Thursday, March 6:
Wild night, thoughts of all kinds jumbled up: the children's health, their birthdays, R.'s birthday, journey to Berlin, summer clothes for the children, certificates of patronage (501 now paid for!) it all passes through my mind, particularly the various books we looked through.
R. also had a bad night: the food we are having sent along from the Sonne does not agree with him. It is a long time since our situation has been so wretched; I thank God I still retain my strength and good spirits.
In the afternoon Herr Batz, who has been engaged to act as agent, but who unfortunately, with a few interpolated and misunderstood words, shows little that recommends him. When he has gone, I read R. the little essay on the mastersingers and the minnesingers, which leads us to talk about the Middle Ages, so wonderfully harmonious and full of life, when a knight could neither read nor write, yet was a poet!
Renaissance splendor, extraordinary and first complete liberation from Byzantinism, a costume, R. observes.