Monday, November 8:
R. dreams of a white point which turns into a white horse; this white horse brings the Emperor of Austria into his dream fantasy. The Emperor affably offers R. his hand, which, of enormous size, turns out to be Gedon's.
A kind God lends me words which satisfy R.; he tells me that I can see from his madness that I mean everything to him, excluding all others. I: "But you are my salvation." Our lunch is then a very cheerful one, and when there is mention of Lenbach's remark that in life we are like the donkey, always following the bundle of hay retreating in front of its nose, then of his loyal and not exactly requited love for Marie D[onhoff], R. says, "Now I know how I should address the Countess: 'Honored bundle of hay,' whether she understands it or not." Whereupon someone adds, "At any rate she would understand that the donkey is L." We part amid great laughter.
The evening was spent at home with friends (Heckel, Pohl, Levi), joined later by Prof. Bernays with fiancée, which gave rise to a part-joking, part-irritable mood. R. gets rid of them all, suggesting to our friends that they come back, and this ruse succeeds. But when R. advises Heckel and Pohl of the altered situation of the Society of Patrons, refers to the deficit, and says that no one has yet thought of returning to the children the sum of money that belongs to them, Heckel says, "That is the difficulty." Then R. explodes: "The difficulty! While I abandon my whole idea, charge admission for the performances! What are you there for, you Societies of Patrons?" He gradually calms down, excuses Heckel in particular, who has done all he can and performed real miracles.