Vienna, Aug. 19, 61. Letter-writing is a funny thing, Lady-friend ! One sets apart an hour at last, and vows it to communication ; but what is such an hour, when plucked from out the midst of this eternal churn of life, impressions, moods ? For sure, a letter of the sort tells little, and we couldn't correspond at all with those we love, were that churning not to be assumed as known to them through sympathy. I had to agree with your Weimar letter at once, when I saw that your visit might have interfered with Vienna. Grant Heaven the sacrifice's recompense be not withheld us ! Amen ! At Weimar there naturally was no question of peace and enjoyment. From far and near they trooped around, to see me once again — or see me ; literally, I had to relate my whole life's history to some fresh person each half-hour. Despair at last inspired me with my old mad pranks, and everybody was delighted with my jocularity ; but I dared not turn serious, since I can no longer be so without almost dissolving into tears. Tis a long-standing fault of my temperament, and now is taking more and more the upper hand : I fight against it, tho', as much as I can, for fear of some day weeping myself all away. A feeling is growing upon me, that I have pretty well got to the end of life's journey : there has long been no question of goal, but the pretext also, maybe even the excuse, will fail me soon. Don't misunderstand me, if I confess with mildest candour that it is ever growing harder to me, to hold anything worth serious consideration : nothing grips me any more, and all belief is lacking; there's only one way left to bring me round, — to weep together with me ! — That is precisely what good Hans did, and Liszt as well: the good old Frommann also came and helped ! And really it did help me, in a sort, to bear the other people's praises of my courage, their talk of fame and glory. — So I departed from Weimar in quite an amicable mood, and above all, I took away a very charming memory of Liszt ; who is also leaving Weimar — where he has been able to plant just nothing — to fare at first into the vague. His Faust really gave me great joy, and its second part (Gretchen) made an unforgetably deep impression on me. What filled me with great melancholy, was that all this could only be performed with quite unusual mediocrity: everything had to be seen to in one rehearsal, and Hans, who conducted, did wonders to make the execution even tolerable. So, this has been the goal of all the sacrifices of our lucky Liszt, too — that he could not wring from this wretched world so much as the bare material for a good performance of his work ! How profoundly that reflection confirmed me in my resignation ! And I had to learn much besides, on this occasion, that shed a final light upon my own position in the world. I learnt exactly how it stands with all the princes from whom I have felt driven to expect a little, more or less, for some time past ; now I know that even the best of them, with the best of will, is impotent to do anything for me. That honestly was good for me, and not a grimace could I pull at it ; but I have a feeling that it must soon be over now, and — in sober truth !— I'm glad of it ! Well, I've been in Vienna several days [since the 14th]. A good-natured enthusiast, Dr. Standthardtner, has lent me his home for a few weeks, while the family is away ; after that I shall have to fend for myself, or perhaps find someone else who'll put me up ! Unfortunately my tenor, Ander, is still out of voice, and the study of Tristan is delayed thereby ; but as I have nothing else in view, and should harm the undertaking if I left Vienna, I am awaiting whatever the stars shall decide about this final scheme of mine, which, like the last flutter of the veil of Maya, still chains me to this life. The people here are good to me ; but none of them actually knows the danger into which I am dragging them with my Tristan, and perhaps it all will still become impossible as soon as they find out. Isolde alone [Frau Mayer-Dustmann] — a little of whose part I lately went through with her — has an inkling of what is at stake. How horrified they will be, one fine day, when I blurt out that they all must go to ground with me ! — Down to now I can testify that I have never duped anyone wilfully. When the management inquired my terms, it was impossible for me to ask or stipulate for money ; the only thing I bargained for, was that my singers and the orchestra should be most studiously saved for me a whole month before the projected first performance. That gives me the requisite composure ; for I am drawing near my last goal now, and know that I can do something toward reaching it only by waiving every kind of obligation. — So come, my child, and the sooner the better! I'm a dreadful egoist to urge you to it, and unless Otto is very fond of me, he has cause enough not to fall in with my petition* But this is a last word : the course and meaning of the world are dead against me ; I can stamp my last clear imprint on it only if I do not give the smallest thought to sparing of myself. For your comfort I may say, however, that I am in surprisingly good health ; my appearance is capital, so everybody tells me, and my patience has steeled itself quite cheeringly. Merely, I'm excessively soft ; for instance, human beings' treatment of dumb animals makes me grieve more than ever. Also I am clearer-sighted than of yore, and getting to make less and less use of Illusion. So venture it, my child ! I'll write you another time about my journey with Olliviers [from Weimar] via Munich and Reichenhall (near Salzburg). A thousand good wishes! Every kind thing to Otto and the children ! Adieu, dear Child ! R. W. (Seilerstatte 806, 3rd floor, Vienna.)
Richard Wagner
Source: Richard Wagner to Mathilde Wesendonck, translated by Ellis, No. 121