Sunday, April 3:
From the lawyer in Berlin, saying I should do nothing, but must simply wait. R. works, I embroider. At breakfast we talk about Hamlet, and R. says he is convinced that after the appearance of the ghost Hamlet is completely mad, not that he feigns madness, but has really become so.
Will Fidi succumb to the magic of music? “If he does not, he will be an ox!” “In relation to our world Beethoven is a human being rather like Eberle, but on account of his genius he is at home in a world of which he knows every nook and cranny, but of which we have no idea.” “That is why they so hate and fear music, because they know nothing can hold up against it. It is not the representation of an idea, but the idea itself.” “Mankind’s whole feeling for beauty has found refuge in music,” I say to R., and he agrees with me.
Richard’s letter to Richter is in the newspaper, as also a report from Florence, according to which Hans played and conducted with great success in Florence and the King of Italy presented him with the order of the Corona d’Italia. Played in the garden with the children; splendid weather.