This is the musical news of Weymar, which probably will be of less interest to you than to me. Of my life, my hope, my endurance, I have nothing to say that is cheerful….
Whether the great political event, the death of the Emperor, will have a softening influence on my personal fate, remains questionable. In a few weeks I shall have direct news. Whatever it may turn out to be, I cannot waver or hesitate. To you, dearest Richard, remains cordially and invariably attached
Your F.
I am constantly being asked for introductions to you. Generally I refuse them, but in a few cases I have to yield.
Tell Klindworth he is to write to me about your Philharmonic concerts. His cousin, a very amiable lady, will shortly bring you news of Weymar, where she has been staying several months.
182. DEAR, GREAT MAN,
For a long time I have been wishing to write to you, but had not the courage to do so. Alas! how can I speak to you from my heart? Today a sheet of paper with a red border comes under my hand; so many symbols are comprised in that colour! It is devoted to love, it is the purple of kings, and the image of human blood. It is therefore suited to both of us: to you as the emblem of your sovereign genius, to me as that of an ardent attachment, the flames of which are my happiness and my glory; to both of us as the sign of the wounds which destiny has inflicted on us without touching our souls. Need I tell you how much I should like to see you again, and how sincerely I desire that your sojourn in London will be agreeable to you in one way or another? I can do nothing, nothing, except the best thing of all: to love, to bless, to admire.
Your affection is very dear to us; continue in it; it is the sun of our starless sky.
May God be with you. Our hearts are always yours.