Monday, May 31:
R. woke up very early; he goes for a walk with the children, tells me of his letter to the King, to whom he wishes a day such as the 22nd. He begins Flaubert's Tentation de Saint Antoine and laughs over the curiously prosaic tone of the opening, in which the saint talks like a secluded epicure. He admits that the peculiar use to which the French language has been put in German detracts from the effect of a French word, "charmant," for example.
Over coffee he talks about Spohr and his last, so very childish, opera, sent to him for consideration; its rejection brought Spohr's anger down on his head, until he met him personally, and "I told all the lies I could." The bookbinder brings the folios, and R. excitedly enjoys himself setting them up; altogether he takes much pleasure in his "makeshift study."
But in the evening he feels tired; ascending those steps really did strain him. But he gaily tells us a joke: "How to put a stop to the mass emigrations?" "Make America Prussian, then not a soul will go there."