Saturday, February 19:
"I am the Napoleon of the breakfast table." With these words R. turns to me after finishing his tea and eggs. He tells me about Fidi in the shower. And then, after rising, he recalls the Hebrides Overture and Mendelssohn, that uncanny man, silently lying in wait, then suddenly breaking into violent speech. After lunch he tells us how handsome he was, and how at the age of 30 he became so Jewish. Taking off from an article about Vienna and its Israelites, he enlarges upon the subject of how terrible it is to have this foreign Jewish element in our midst, and how we have lost everything. We go for a walk, R. and I; the starlings are now here, as well as other little birds, tweet-tweet, and R. speaks of the nightingales promised him 6 years ago, which gives me quite a shock, for I am at present engaged in negotiations for birds of this kind. Marke's barking at a cat keeps us waiting at the gate for a while; when he sees R. lingering there, he does not do the same, but jumps over the ditch, sniffs at the trees, and in the end follows us in a nonchalant way, which amuses us very much. In the evening a glance at the staircase of the Paris Opera and revulsion at such splendor! A picture of some gypsy women, on the other hand, reveals true pedigree.
[Added in margin: "And, in contrast to the gypsies, a transport of slaves in Africa. 'This is us!' R. exclaims, then says it would do as a performance in the Paris Opera!"]
The reading of Cervantes's El casamiento enganoso, since it is difficult to do, is taken over by R. Splendid conversation between the two dogs! R. showed me his wind instruments, the trouble they have caused him, and he says his work has been "not at all Rossini-like." Boni caused us concern through her lack of understanding, as she was unable to withdraw gracefully when we found the story embarrassing on her account. R. lost his temper, but he immediately followed her upstairs, finding it unbearable to be in conflict with the children. And I feel compelled to tell him that all the emotions I had previously laid before the Godhead I now offer up to him, and it is in him that I find, not my happiness, but my salvation. Much then about Cervantes and Shakespeare, and Goethe added to their company, as the author of Faust, as a perceiver and portrayer of characters. The Spaniard's gracefulness of form R. ascribes to Arab influence, as in Italy too, where in the Sicily of the Hohenstaufens, which the Saracens had previously dominated, Italian poetry began.