Wednesday, June 25:
R. had a good night, and he continues revising his article. We talked again about my father; R. tells me how he first saw him talking in front of a mirror, and his first impression was not a good one: “But now he is a complete original, and that suits him splendidly.”
Our gardener is a very curious example of human folly, spurred on by wickedness: an unfathomable mystery. One is astonished by it - and has to laugh!
The weather is still not bright; we go for a little walk in the palace gardens with the two dogs. In the evening R. gets Herr Rub. to play Beethoven’s E-flat Major Sonata; delight in its youthful bloom. The minuet is one of R.’s favorites; it brings to my mind Raphael’s young Madonnas - the same grace, modesty, the same individuality within its dependence on great models.