Monday, February 21:
In the morning our conversation comes back to Moltke’s assertions; previously one had thought that a Christian was in conflict only with himself, “No, with the French,” R. interrupts me merrily.
We talk of Amfortas’s wound, which for me has something unutterably moving about it because of its symbolic character, and we enlarge upon it at length. When I come downstairs for lunch, I find R. very cheerful; the rubber fingers recommended by Dr. Hess have arrived, and they do him good, take away the irritation, and that is enough to restore him to the most splendid of spirits.
We go for a walk in fine weather, enjoy each other, which makes R. say, “Our relationship is coming along.” In the evening we read with real pleasure the episode of the witch in the conversation between the two dogs. Impossible to define wherein the power of this story lies, impossible to think of anything else. One is reminded of Kundry, of Diotima; the prophecy is unfathomable in its depth. “Good God, what things these are, what a human being he is!” R. keeps exclaiming.
Unfortunately this reading was preceded by another, assertions by Herr v. Hülsen which come back to R. at the conclusion of the evening, and he wants me to reply to them.