Monday, November 27:
R. slept well, got up only once. At breakfast he tells me his dream about a lovely garden belonging to the Wesendoncks, one - always the same - which he often saw in his sleep but which they had acquired after their friendship with him; this time the lady invited us to come and look at it. He then jokes with me for having referred to this lady as his "poetique amie" in a letter to him in Venice. I joke back that this was the least I could do, since he had always represented her to me as a saint - he says he cannot believe this.
The mail brings, via Dr. Muncker, an offer from the publishing house of Cotta! Then a proposal from Voltz-Batz! ... At lunch I relate various things about the Msinger performance in Munich at which the late Empress of Russia was present. Then there is talk of the tombola [lottery], and R. sings the word to the scherzo of the 9th: tombola! Then he mentions the one sentimental passage in this Scherzo, which cannot be played too sentimentally if it is not to pass quite unnoticed in the lively ending. He says this quality of "tender passion" is exclusively Beethoven's own - others either "picked up a guitar" or were too clumsy. Continuing to speak about it, R. says that Beethoven did not design symphonies with the idea of showing others after him how to do it: "He just opened up possibilities."
In the afternoon, in spite of the mist and dampness, he walks in Saint Mark's Square, buys lottery tickets with the children, and very much enjoys life, as he tells me, particularly the children's pleasure and excitement. When he tells about this at supper, he adds for my benefit, "I remembered, Brünnhilde, you!" Unfortunately the evening brings him much vexation; my father wishes to keep Lusch company - she is in bed; this makes R. thoroughly indignant, and he breaks out in a rage. I remain silent, and later too, when alone with him, sad from the depths of my heart at being unable to respond to his usual tendernesses, assuring him that I am not at all angry, yet able only to wish him a sorrowful good night.