especially those to Fischer and Heine, are packed with inquiries about the fate of his opera—­he could get no answer at all for a long while, and after it was definitely accepted the usual troubles occurred through the whims and caprices of singers.  Even his idol and divinity, Schroeder-Devrient, great artist though she was on the stage, played the very prima donna—­which is about as bad a thing as can be said of any woman—­off the stage so far as Rienzi was concerned.  Being a prima donna first and an artist afterwards, she thought nothing of dashing Wagner’s hopes by expressing a desire to appear in some other opera before Rienzi; and as the delay meant a prolongation of the actual misery and possible starvation at Paris we can picture Wagner’s impotent rage and despair.

On October 14, 1841, we find him writing to Heine: 

“...  Herr von Luettichau has definitely consented to my opera being put on the stage after Reissiger’s.  That is all very good; but how many questions does not this answer suggest!  For instance:  does the general management propose to place my work upon the stage with the outlay indispensable to a brilliant effect?  On this point W——­writes me:  ’The general management will leave nothing undone to equip your opera in a suitable manner.’  You will understand how terribly terse this seems to me!  I am not greatly surprised at receiving no letter from Reissiger since last March:  he has worked for me—­that is the best and most honourable answer; besides, it would be foolish on my part to expect that Reissiger, now that his own opera must be fairly engrossing his attention, should be much occupied about me.  But what alarms me is the absolute silence of our Devrient!  I think I have already written a dozen letters to her:  I am not exactly surprised at her sending me no single line in answer, because one knows how terrible a thing letter-writing is to many people.  But that she has never even indirectly sent me a word, nor let me have a hint, makes me downright uneasy.  Good heavens!  So much depends upon her—­it would really be a mere humanity on her part if she, perhaps through her lady’s-maid, had sent me a message to this effect:  ’Make your mind easy!  I am taking an interest in your affair!’—­certainly everything which I have learnt here and there about her behaviour with regard to me gives me every reason to feel comfortable; for instance, she is said to have declared some while ago in Leipzig that she hoped my opera would be brought out in Dresden.  This token would have fully quieted me, if it had only come directly to my ears or eyes:  hearsay, however, is far too uncertain a thing.

“A month ago I likewise wrote to her, and earnestly begged her to let me have only a line with the name of the lady-singer whom she would like to be cast for the part of Irene, so that I might make a formal list to propose to the management.  No answer!  Oh, my best Herr Heine, if your kindness would only allow