Thursday, June 12:
R. had a good night’s rest. But yesterday he again said he wanted to write symphonies for me, though not in many movements: “I must do something that pleaseth me well,” he says, quoting from the poem Alexander. Over coffee we read the curious but, for us, heartening letter of a man from Charlottenburg, Herr Forster. A rainy day; I have many business matters to attend to, some to do with Naples, which is already starting to cause vexations! I hear R. playing parts of Die Meistersinger, and in the evening we continue with this divine work-the second act, Eva and Pogner, Eva and Sachs. Discussion on tariffs; R. says he feels this decision will spell the ruin of the German nation. His mind is full of all kinds of ideas about writing poetry and music, and he means to set them down, for he says he is having too good a time, he must do something! . . .