Thursday, June 9:
A good night, but the weather is raw. R. works, however. At lunch he tells us how much he loves the peacock’s call, the wildness of it, and how much he enjoys being surrounded by living things.
Again no walk. R. writes to Herr Levi, saying he hopes the Vogl couple will be received with the proper signs of respect. Letters like this, containing friendly words, are what he best likes to write, he tells me.
In the evening our friends Wolzogen, Schemann, Rubinstein; R. expounds the idea of honor to Rub., talks to Schemann about Byron and in particular Don Juan, the final cantos of which he found very boring. To end with, our favorite, the E-flat major Quartet, is played; the Scherzo R. calls the “Nutcracker.” He praises the perfection of these works.
When we are alone, we become more lighthearted. We think of Molly’s young ones, then of mine; I say I cannot really believe that I brought these five into the world, and R. says nothing further, then quotes the passage from the Iliad between Diomedes and Glaucus. Letters from the Count, from Frau Helmholtz, who is making a collection for the Eckert children, accounts from Neumann’s cashier, the debt to friend Feustel repaid.