of the Valkyrie, I send you the score before taking further steps, so that you, and no one else, may be the first to whom I communicate it. If you have time, read the act quickly, and then keep the whole in readiness for sending it to the Hartels as soon as I ask you. About this whole matter, however, we must come to a better understanding when we meet.
During my cure here I have become terribly indifferent towards my work. Lord knows, if I am not much encouraged to finish it, I shall leave it alone. Why should a poor devil like me worry and plague himself with these terrible burdens if my contemporaries will not even grant me a place for doing my work? I have told the Hartels as much; if they will not help me to a house, detached and situated on an eminence, such as I want it, I shall leave the whole rubbish alone. Well, if you only will come, I shall not trouble Saxony and the rest of Germany for some time. Bring the Princess with you, do you hear? And the Child, too, must come. If you put me in a good temper I shall perhaps lay my Victors before you, although this will be very difficult. For although I have carried the idea about with me for a long time, the material for its embodiment has only just been shown to me as in a flash of lightning. To me it is most clear and definite, but not as yet fit for communication. Moreover, you must first have digested my Tristan, especially the third act, with the black flag and the white. After that you will understand the Victors better. But I am saying vague things. Come and bring me the divine comedy, and we shall see then how we can come to an understanding about the divine tragedy.
Richard Wagner
Source: Project Gutenberg eBook #4234, Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt — Volume 2, No. 219