Some time elapsed, during which the Wesendonck family took a pleasure trip of several weeks to Northern Italy.

The arrival of the promised Erard grand-piano made me painfully conscious of what a tin kettle my old grand-piano from Breitkopf und Hartel had been, and I forthwith banished it to the lower regions, where my wife begged she might keep it as a souvenir ’of old times.’  She afterwards took it with her to Saxony, where she sold it for three hundred marks.  The new piano appealed to my musical sense immensely, and whilst I was improvising I seemed to drift quite naturally into the soft nocturnal sounds of the second act of Tristan, the composition of which I now began to sketch out.  This was at the beginning of May.  My work was unexpectedly interrupted by the command of the Grand Duke of Weimar to meet him on a certain day in Lucerne, where he was staying after his return from Italy.  I availed myself of this opportunity to have a lengthy interview at the hotel in Chamberlain von Beaulieu’s room, with my former nominal patron whose acquaintance I had made at the time of my flight.

From this interview with Karl Alexander I gathered that my attitude towards the Grand Duke of Baden, in regard to the performance of Tristan, in Karlsruhe, had made an impression on the Weimar court, for while he made particular mention of that matter, I gathered from what he said that he was also anxious about my Nibelungen work, in which he declared he had always taken the liveliest interest, and wanted my assurance that this composition would be produced at Weimar.  I had no serious objection to that.  Moreover, I was vastly entertained by the personality of this free-and-easy good-natured Prince, who, though he sat chatting next to me on a narrow sofa, was evidently anxious by his singularly choice language to impress me as a man of culture.  I was much struck to find that his dignified bearing was not in the least disturbed when Herr von Beaulieu, with the object of amusing us, made some rather clumsy remarks which were meant to be witty.  After the Grand Duke had asked me in the most guarded way my opinion of Liszt’s compositions, I was surprised to notice by his general bearing that he was not at all uncomfortable when the chamberlain expressed the most contemptuous opinions about the Grand Duke’s famous friend, saying that Liszt’s composing was a mere mania on his part.  This gave me a strange insight into this royal friendship, and I had some difficulty in keeping serious during the interview.  I had to pay the Grand Duke another visit on the following morning, but on that occasion I saw him without his chamberlain, whose absence certainly had a favourable effect on the Prince’s remarks about his friend.

Liszt, whose inspiring conversation and advice he loudly asserted that he could not praise enough.  I was surprised to see the Grand Duchess walk in upon us, and was received by her with a most condescending bow, the formality of which I have never forgotten.  I looked upon my meeting with these exalted personages as an exceedingly amusing adventure in my travels.  I have never heard from them since. [Footnote:  This was dictated in 1869] Later on, when I called on Liszt at Weimar, just before he left there, he could not even induce the Grand Duke to receive me!