Monday, July 31:
Fetched Princess Barjatinsky from the railroad station, then Niemann’s little daughter. I get a fleeting idea of what floods of ugly talk and opinion are always flowing about here. What most shocks me is the falseness and mendacity behind it, and I feel very much like wishing, with our good Falstaff, that it were bedtime and all past.
In the evening, Walküre, rehearsal of the entr’actes.