Tuesday, November 21:
Herr Feustel reminds us again that it is time to return home; R. is very deeply upset.
But in the morning we visited the Vatican again; entering the Sistine Chapel he said, “This is like my theater; one feels it is no place for jokes.” In the afternoon, the Villa Albani: “And marble statues stand and gaze at me!”
Of all the villas we have so far seen, this one pleases R. most.
Returning home late, R. discovers that the post office was not prepared to hand over the long-awaited letter from Herr v. R. to the servant. A series of unlucky accidents ensues: the servant leaves without handing over the necessary permit, R. takes letters with him which are not accepted as sufficient identification, and in his haste and rage he breaks the coach door. Finally, one minute before closing time, he is given the letter, which says that nothing can be done for him.
Long conversation between R. and me in consequence. Great melancholy.