Sunday, February 8:
R. had a somewhat restless night and is impatient with taking all this medicine. He wants to stay here for a year, then return to Bayreuth for a year to see whether there have been any developments; if not, move to America in his 70th year. “Escape from these 15-mark contributions! But what horrifies me above all is having to live on bad performances of my works, even urging theater directors to give them!”
We take a walk as far as the Villa Postiglione; he delights in the splendid road, its cultivated wildness. We walk very slowly, but in the evening he is very worn out, his skin red, and he finds talking difficult.