Dearest Franz,
Is not this a miserable thing? I had been looking forward to your letter as to a Christmas present, and now it brings me nothing but sad and comfortless news. That you are once more confined to your bed is the crown of my sorrow. Ah, heavens! Why do we not give in altogether? It seems to me that you have not received my long letter, which I sent you at Weimar on the supposition that you would go there straight from Munich, and the same has, I fear, been the case with my letter to M., or else she would have surely sent me a few lines in reply. Concerning my letter to you, it touches upon a point to which I must urgently return once more, because I want your definite reply as soon as possible.
Since you left me an important change has taken place in my situation; I have absolutely given up the annual allowance which the R.'s made me. In such circumstances, my only hope is the speedy success of the Hartel affair in connection with the Nibelungen, which had been broken off. In accordance with your kind offer, I gave you unlimited power with regard to it. But now you are again tied to your bed, and cannot, in any case for the present, pay the visit to Leipzig which would be necessary for the settlement of such an affair. Consider, therefore, whether you are quite confident that the bargain will be completed after all, provided that I declare myself willing, as I do herewith, to accept any offer, knowing well that, however small the result may be, I could not get more in any other way. If you are quite sure of a final success, the further question would be, how it would be possible to raise some money on account at once.
In any case, I ask you, and authorise you, and request you, as soon as possible, to come to a distinct understanding with the Grand Duke as to whether he would be inclined to confirm his favourable opinion of me by granting me a pension, or, at least, a sufficient annual subsidy for the three years which it will take me to complete my Nibelungen. In the eventuality of a pension for life I should, of course, accept the obligation of staying every year some time at Weimar, and give him my services according to his wish, as soon as the return to Germany is opened to me. You no doubt remember our discussion of this point, and of the possible concurrence of other princes well inclined towards me. But what I particularly care for is SPEEDY AND ABSOLUTE CERTAINTY. At this moment, when I am most in need of help, I want to know DEFINITELY how matters stand. This uncertainty places me in a wavering position of hoping, expecting, wishing, and desiring, which involves my circumstances more and more, apart from demoralising me. In short, I want to know WHERE to look for my friends. Therefore, much-tried friend, look upon this as your last attempt at intercession between me and a world, my position towards which I must know exactly. Patience of any kind is no longer in question. My amnesty will be granted no sooner than at the moment when Saxony herself considers that the time has come; those gentlemen like to appear independent.
Farewell for today. I shall very soon write to you about other matters, which, I hope, will be pleasanter to both of us.
Dearest Franz,
Wretched and helpless as I am, I must once more trouble you with something which this time will not be altogether without interest to you. I enclose the letter of the person concerned, so that you may be au fait at once. (The enthusiasm displayed for me will, I hope, not excite you.) B. A., according to the testimony of my wife, is a young, very handsome, slender fellow, as, indeed, you may have guessed by the liking of X. for him. Arrange, therefore, that he may make his debut as Tannhäuser and Lohengrin at Weimar under your direction. In that manner I shall know that he will be under the surest guidance, and that I shall have the best information as to the value of the young man. Perhaps you will be kind enough to send for him previously. I have not yet got back to the mood for writing to the kind Princess and the good Child. I am annoyed at being always in a state of lamentation, and must therefore wait for a favourable hour, for I do not like absolutely to deceive you. You yourself are used to my laments, and expect nothing else.
My health, too, is once more so bad, that for ten days, after I had finished the sketch for the first act of Siegfried, I was literally not able to write a single bar without being driven away from my work by a most alarming headache. Every morning I sit down, stare at the paper, and am glad enough when I get as far as reading Walter Scott. The fact is, I have once more over-taxed myself, and how am I to recover my strength? With Rhinegold I got on well enough, considering my circumstances, but the Valkyrie caused me much pain. At present my nervous system resembles a pianoforte very much out of tune, and on that instrument I am expected to produce Siegfried. Well, I fancy the strings will break at last, and then there will be an end. We cannot alter it; this is a life fit for a dog. I hope you are out of bed again. I wish I were a little more like you. Can you not let me have the Mountain Symphony? Do not forget to send it to me.
Adieu, my good, dear Franz. You are my only comfort. A thousand greetings to all at Altenburg.
Franz Liszt
Source: Project Gutenberg eBook #4234, Correspondence of Wagner and Liszt — Volume 2, No. 233