Monday, March 31:
Still unwell, but in spite of it very sweet and friendly. R. changes the position of his library, which causes quite a lot of disturbance.
Downstairs with the children, I write to Mme Lucca and to my father. Long walk with R. and the children in splendid weather, stopped at the Rollwenzel tavern. It made R. laugh to see me there, and he kept exclaiming, “The enchanted prince, the enchanted prince.” He recalls the country outings of his youth, the discussions, arguing about Frederick the Great, Joseph II, Napoleon. Suddenly a call for silence, the Freischütz Overture was being played. These, he said, were among the impressions in his life that had infinitely excited him. A hare skips across the field. “It is amazing,” R. remarks, “how these animals go on living so close to human beings.”
In the evening dictation, much emotion at the memory of Hans’s sympathy during the devastating episode of Tannhäuser in Paris. R. picked violets for me.