Saturday, October 16:
R. dreamed that I went away, he following behind; running after the train, he cried frantically, “To Ansbach!”
I call for him with the punctuality which always puts us in good spirits, on the stroke of twelve, and we go to the Doge's Palace. Great impression of decadence.
After lunch our conversation touched on women who smoke, and R., after energetically voicing his repugnance for it, says that it comes, however, from men who smoke in the presence of women, and altogether from their incorrect attitude toward women.
Today he has on his mind the allegretto theme of the C-sharp Minor Quartet (2nd tempo): “What a serene lament!” he exclaims, and, “A man who invents something like that I could worship as a god.”
Excellent letter from Herr von Bürkel, saying that our matter is now settled, Parsifal assured for 1882, orchestra and chorus from Munich at our disposal.
We are still tired from yesterday, so unused are we to social occasions.