Friday, April 15:
Loulou all day with Countess Bassenheim, who took her to the graves. From the outside world a Berlin newspaper, according to which the reviews of Die Meistersinger overstepped all the bounds of decency. A weak article, but favorable, suggesting that the political party the paper represents is taking the side of the work; it is also stated that at the first performance the orchestra seats were full of “distinctive physiognomies,” ready “to take their revenge on the author of ‘Judaism in Music.’ ”
I discuss with R. my hope that Hans might feel contented in Florence, since he found Germany so uncongenial and Munich in particular insufferable.
In the afternoon a letter from a Herr Brayer in Chartres, offering his services as a conductor for Munich and Die Walküre! Not much joy from outside, our young children are our only consolation and support; but for them, I think, we should be willing to die. “People imagined all sorts of things about our union, but that it was the result of a tremendous love and that our finding each other was no mere accident—that scarcely seems to occur to anybody.”
R. today in gloomy mood, because he was disturbed during his work and is making no progress. (It is Siegfried’s departure with Gunther.) “At such times,” he says, “one feels one will never be able to do it.” In the morning, when I called out to him, “Are you amicably disposed toward me?” he answered, “Quite amicably, and every day I love you more.”
In the evening read the Revue des Deux Mondes, which Schuré sent me. R. to bed early.