Thursday, June 17:
R. had bad dreams, that I had gone away and that he called loudly after me, but could not hit on my proper name. But he goes for a walk, greets Malwida, and at 11:30 calls me in for dictation. Splendid things about the Sistine Madonna. At lunch he seems somewhat run down, but he is soon cheerful again, and the list of members of the Order of Maximilian makes merry reading, even if unpleasant memories are also attached to it.
After his siesta we go by streetcar, “the ship of the desert,” to Santa Lucia, and from there in two boats out to the English ships. Lovely view of the city, and the ships themselves interesting in their way, but it all arouses sad thoughts, and, as R. says, “All done just to give the Jews more opportunities for financial transactions.” The crew makes a rather sorry impression: “Paltry people; but the world has always been ruled by people like that.” How different the wild, unruly crowds in Santa Lucia! Home in a convoy of 4 carrozzelle.
Before taking the streetcar we sat down in front of our door, and an old beggarwoman, well known to us, came to join us, “Mme Rembrandt,” as R. calls her. The crazy creature becomes very bold, plays tricks on us, including one on Herr von Stein, “hello bambino” [“handsome boy”]; she purloins his stick and refuses to give it back unless he allows her to kiss his hand. The laughter grows, until Herr v. Stein goes off in vexation and the old rascal gives the stick to me.
In the evening I read aloud Kleist’s Das Erdbeben in Chile, in which R.’s only regret is that the happy central episode is not executed in more detail. The descriptions of Doña Elisabeth he finds superb. When I go out onto the terrace, much moved by it, I find myself, I do not know why, thinking of Tannhäuser again, Elisabeth’s sacrifice, giving herself up to death like a flower blooming. Wolfram heroic in his renunciation, his great compassion for Tannhäuser, all of it so sublime, so powerfully ennobling. When I mention this to R., he says, “Yes, I have never concerned myself with things of a gross nature.” Glorious moonlight, we stroll on the terrace like blissful spirits.