Do not look out for a copyist. Madame Wesendonck has given me a gold pen of indestructible power, which has once more turned me into a caligraphic pedant. The scores will be my most perfect masterpiece of caligraphy. One cannot fly from his destiny. Meyerbeer years ago admired nothing so much in my scores as the neat writing. This act of admiration has been my curse; I must write neat scores as long as I live in this world.
You will not be allowed to see the "Rhinegold" till it has been completed in this worthy fashion, and that can only be done in certain idle hours of the long winter evenings. At present I have no time for it. I must begin the composition of the "Valkyrie," which I feel joyfully in every limb.
Greet the Princess and the Child with the full power of greeting. For today I must be satisfied with this request; I can write no more, not even with my gold pen. I might say a good deal more if I were not taken with a fit of weeping, as once on the railway. I have just been called out; an eagle was flying over our house. A good omen!
"Long live the eagle;" he flew splendidly. The swallows were very anxious.
Farewell in the sign of the eagle.
Your
R. W.
160.
Let me tell you that tears prevent me from reading on.
Oh, you are unique of your kind!