My studs are much finer than yours, dear Child; that any one can see.  Yours have the sole advantage of moving one to resignation, while mine excite my vanity terribly—­a kind of surreptitious vanity, not before the eyes of people, but all to myself; merely for the sake of the studs, not for effect.  It is just the same with my “Nibelungen.”  You always think of the effect of the performance, I of the shirt studs that may be hidden in it.

Well, my blessings on you.  If only the dear “lady friend” would soon recover her health, so that the great professors of Munich might delight in the “Rectory family”!  Dear, good Princess, and dear, dear Franz,

Mon Bon grand!  Good and great you are.  My blessings on you!  Farewell, and forget all bad and unpleasant things about me.  Remember only the kindness of which you thought me worthy.

Adieu.  I am always yours.

My wife has not scolded me once, although yesterday I had the spleen badly enough.  She greets you with all her power, and is thankful for your friendship.

228.

Zurich, December 6th, 1856.

I have not forgotten to convey your greetings and inquiries.  Wesendonck has written to me in reply, and enclosed a letter of his wife’s to the Princess, which I herewith ask you to hand to her.

I long for news from you.  How are you, dear Franz, and does the Princess keep her health?  From her daughter I soon expect a letter, as we have promised to correspond with each other.

I feel so-so.  I shall finish the first scene one of these days.  Curiously enough, it is only during composition that the real essence of my poem is revealed to me.  Everywhere I discover secrets which had been previously hidden from me, and everything in consequence grows more passionate, more impulsive.  Altogether it will require a good deal of obstinacy to get all this done, and you have not really put me in the right mind for it.

However, I must think that I am doing all this for myself, in order to pass the days.  Be it so.

You may believe me or not, I have no other desire than that of coming to you soon.  Do not fail to let me know always what chances there are.  I want music, too, and, Heaven knows, you are the only one who can supply me with it.  As a musician, I feel perfectly mean, while I think I have discovered that you are the greatest musician of all times.  This will be something new to you.

Adieu.  Tell M. that I have overhauled the old red letter case, and have got my biography up to December 1st, 1856, into shape.

A hundred thousand remembrances to mother and child.

Farewell, and take care to let me have some of your new scores soon.

Your R. W.

229.

Munich, December 12th, 1856.

Dearest Richard,