PARIS, _August 18, 1846_.
I arrived to-day in a middling condition of preservation, but my head is
still dizzy from travelling four hundred kilomètres without a stop. I
need your bodily presence to restore me. But when do you intend to
return? That is the question. I suppose you find the sea and the marine
monsters far too captivating to think of coming so soon. I need you very
much, however, I do assure you. I can not tell you the number of
annoyances and disappointments that have accumulated on me during this
short journey. I recall Gloster’s dream: “I would not sleep another such
night though I were to live a world of happy days.” Returning here I
feel more isolated than usual, and more depressed than in any of the
cities I have just left. I feel somewhat as an emigrant who returns to
his native land and finds there a new generation.
You will think I have aged shockingly during this journey. ‘Tis true,
and I should not be surprised if something like the fate of Epimenides
were to happen to me. All this means that I am horribly blue and cross,
and that I have a great desire to see you. Alas! You will not hasten the
time of your return by one hour. I should be wiser to wait in patience.
When your gowns shall have faded in the sea air, or when you receive new
and fresh ones from Paris, you will, perhaps, think of me, but I shall
be then at Cologne, or may be at Barcelona. I expect to go to Cologne
the first of September, and to Barcelona in October, for I am told that
marvellous manuscripts are to be found there.
They say that a woman enjoys nothing so much as to display her fine
gowns. I have nothing to offer you equivalent to such joys, but I can
not endure to think that such things as these constitute your happiness.
God is all-wise! Whatever may be the news you have to tell me, write to
me promptly. Shall we see each other before all the leaves have fallen?
Do you mean to have me eat peaches from Montreuil this year? You know
how I love them! If you have any affectionate memory of me, I hope it
will inspire you to form a generous resolution. I have fever, and my
hand trembles abominably as I write.