I had already learned in Berlin that it was difficult, if not impossible, to find a reception as a young composer with a grand opera. An opera by Hummel, who was highly regard as pianist and composer, and held an appointment at that time as Kapellmeister in Weimar (I believe the work was called Mathilde was accepted for performance by the direction of the theater in Berlin, and waited then seven or nine years for its production. How long would I have had to wait as an unknown newcomer, had I achieved a place on the waiting list. At any rate, I was lacking poem and poet for the serious, tragic opera for which I felt that I was uniquely suited; but the urge to work was always present.

A random impulse was decisive.

One morning I felt unwell, wanted to rest, and went to my nearby friend Sietze, — he might send me some sort of easy book. I received a volume from Goethe. Lying on the sofa, leafing through it, I came upon the SingspielIerh und Bätelh, which I, by chance, did not yet know. Without particular commitment I began to read. Then, for the little poem:

Gehe!

Verschmahe …

I came upon the mood and melody in a moment, unintentionally, and almost unconsciously. I took a sheet of music paper, and wrote down the tune. Immediately illness and everything else was forgotten. When Sietze came a few hours later to look after me, I had already composed the first five songs. He applauded them, and soon I no longer needed his encouragement — the whole SingspielwAS completed in a couple of weeks, including the overture — only as a sketch, but with a definite idea of the instrumentation.

Earlier and later undertaking had never come to fruition without my having let them first mature within me for a long time. This time everything appeared spontaneously and without previous decision, I scarcely knew how. Now for the first time, with incentive from friends and experts in music, I decided to present the work for public performance. The score of the songs, and finally the overture, soon lay before me complete.