Monday, January 7:
Coming from his bath, R. says to me: “You are quite right—we should have slaves” (I declared recently that slaves had been happier than the present-day proletariat), “but who should be the first slave? Ross or Georg?” We laugh heartily. I continue arranging the books with Herr v. W., and we finish the first section. R. works on his essay. When I told R. yesterday that if he was not in the mood to write it, he should drop it, he replied, “Oh, I can’t be such a weakling.” I: “The weakness which is creating Parsifal.” He: “What comes pouring out of one’s soul can’t be described as work.”
I spoke to Herr v. W. about the Society of Patrons, and afterward R. says to me: “You turn my life into a real blessing. When shall we go down to our graves?” “Whenever you like,” I reply! In the evening scenes from Shakespeare’s Coriolanus.