"If you should be able, in connection with the approaching representation of the Rheingold, to bring before the public the history of that theatre project, which the Master told you about, I do not believe that I can be mistaken in saying that you would give him a real and profound satisfaction; for the truth about those events has been so completely disfigured by envy, incapacity, and spite as to be hardly recognisable."
"You may be very sure that I will gladly do what I can."
"It is just because I am sure of your devotion to this noble cause that I make my petition to you."
"But I know nothing about the project. Adhere can I get the information necessary in order not to be misleading?"
"Of course I will tell you all about it, as briefly and dearly as I can. Come upstairs with me to my dressing-room; there you can take notes."
This boudoir, on the first floor, was a little room, with wall coverings and draperies of green silk, and situated in a corner of the house. It overlooked the garden and, through the trees, one could see the blue of the lake and the violet shadows of the mountains. I had already passed many hours in this room, Madam Cosima having had the kindness to read to me there the Hindoo history of Nal and Damayanti, translating it from the German. I was searching just then for biographies of illustrious lovers of all countries, having promised to contribute a series of portraitures for the publication contemplated by the Editor Lecroix, and entitled "Les Grandes Amoureuses." Jean Richepin, Zola, and others collaborated in this work, which, for some reason, was never completed. A few portraitures only appeared in print, but not in the order of succession, and the greater number of the manuscripts were scattered.
I installed myself in my accustomed place on a little divan fitted into the corner. Madam Cosima seated herself in front of me, her elbows resting on the table. She was charming so, in the full light, and with her crown of heavy blond hair. Her soft blue eyes shone with a tender light; a pleased smile half disclosed her pretty teeth. We were both delighted at the idea of planning something which might give pleasure to the Master!
I took a pencil and paper, and listened with all my ears.
"Perhaps you do not know," said she, "that Wagner was condemned to death in Saxony, for having taken part in the revolution of '49. As he fled, in company with others, he owed his escape to a singular chance. In a village near the frontier, his companions were seized, but they did not see Wagner, who was asleep in an out-of-the-way corner of the hall of the inn."
"Wagner condemned to death!"