Friday, March 28:
Last night it was my turn to dream a sad dream, and it was about R. I tell it to him, and at lunch he says he was so affected by the thought of having been nasty to me that he could write no music, but sought some literary activity instead. He took up his Art and Politics, but this, instead of restoring him, made him angry about all the things he had already said and must now keep on saying all over again! But the sad mood induced by my dream had finally led him back to Amfortas’s sufferings. (He is not pleased with Dr. Schemann’s article in the third issue; he says he would have been able to write his drama just as well even if Wolfram’s poem had never existed - from a book of folk tales, like Tannhäuser.) Something must arouse his anger before he can write literary pieces.
R. goes out in the afternoon, and in the evening we finish Carlyle’s sketch about Cagliostro, with much enjoyment, after R. has told me some very amusing things from Tappert’s newspaper.