I spent a good deal of time with these two, who were sincerely concerned about me and did their best to cheer me.  Tausig, it is true, was rather more reserved, as he had aspirations in high quarters at that time.  But he, too, accepted Frau Dustmann’s invitations to the three of us.  She was then at Hietzing for the summer, and there dinners were given more than once, and also a few vocal rehearsals for Isolde, for which part her voice seemed to possess some of the spiritual susceptibility required.  There, too, I read through the poem of Tristan again, still thinking the prospect of its performance possible with the exercise of patience and enthusiasm.  For the present patience was the quality most needed; certainly nothing was to be obtained by enthusiasm.  Ander’s voice still failed him and did not improve, and no doctor was prepared to fix a limit to his malady.  I got through the time as best I could, and hit upon the idea of translating back into German the new scene to Tannhauser, written to a French text for the performance in Paris.  Cornelius had first to copy it from the original score for me, as this was in a very defective condition.  I accepted his copy without inquiring further about the original left in his hands, and we shall see the result of this later on.

A musician named Winterberger also joined our party.  He was an old acquaintance, and I found him in a position I much envied.  Countess Banfy, an old friend of Liszt’s, had taken him into her very pleasant house at Hietzing, and he was thus in excellent quarters, living at ease, and with nothing to trouble about, as the kind lady thought it her duty to keep this fellow—­in other respects so undeserving—­supplied with everything.  Through him I again had news of Karl Ritter, and was told that he was now at Naples, where he lived in the house of a piano-maker, whose children he had to teach in return for board and lodging.  It seems that Winterberger, after running through everything, had on the strength of some of Liszt’s introductions started off to seek his fortune in Hungary.  But things did not fall out to his satisfaction, and he was now enjoying compensation in the house of the worthy Countess.  I met an excellent harpist there—­also one of the family—­Fraulein Mossner.  By the Countess’s orders she was made to betake herself and her harp to the garden, where, either at or with her harp, she had a most pert air and looked quite delightful, so that I gained an impression which lingered pleasantly in my mind.  Unfortunately I became involved in a quarrel with the young lady because I would not compose a solo for her instrument.  From the time when I definitely refused to humour her ambitions she took no more notice of me.