of that part, was a little hard on her and on me.  Please do not turn me into the “father” of this debutante, whose interest I should have considered better if I had arranged her first appearance in some piece by Verdi or Donizetti, or indeed anything but lohengrin.  But enough of such stuff, although I am grieved to see Herr A., the tenor of the future (if well prepared), dwindle into thin air also.  May heaven grant that Caspari will keep on, or that a decent tenor may come to you from some other place.

Apropos, I must ask you to inform the Royal Capellmeister Fischer in Hanover, that he must make a copy of the Dutchman score do for the present.  The few autographed copies which were made at the time, not by myself, but by a copyist, have been reduced to so few that I cannot possibly spare another.  The first twenty-five copies I scattered about recklessly, before any cock crowed for this opera, and the very few remaining ones are naturally of value to me.  Excuse me, therefore, and refer him to the time when the sale of my works will have become so lucrative that the full scores can be engraved.  I am, however, very grateful to him for his sympathy.  Hanover has become a perfect repository of my scores.

Many thanks also for your hints regarding the Hartel affair.  Candidly speaking, the settlement of it is so important to me, that I immediately followed your advice, and wrote to the Hartels in such a manner that they will probably accept my offer, provided that they have been properly informed of the object by you.  This, of course, I assume, and thank you cordially for it.  Well, we shall see.

I am being continually and painfully interrupted in these sufficiently frivolous lines by the invasions of workmen, especially of a Saxon locksmith.  So I had better come to a close, although to my sorrow, for I regret our ill-sustained correspondence, in which at bottom we never express ourselves thoroughly, but, barring a few violent lucubrations, touch each other in a very superficial manner.  I do not say anything today on the important point of your failing health.  I wrote very seriously about it to the Princess some time ago, and am longing for a conclusive answer.  I now hear through you that our magnanimous friend has herself been ill for a long time, and my fears are thus sadly confirmed.  So I must ask you, after all, to let me know at least what steps you are going to take for the thorough recovery of your health.  Have you really settled to persevere in the musical festival of Aix-la-Chapelle, or have you found a doctor with sufficient courage to prohibit your incessant efforts and sacrifices absolutely, and to withdraw you for a time from the world which spoils you more and more, in order to secure your perfect recovery?  Really, dearest Franz, you will cause me the deepest anxiety unless you satisfy me on this point, and every rational person will see that this can be done only by a long and careful cure,