Saturday, May 7:
A bad night. R. sends for the doctor; he has a slight sore throat. Dr. Zwingenberg prescribes something for him, bows deferentially low, and says: 'Now, having seen you, I feel a few inches taller. I first read Opera and Drama in 1851.'
R. and I remain by ourselves, have a cozy breakfast together, but he soon becomes tired. A letter from Frau v. Heldburg reports Hans's emotion over his reunion with his daughter. R. recalls the look in the eyes of our dog Schnauz, whom we nevertheless got rid of! He reads to me the passage in Gobineau's book about the Roman Empire.
We spend the evening alone; R. goes to bed early.