Sunday, June 20:
R. slept well and went for an early-morning walk. I say goodbye to Malwida in great sorrow. R. says that he always feels in a state of suppressed rage with her for not staying with us permanently.
After lunch we all go to friend Rubinstein’s, Salita S. Antonio, to see the procession in honor of the saint. Again a unique and splendid picture of life here: the saint surrounded by fruit and flowers, boys singing the ancient Neapolitan call, which is taken up by the chorus, a ship is brought in, and goods of all kinds. We gaze at the merry people and ask ourselves what one could take from them or give them. Luther! ...
In the evening, Sgambati with wife and child; yesterday R. had already reminded him of the subject in the history of Siena and encouraged him to do something for the stage. This evening he plays to us his new concerto, in a fine and masterly way. Then Rubinstein his Rhinemaidens’ “Picture” and the conclusion of Parsifal. Talking of his working methods, R. said to Sgambati, “Quand je me pose en compositeur, alors” [“When I play the composer, then”] an expression which caused great laughter.