Friday, January 23:
R. slept well, the weather is fine, and he begins a letter to the King which, he tells me, will contain many complaints. The complete work, Thalysia, has now arrived, and he is reading it with enjoyment. In the afternoon he rides into town and returns, as always, rather worn out.
In the evening Herr Joukowsky introduces his servant to us, a Neapolitan folk singer, who delights us with his singing and his passion; among other things, R. admires his breath control, and the things he sings are unique in their wild tenderness, their ingratiating gaiety, and their seductive sensuousness. But what feelings come over me when the singer tries to remember the Rhinemaidens' theme (he has seen the Ring)! R. plays it, and all the beauty of Nature rises before us; where before we had seen the lustful animal, now we have the innocent human being. Pepino himself is very remarkable, sturdy, thickset, simple, and proud: a lovely experience! R. observes that it is true that Italian opera is based on folk song, but it has been so terribly spoiled.
R. has ordered and received Renan's Les Eglises, but he does not wish to read it, saying he knows it all already; Lecky has instructed him very nicely. The only thing that interests him is the mention of Marcion, that he wished to separate the New from the Old Testament. Before bringing in his servant, Herr J. mentioned the French people who hissed R.'s work; this put R. into a great rage; it was not the French, R. said, but the German Jews: "And never mind the Jews, it is we ourselves, we weaklings who can only sigh over all the horrible things going on."