By Christmas my work had come to an end, my score was written out complete with the most laudable neatness, and now I was to return to Leipzig for the New Year, in order to get my opera accepted by the theatre there.  On the way home I visited Nuremberg, where I stayed a week with my sister Clara and with her husband, who were engaged at the theatre there.  I well remember how happy and comfortable I felt during this pleasant visit to the very same relatives who a few years previously, when I had stayed with them at Magdeburg, had been upset by my resolve to adopt music as a calling.  Now I had become a real musician, had written a grand opera, and had already brought out many things without coming to grief.  The sense of all this was a great joy to me, while it was no less flattering to my relatives, who could not fail to see that the supposed misfortune had in the end proved to my advantage.  I was in a jolly mood and quite unrestrained—­a state of mind which was very largely the result not only of my brother-in-law’s cheerful and sociable household, but also of the pleasant tavern life of the place.  In a much more confident and elated spirit I returned to Leipzig, where I was able to lay the three huge volumes of my score before my highly delighted mother and sister.

Just then my family was the richer for the return of my brother Julius from his long wanderings.  He had worked a good while in Paris as a goldsmith, and had now set up for himself in that capacity in Leipzig.  He too, like the rest, was eager to hear something out of my opera, which, to be sure, was not so easy, as I entirely lacked the gift of playing anything of the sort in an easy and intelligible way.  Only when I was able to work myself into a state of absolute ecstasy was it possible for me to render something with any effect.  Rosalie knew that I meant it to draw a sort of declaration of love from her; but I have never felt certain whether the embrace and the sisterly kiss which were awarded me after I had sung my great aria from Ada, were bestowed on me from real emotion or rather out of affectionate regard.  On the other hand, the zeal with which she urged my opera on the director of the theatre, Ringelhardt, the conductor and the manager was unmistakable, and she did it so effectually that she obtained their consent for its performance, and that very speedily.  I was particularly interested to learn that the management immediately showed themselves eager to try to settle the matter of the costumes for my drama:  but I was astonished to hear that the choice was in favour of oriental attire, whereas I had intended, by the names I had selected, to suggest a northern character for the setting.  But it was precisely these names which they found unsuitable, as fairy personages are not seen in the North, but only in the East; while apart from this, the original by Gozzi, which formed the basis of the work, undoubtedly bore an oriental character.  It was with the utmost indignation