Monday, April 5:
A good night; in the morning much from Rome about Lohengrin.
No dictation; R. thinks about his article, would like to begin it soon. The letter to the syndic of Rome amuses him: “You clever creature!” he says to me, and “Who can stand up against us?”
In the evening whist, and a sudden visit from a Herr Cottran with telegrams about Lohengrin. “Ah! quel bonheur, j’ai réussi!” (“What happiness, I have succeeded!”) R. exclaims merrily.