Saturday, July 2:
Rain, a planned outing to Mount Pilatus thereby thwarted. R. works, and completes the sketch of the first act. Simultaneously with my great joy over this outcome I have to read in the A.A.Z. a contemptible review of his Die Walküre; I tear the wretched thing up. Pohl has written, too, in Die Signale: very weak and insipid. Another letter from the publisher Lucca which vexes R. very much; in the evening again quartets.
R. talks about his essay Beethoven and the German Nation, then about his three heroic comedies, Luther’s Wedding, Bernhard von Weimar, and Frederick the Great. Letter from Claire.