Friday, April 2:
R. had a good night. I let him sleep as long as possible, so he writes no biography today. But after my sitting he plays part of the 3rd act of Parsifal for me. To my emotion he responds with quiet satisfaction, saying the work does have a color of its own, a melancholy yet mild one, I add.
After lunch conversation comes to the superior beauty of the male over the female in the animal world, and R. says: “The females resist; the males have to dazzle them with their beauty. This shyness has led to the female virtue of modesty.” I ask him whether some connection might not be found between the resistance of the female and the idea of redemption. R.: “If one probes very deep, yes.”
We accompany our friends the Liechtensteins back to Torre del Greco. R., however, is unhappy with the long journey, and it is very windy. We are tired, too tired even for whist, and we chat about this and that. We are amused by our friend Joukowsky’s accounts of old Liphart, who hides his bills of exchange in books, then forgets which book and searches through the whole library, cursing and raging.