Saturday, March 18:
R. had a somewhat restless night. I have many preparations to make for the afternoon. Our guests appear at 2 o’clock, and the concert begins. Unfortunately the people do not play the Idyll well, even when it is repeated, and even the Kaisermarsch gives R. no pleasure.
When it is all over, we laugh at our rashness in letting ourselves in for such a venture. We remember Tribschen and decide it was desecration to perform the work in this way; we also regret the necessity for publishing it. R. is very tired; between the Huldigungsmarsch and the Idyll he had a chest spasm.