Monday, October 9:
R. had a good night’s rest, and the sun is shining, but his morning is unrestful; he decides to write to Herr Schon and does so, but is interrupted first by the barber, then by our friends the Schleinitzes; he is beset by a spasm, requires a long time after lunch to recover, during which time he is somewhat vexed by the absence of Lusch, who is with our friends.
At 4 o’clock R. and I go out, and, gliding along in the gondola with contented feelings of being together, R. says, “One ought to be able to shut one’s mind to everything, to hear nothing more; to put up with living one has to be dead!” On the Riva we meet the Gravinas, and R. takes us to see his lion, which he calls “the most antique antiquity” he knows; the lion of Saint Mark’s also pleases him, he says it is so human and was certainly made by somebody who never saw a lion. Then we meet the other children, whom he takes to Lavena’s. We ride home, and it makes him sad to see the sun setting in a threatening way; in the evening he complains that he has seen virtually nothing but gray skies since Sicily! We spend some time in the niche leading to the vestibule, talking about the children, R. about Lusch’s fate in particular, with fatherly concern. Later Voltz and Bate come into his mind; yesterday it was the thought of Mme. Lucca which plagued him! In the evening he talks to Biagino, whom he holds in great affection, about his experiences with Rietz in Dresden.