Thursday, May 8:
R. dreamed that he and I wanted to drown ourselves in the bathtub; he says it had been a sort of legal affair, his sister had died, and he told himself, “Cosima always does as I do.” This re-emergence of my reflections in a dream arouses strange feelings in me - could I but prove worthy!
Much discussion in the morning about Carlyle, “who did not have sufficient regard for W. Scott’s poetic talent.” R.’s astonishment over characters such as Shelley, who leave him quite cold, however much they pile on the horrors; how different the Spaniards, whose manner seems like a natural phenomenon. Then R. says how strange he feels when he regards his completed Parsifal - the time spent on it seems to have passed in a flash. He works on his article and says at lunch that he has written only one page.
Tariff disputes. R. observes that Bismarck is handling tariffs like the “suffrage universel,” and to get them through he is now allying himself with Windthorst, “with all and sundry,” at random. In the afternoon we follow in each other’s footsteps, R. and I: first of all to see friend Gross, then to various shops. R. buys little rakes for the bank he has planned for this evening.
All our neighbors come along, six in total, and the Jagers as well, and R. revives “youthful memories”; sets up the bank, taking great trouble and getting much enjoyment from arranging things properly, then initiates all of us ignoramuses into the secrets of a “gambling hell.” Lusch and Boni are his croupiers; he calls them Hugin and Munin. Great amusement, and R. sets it up so that winnings shall be valid only for our guests. When they have gone, R. says it is both strange and touching to see this family which has settled here in order to follow his star. R. and I seem to me like departed spirits who have returned to this world and, once alone together, talk about their home.
A nice letter from Herr Schon, directly to R.