January 1, 1831.—­There you have what you wanted!  Have you received the letter?  Have you delivered any of the messages it contained?  To-day I still regret what I have done.  I was full of sweet hopes, and now am tormented by anxiety and doubts.  Perhaps she mocks at me—­laughs at me?  Perhaps—­ah! does she love me?  This is what my passionate heart asks.  You wicked AEsculapius, you were at the theatre, you eyed her incessantly with your opera-glass; if this is the case a thunderbolt shall...Do not forfeit my confidence; oh, you! if I write to you I do so only for my own sake, for you do not deserve it.

Just now when I am writing I am in a strange state; I feel as if I were with you [with his dear ones], and were only dreaming what I see and hear here.  The voices which I hear around me, and to which my ear is not accustomed, make upon me for the most part only an impression like the rattling of carriages or any other indifferent noise.  Only your voice or that of Titus could to-day wake me out of my torpor.  Life and death are perfectly alike to me.  Tell, however, my parents that I am very happy, that I am in want of nothing, that I amuse myself famously, and never feel lonely.

If she mocks at me, tell her the same; but if she inquires kindly for me, shows some concern about me, whisper to her that she may make her mind easy; but add also that away from her I feel everywhere lonely and unhappy.  I am unwell, but this I do not write to my parents.  Everybody asks what is the matter with me.  I should like to answer that I have lost my good spirits.  However, you know best what troubles me!  Although there is no lack of entertainment and diversion here, I rarely feel inclined for amusement.

To-day is the first of January.  Oh, how sadly this year begins for me!  I love you [his friends] above all things.  Write as soon as possible.  Is she at Radom?  Have you thrown up redoubts?  My poor parents!  How are my friends faring?

I could die for you, for you all!  Why am I doomed to be here so lonely and forsaken?  You can at least open your hearts to each other and comfort each other.  Your flute will have enough to lament!  How much more will my piano have to weep!

You write that you and your regiment are going to take the field; how will you forward the note?  Be sure you do not send it by a messenger; be cautious!  The parents might perhaps—­ they might perhaps view the matter in a false light.

   I embrace you once more.  You are going to the war; return as
   a colonel.  May all pass off well!  Why may I not at least be
   your drummer?

   Forgive the disorder in my letter, I write as if I were
   intoxicated.