Wednesday, May 3:
Day of Repentance. R. very indisposed, had another bad night! Betz rehearses “Wotan’s Farewell.” I go then to see Alwine Frommann, whose association is dear and valuable to me.
At 4 o’clock dinner with Cacilie Avenarius, then I go to the Repentance concert with Ernst Dohm. Bancroft sits beside me; bad acoustics, Eroica Symphony wretched. Everyone in black, since it is an occasion of mourning in honor of the fallen. Also the Violin Aria by Spohr and a banal Requiem for Male Voices by Cherubini; worldly stupidity and obtuseness!
I return home and R. drives to see the Prince, who had invited him. For the rest of this entry all the words have been traced over, possibly by R. W.
He returns highly satisfied, a great and simple character having been revealed to him. When R. gives expression to his respect, Bismarck says, “The only thing that can count as an accomplishment is that now and then I have obtained a signature.” And then, “All I did was to find the hole in the crown through which the smoke could rise.”
R. is utterly enchanted with the genuine charm of his character: not a trace of reticence, an easy tone, the most cordial communicativeness, all of it arousing trust and sympathy. But, says R., “we can only observe each other, each in his own sphere; to have anything to do with him, to win him over, to ask him to support my cause, would not occur to me. But this meeting remains very precious to me.”
End of the third notebook of the Diaries.